#‘I send a lot of- emails’ Jeremy I am sitting on the floor looking up at you

[loveandthings11]

Lol Jeremy making fun of himself and checking on the cast's reactions, I can’t even handle this 🥰😚🤭

[creativeashproductions]

When the Pain Ends // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Breaking up with your boyfriend ends with your broken hand, a broken heart and a trip to Canada. Getting out of Oklahoma for comfort of your younger brother Owen brings you into contact with a sweet Canadian.

Warnings: Swearing, hospital, cheating boyfriend, angst and bit of fluff

Words: 3.1k

Requested: No.

A/N: Tidbit of info is that I am a university student. I had last week off and I’m six minutes into my History Zoom Lecture. Here’s a little fic.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The scowl glued on your face as you waited in the ER for the results from the x-ray you had gotten back from minutes ago. A bag of ice on the swollen knuckles of your right hand still splattered in drops of blood. The same blood as the small drops on your shirt as well. If that didn’t put a scowl on your face, it was the next issue.

The reason for your visit to the ER was in bed next over complaining as a nurse checked his face. His eyes meeting yours in a blend of guilt, regret and fear almost. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes.

Let’s backtrack a little for a short history.

The summer after graduation, you had met a guy on the beach playing volleyball in need of another player. You joined, and then you fell for the guy just as he did for you. For the last three years, you were now twenty-one years old. Parker had been a really good guy. Until yesterday.

“Babe!” Parker sounded congested with the bandages held up his nose. He had been fighting the nurse to come to your side.

“Don’t call me that!” You hissed glaring at the tall boy with the auburn hair colour that had once been your favourite colour.

“C’mon it was a mistake-Ow!” Parker whined at the nurse applied more pressure as she cast a sympathetic glance at you. A small smile of thanks passed to the nurse who had maybe pressed a little no hard on Parker’s nose.

Your eyes rolled at the drama that was Parker when it came to injuries that had been his entire fault, to be frank. Your fist meeting his face? His fault for cheating. What did he expect? A congratulations? Screw that.

“Say anything else I swear I’ll hit the other ball.” You glared at the boy sending him to a fit, shaking fear of stupidity.

The beach was filled up with teens and adults with children on the nice weekend day out of the loud city. Originally you hadn’t been able to join Parker with your mutual friends, but something else had spurred you there. Instead of having the weekly movie night via FaceTime with your younger brother, you had other plans. A particular video sent by Parker’s best friend and his cousin too had brought you here. Livvy had grown close in the three-year relationship you had with her cousin.

Your fury filled gaze flickered around the beach and the grass in the large opening area of the waterfront. Finally, your eyes found Parker sitting with Livvy on the blanket on the grass with Steve. Livvy was the first to see with marching through the people spreading like a curtain from the angry girl.

“Hey, Parker!” You shouted at your boyfriend in a conversation with your other two friends. Parker’s smile grew just before it falters at your expression.

“Hey, Babe,” Parker spoke, climbing to his full five-foot-ten stature. Livvy’s smile pulled up in an amused smirk while Steve looked more confused.

“How was your weekend at your sick Granny’s house?” You came to a stop a foot away from him. Arms crossed just under your chest his thick eyebrows furrowed together.

“Uh…it was okay. She’s feeling better.” Parker nodded to himself tilting his head to the side, “It was-“

“I hope she better. Her treatment must have been incredible.” You replied, unfurling your arms to grab the phone from your back pocket.

Parker grew more confused, “What?”

“The doctor sure knew what he was doing. The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The whistle you made after your statement sounded, but you grew more satisfied with the circle of people behind you.

“Oh.” Steve choked, raising one fist to press against his mouth. By now Livvy had started recording on her phone.

Livvy and Parker may be cousins, but she loathed cheaters when it was the cause of her parents’ divorce. Parker’s lips parted as he paled. The click of the glass screen brought up a video of Parker and a brunette in a hot tub.

“Ba-“

“Fucking look at your actions.” You hissed stepping even closer, “Was it worth it? Jeopardizing a relationship with someone you share years of memories with? Years of love and trust? All for thirty seconds of fun? We both know you tend to…get too excited.”

“Oh shit,” Steve spoke, shifting his gaze between you and Parker like he was a bobblehead of Einstein. The very bobblehead that you had laughed giving Steve with his obsession over the legendary scientist.

“It just happened. I still love you. I just needed a- “Parker stumbled back bringing his hands to his face, “OW! You broke my nose!”

“Ouch.” You hissed shaking your aching hand coated in some blood that splattered your shirt from shaking the hand.

“What the hell! You bit…holy fuck!” Parker screamed as your foot came up between his spread legs, nailing his left nut. He collapsed onto the grass, struggling to hold his bleeding broke nose and his nuts.

“That’s what you get asshole.” You shouted, turning to Livvy, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

“Parker drove, I’ll drive you both there. Steve can keep you two from fighting.” Livvy spoke, ending the video to shove everything in the oversized beach bag.

Now it was hours later as per usual in most hospitals elongating the time you were forced to spend with your now ex-boyfriend. Livvy and Steve had gone home a while back. Parker continued trying to fix the unrepairable damage he had done.

“Y-“

“That’s it!” You exclaimed jumping down from the bed to storm over to Parker. You made a few steps before arms encircled your waist.

“Okay, Slugger.” The gritty voice of your father spoke tugging you as far away from your ex-boyfriend as possible, “As much I want to kill him, I think you broke his pretty-boy face enough.”

The anger drained from your body as you slumped against your dad anguish set in with a tsunami of hurt. Time melted as you broke in your father’s arm; missing the doctor giving information. Your hand was fitted with a cast, and next thing you were aware of it was in the car.

“You bruised hits nuts. Broke his nose.” Dad nonchalantly spoke, turning the steering wheel as he exited the hospital parking lot. He didn’t bother making small talk as he let you be quiet on the drive home.

You didn’t know what hurt more, the heartache or your broken hand stabilized in the brace. The clearing of a throat had your attention is drawn to the house you had grown up no doubt holding your upset mother.

“She’s not that mad.” Dad quietly spoke, handing your phone that had died during the time in the ER. You shot him a look at the inaccuracy of his statement because you both know she was angry.

“Her daughter just spent hours in a hospital with a dead phone. We both know she probably thought I was dead in a ditch.” You deadpanned as you both walked up to the door of the home in Norman, Oklahoma.

The door opened before you could reach for it, and a flurry of blonde hair attacked you in a hug. Your mother hugged then leaned away to scan your features. Catching the dried tear stains paired with the red-rimmed eyes.

“Sweetheart.” Dinah spoke, raising her hands to wipe the tears from your face only causing more to fall, “What’s wrong?”

“Parker cheated on me.” You mumbled melting into her arms in another round of tears, breaking your parents’ hearts.

Meanwhile in Vancouver, Canada

Owen loved his job and the people he had met, but he missed the weekly movie nights with his older sister. The Joyner siblings had gotten down pat a system of sync to have the same movie playing at the same time on FaceTime. Imagine his surprise when he got a text apologizing.

Virtual movie night postponed. It put him in a slump that greatly concerned his roommate at the decrease of excitement. Even the next day, he was sad like a kicked puppy.

“Bro? You good?” Charlie asked from his place in the kitchen, scanning his emails on his computer. Owen barely made his eyes, “Wasn’t movie night with your sister yesterday?”

Owen nodded, “Yeah she-“

As Owen had gone to explain his phone had dinged with a concerning message from his mother.

Mom: Have you heard from Y/N? She hasn’t come home.

Owen swiped out of the conversation to the most used one with you shared with him to send a mass of messages. All not even coming up as read by you. It was his stipulation that you had it one for his safe of mind.

“C’mon you little shit,” Owen grumbled, pressing your contact to call. It didn’t even ring, “Dead cell.”

Charlie’s full attention shifted to the younger guy sitting on their couch in the apartment they used during filming. As Owen started pacing, Charlie was over quick as a bunny to offer comfort to him. The boys had grown so close, with Jeremy too, that they knew how to help the other.

“Owen, you need to tell me what’s going on.” Charlie soothed the blonde with his eyes pleading with the teenager.

“My parents haven’t talked to my sister. She didn’t go home.” Owen admitted scratching at his chest when his chest tightened. The other immediately finding his pulse on his neck to ensure he still had a pulse.

“Oh shit.” Charlie retorted, tapping his foot on the hardwood floor trying to find the right words to help his friend.

For the next hour, the boys kept in contact with Owen’s family and checking your social media in shifts as they filmed. It was a slow day when Owen’s phone finally rang with his mother’s contact once more.

“Mom, did you find her?” Owen asked, picking at the skin on his lips pacing as he had all day. The level of anxiety had been perfect for the scene he had filmed as Alex.

“Yeah. Look, Owen, she needs to get out of Oklahoma. Do you have room for her?” Dinah asked her son periodically glancing in the living room at the lifeless young woman.

“Yeah. We have an extra room.” Owen supplied squeezing the phone in his grip, “How is she? What happened?”

“I’m letting her settle before I ask any questions, but her flight is in a bit. It was either you take her in, or we pay for a hotel room. Oh! I got this lego-“

“I have to get back to filming. I’ll call you tonight.” Owen told his mother as his thumb hit the record circle on his phone. Kenny waving him over to film a scene with Booboo that would be the last before heading home.

The over the counter pain pill went down with a swig of water in the airport waiting for Owen and his roommate. Owen had messaged you that he would pick you up on the way from the set in perfect timing.

“Y/N!” Owen cheered catching sight of your form hunched forward on the bench you had miraculously found empty. Your blank eyes seeing the blue of your younger brother.

Owen’s eyes widened in shock, “What the hell happened to your hand?”

Noncommittal, the girl walked by her brother with her luggage in the mission to get to the car. All you wanted was to burst into years under your blankets until the world turned again, when birds sang, and the word wasn’t painted in dull colours.

Just as it had during the ride from the hospital to the house, it was dead silent in the car with the barest sound of music. Owen and Charlie had been having a conversation with expressions with the tension in the backseat stifling.

“This is our place.” Charlie spoke, opening the apartment door with a flourish for the girl and her luggage. Your eyes scanned the modest apartment with minimal mess compared to the tornado devastation of Owen’s Oklahoma room.

“Okay.” You replied, watching as Owen rolled the luggage to the room you would use for the few weeks you would be here.

Once showered, dressed and settled, you retreated to the couch to watch a film with the two boys. Your mind fluttered between Beca’s blow out with her father and Jesse to the city of Norman. As if thinking of Parker manifested something your phone buzzed with notifications.

@/livvyjo: Go, girl! [video]

@/malia134: Parker goes down like the bitch he is!!!

@/notsteverogers: I got a front-row seat to the fight.

Those three comments on Livvy’s video had more support than hate plus the video itself was hilarious. It caught the entire confrontation from greeting the cheater to being pulled away to spend the ten minutes in the same car. The car you had hooked up in the backseat of in the years you dated him.

 “-The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The pure anger on your expression amused you.

“What are you watching?” Owen inquired from the couch he watched the movie from. It made up for the lack of a film last night.

“A girl punching her bag of shit ex-boyfriend. She almost ripped his face off in the hospital.” You softly replied with your thumb double-tapping Livvy’s post.

Charlie’s attention shifted from the pool mashup with the Barden Bellas to the pride evident in your tone. It was the first time he had heard you laugh during the few hours he had been in your presence.

“What movie?”

“Oh, you know Parker’s Dicked Down Adventures. Filmed free with an iPhone.” You spoke sliding down to sit flush to Charlie to show the video you refreshed.

Owen’s mouth opened, “He cheated on you? How stupid is he??”

“You have a mean right hook.” Charlie supplied replaying the video for the third time with a weird feeling in his gut. The confidence stirred a body warming heat in the Canadian actor unlike anything else he had felt before.

“Dad taught me.” You replied, slouching down in the plush couch with a tiny smiling, “The nurse heard what happened. She put excessive pressure for his actions. I overheard his diagnosis; nasty bruised testicle and a broken nose.”

Both boys winced at the description. Owen ditching Charlie’s side to sit beside you, leaving you in the middle of the boys.

“I almost attacked him before Dad dragged me out of the room.” You recounted snuggling into your younger brother’s side.

“Where are my keys?” Owen questioned his roommate, “We need them to drive to the airport. I need to kill the ass that hurt my sister.”

Your deft fingers grasped Owen’s wrist when he went to get up because, in all honesty, he probably would book a flight. He wouldn’t go through with the plan to physically hurt Parker, but Owen had a wicked tongue for insults.

You spent one month in Vancouver with your brother and his castmates from helping Maddie with her homework. Movie nights with Owen changed to include Charlie too. Shopping trips with Sav and Tori. Baking with Jadah. You became family with them.

All good things come to an end. You had settled back in Norman with brighter plans that didn’t involve relying on men. Movie nights still happened with the boys, but things got hectic. Virtual movie nights shifted to texting Charlie and calls.

“Hey dork.” Charlie spoke walking down the street in Vancouver to the restaurant he was meeting the cast at. His lips pulled back in a massive grin, hearing your voice.

“Hey Char!” You enthusiastically spoke, walking out of the building with more pep in your step at the voice of the man, “What’s up?”

“On my way for food with everyone. How are you feeling?” Charlie asked, rubbing his fingertips on the dark denim pants. The sound of your voice brightening up his day more than he thought possible.

“Ooh. I should let you go, huh?” You questioned shifting to hold the phone between your shoulder and chin. Fingers unlocked the new car you had bought with the money you had saved.

A nice change of money from selling the jewellery, clothes and other miscellaneous gifts Parker had given you. The necklace he gave you that once belonged to his grandmother had been given back to him. Other than that you had no interaction with the ass.

“I’d rather talk to you.” Charlie admitted biting his lip in concentration, “I have a question.”

“Okay. What’s your question?” You questioned as your phone connected to your car—Charlie’s voice coming through the car speakers.

“Filming is almost over. Do you have plans for New Years? I’d like you to see you again.”

His words set a flutter of butterflies moving in your stomach at his nervous confidence striking the new information. The change in your friendship had been felt on his side as well and while you usually would think one-month post cheating wasn’t long enough. Something about Charlie felt comfortable as if everything had been preparing to fall for him.

“I could fly-“

“I’d like to see where you grew up. Your favourite places and where you went to school. I want to know the little things that made you who you are.” Charlie spoke coming to a stop outside the restaurant, waiting for your answer.

Owen’s eyes pulled from his debate with Sacha and Jeremy to the nervous Canadian biting his lip outside the window. By the expression on his face, Owen couldn’t guess who he was talking about. It was the smile that had been appearing on Charlie’s face for the last two weeks you had been staying with them.

Charlie had fallen for Owen’s big sister, and he couldn’t think of anyone better. The bond between you and Charlie had been natural and magical to watch. It was kinda gross seeing his best friend and sister having heart eyes with each other. Yet, Owen had never liked Parker, but he loved the idea of having Charlie as a brother.

“Y-yeah. Of course, you can Char.” The flattering blush heated up your skin at the turn in the convo—a grin splitting on the two individuals with more than three thousand kilometres between them.

“Cool. I should join the cast. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, Charlie.” You whispered to the boy looking out the window noticing something she had been oblivious to.

The world had regained the colour, the birds sang again, and the world turned once more. All because a boy helped her heal.

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[infernwetrust]

In His Office [Michael Langdon x Fem Reader]

Summary: A recent change in your shift allows for you to have lunch with Michael at his brand new dealership.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. Swearing. I think that’s about it.

WC: 2.5k

A/N: This idea came to me recently today lol. We all know Michael Langdon isn’t a stranger to a little office sex. I imagined this one with F&R Michael. Thank you for reading! -Juno

Michael walked around his dealership, hands clasped behind his back as he silently studied his employees at work. Not wanting Michael to always stress over his job as the anti-Christ, you convinced him to pursue something else that he was interested in. Why not start a business, he had thought. He decided that he would own a decent sized car lot, divided into 3 sections; luxury, middle-class, and pre-owned vehicles. The business took off well as he constantly won awards throughout the year whether it be for most sales or outstanding customer service.

He could feel the eyes burning into him as he walked passed, from employees and customers alike. He knew he was attractive. He knew that some of his workers wanted to screw him, but he paid their nasty thoughts no mind. He dressed in all black as usual. A black button up shirt that hugged his figure perfectly, tight black jeans, sporting the Michael Kors belt you had gotten him for his birthday, and his favorite pair of black dress shoes to go with it. He never went anywhere without wearing the platinum chain, which proudly displayed his last name, around his neck. That was also a gift from you.

His hands shifted behind his back and his thumb brushed against his wedding band, causing him smile a little bit as he finished walking the floor, returning to his office and taking a seat at his desk. He looked down at the wedding band, reminding himself of the passionate encounter that the two of you had shared a few nights ago.

"Michael..." you whispered against his lips as he lay comfortably between your legs.

"Hmm, my love?" he questioned, his blue eyes meeting yours, his lips not moving an inch away from yours.

"I want you to wear your ring while you make love to me. I want to see it. I want to be reminded of your commitment to me." He smiled against your lips because funny enough, it was something he always thought of too. Normally he would take it off to avoid it flying off his finger due to any sudden hand movements while the two of you got lost in each other.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"I have your weekly sales report, Mr. Langdon." his lovely Ms. Mead said, walking into his office and gently placing the folder on his desk. He smiled warmly at her, taking a bite of his now cold bagel before moving the folder closer to him. It was only right that he made her head of the financials. She was so good with numbers and always had Michael's files correctly placed together.

"Now you know you don't have to call me that." he said to her. "Michael, Mike, even son, works just fine for me."

"I know." she said. "But we're in your place of business, my dear. I will always address you with respect."

"You're too good to me, you know that?" All she could do was smile. "Took care of me when no one else would, never left my side, always provided for me. I won't ever be able to thank you enough." She was going to say something else when Michael's front desk receptionist walked into his office, his shirt drenched in coffee.

"Jeremy what the fuck happened to you?"Michael questioned, furrowing his eyebrows as one of his first impression's of his establishment was now completely a mess. "You can't fucking greet people like that. What type of business do you think I'm running here?"

"There's a woman, in the lobby." he began, out of breath. "She keeps demanding that I direct you to her office and that she's your wife. I think she's crazy, but I tried letting her know that you're a very busy man and that she'd have to call in advance to meet with you, but she wouldn't take no for an answer." A smile crept its way across Michael's face as he snapped his fingers, restoring Jeremy's outfit back to its original state. Yup. That was you.

"Yeah, that sounds like my wife." Michael said, grinning alongside Ms. Mead. "Perhaps you should of listened to her the first time."

"But sir, I was just trying to-,"

"Ah ah. I've heard enough. Walk her back here and make sure you get nothing else thrown on you for the rest of the day or your fired. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." Jeremy said lowly, turning to exit Michael's office and get you.

"These fucking new hires, huh?" Michael questioned, looking at Ms. Mead.

"You let Jeff and Mutt do the hiring when you really should pass that job along to Gallant. He would make sure the right people were working here."

"That he would. That he would..." Michael agreed, rubbing underneath his chin. And then you walked into the room. With a recent shift change, you now got off at 2PM, which means you were able to meet Michael for his lunches that he took at 2:30. He stared at you, smiling devilishly, running his fingers across his bottom lip.

"You're lucky I don't fire you my fucking self." you said to Jeremy as he escorted you in.

"My apologies, Mrs. Langdon." he said, with his head low.

"Yeah, whatever. You can get out now." He wasted no time, quickly leaving the room, accidentally bumping into the side of the door, causing the 3 of you to giggle. "Ugh, Michael, don't tell me you're still chewing on that bagel I sent you to work with." You walked over to his desk, engulfing Ms. Mead into a tight hug, which she gladly returned before planting a kiss on your cheek.

"I'll leave you two, to it." she said, giving Michael a nod before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Why so bossy today?" Michael questioned, sitting up in his chair and resting his hands on his desk, admiring your unique figure.

"Between work today and your stupid front desk agent, I'm just ready to eat lunch with you and for you to come home."

"It was that bad today?"

"If I could throw my computer out of the window with no consequences, I would." Michael chuckled, grabbing his bag of Panera Bread. You knew his favorite. Turkey Bacon Bravo, with avocado, extra, extra, avocado. Cheddar Broccoli soup and a Coke.

"You and me both, my Queen." Michael grabbed a remote, the one that control the shades in his office. He lowered them, half way, just so that no one walking by would be able to peak in at the two of you. "Staying with me until I get off at 5 or do you just want to take my car and go home and then come back for me?”

"You know I am. I've missed you terribly today."

"Is that why my front desk boy ended up covered in coffee?" The two of you looked at each other with a grin. "A temper just like mine. Mrs. Langdon, I love it, just as much as I love you."

"I love you too." you responded. "My temper is how I keep things in order."

"Mmmm." Michael hummed. "Tell me about it."

After lunch, Michael returned to his duties, going over his sales reports, moving things where they needed to go, and sending out emails and reminders. You loved watching him work. You loved how fast his fingers moved a crossed the keys and how his gaze never broke away from the task at hand. You were mainly focused on his outfit choice for today. You had no idea he would be leaving the house in an outfit that pointed out ALL of his features. Though he was soft, you could still see the full outline of his length through his jeans when he sat down. His chest, outlined against his shirt perfectly, you could just make out his nipples. The size of Michael's thighs drove you insane, that you couldn't help but come over in the chair you were sitting in and start rubbing them.

His focus still didn't break and while you knew he preferred to stay focused on his work, today it didn't seem like he cared. He allowed you to rub his thigh, his breathing slightly increasing as he typed up a inventory report. When he paused for a moment, wanting to crack his knuckles, you took the opportunity to spin his chair around so that it was facing you. The both of you immediately made eye contact, but no words were spoken. You could read his face and he could read yours. You were both on on the same page. He grabbed another remote, this time the stereo remote, turning it on, leaving the music at a reasonable volume.

Your hands were already fumbling with his belt as you got it unclasped. You quickly unbuttoned his jeans, Michael kicking off his shoes and moving them to the side. You pulled them down, bringing his boxers down with his, revealing his semi-hard cock. And all you did was touch him. You knew how much Michael craved you, both intimately and non-intimately. He was weak underneath your touch most of the time. You got on your knees in front of him, hands on his thighs as you slowly took him into your mouth. He let out a Godly sigh, leaning his head back as you got to work on him.

"Ssssh." you said, popping him out of your mouth. "It seems to be a busy day for you. You don't want your customers to know what's going on behind your office doors do you?"

"And what if I do?" Michael questioned, his cock twitching from missing your mouth.

"Well let's pretend you don't. No noises. Can you do that for me, daddy?" Michael's jaw clenched at the name and he bit his lip slightly. Silent Michael was sight to see. While extremely audible Michael was one of your favorites, nothing beat looking up at him and watching as he expressed his pleasure with his face and body.

You took him back into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head up and down on his length. Michael's jaw dropped. He desperately wanted to moan. He wanted you to know how good you were making him feel, but he kept it quiet. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, never taking his eyes off you. He didn't bother to take it off, his chest and torso for the most part exposed, his chain landing perfectly in the middle of chest. You licked up and down the sides of his shaft, using your hand to stroke circles around his spit glazed tip. The sound of the wetness drove the both of you crazy. Your own arousal soaked through your panties.

Putting him back in your mouth, you sucked on just his tip, using both of your hands to stroke the rest of his length. Looking up at him, he looked so beautiful. He was breathing heavily as he peered back down at you, running his hand through his hair, his hips starting to thrust upwards in your hand to try and match your pace. His foot found its way between your legs and using his big toe, he slowly rubbed it across your clit, causing you to moan lowly around him, the vibrations ripping through him.

You were sucking faster now, moving your hands faster. He gripped both sides of his office chair, before deciding to let them go, wanting his hands wrapped up in your hair instead. You moved your hands, knowing what he was wanting to do. Welcoming it. And you loved watching him do it too. His thrusts in your mouth started off slow and gently, before they became rough and fast. You looked up at Michael again, who was now breathing so rapidly you thought that maybe he could be hyperventilating. You could see him mouthing the word fuck over and over and over.

He stood up abruptly, pulling you up with him before smashing his lips onto yours, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth, the two of you fighting for dominance. He was quick to rid you of your clothes before pulling his shirt all the way off. With a quick wave of his hand, everything that was now on his desk, was on his office sofa, neatly stacked so that he could return to it lately. He picked you up, setting you down on his desk.

"Now can you do the same for me?" he asked, quickly sliding into you, catching you off guard. Sensing your impending loud moan he quickly put a hand over your mouth. "No noises yes? Or I'll stop and we'll have to finish this at home." You nodded against his hand and he slowly moved in and out of you at a rhythmic pace. You pulled him by the back of his neck, closer to you, putting your lips directly against his ear. His hands roamed all over you, squeezing your breasts, playing with your nipples as he gradually increased the pace at which he fucked you. Your hands travelled up and down his back when suddenly he grabbed them, pinning them above your head.

You swore the desk was inching farther and farther away from the area it resided in as he now pounded into you relentlessly and you could help but let out a cry of pleasure, or at least you tried to, but Michael knew you all to well. He used his powers to keep you quiet, your mouth wanting to make noise, but nothing but breaths and pants coming out.

"Poor, girl." Michael said between breaths. "Dishing out challenges you can't even do yourself. Now look, I have to use my powers to keep your mouth shut. Pathetic. You enjoy being my little office toy?" You nodded vigorously. Not only had your shift change allowed you to have lunch with Michael, but it was just the fact that you were now able to spend the rest of his work filled day with him, sex or no sex.

"That's what I thought." he continued, his pounding becoming sloppier and sloppier as he neared his climax, you not following too far behind. When he let your hands go, they immediately found their way to his hair, giving it a sharp tug to which he inhaled sharply to stop himself from cursing. You grabbed him by his throat, pulling him back down towards you as you neared your orgasm, foreheads pressed against each other with nothing but pure love and lust in the both of your eyes.

You let go first, squirming violently against Michael, who sloppily kissed you following his own release shortly after, breathing and panting loudly in each other's mouths. You both rode out your orgasms until the pleasure was completely gone.

"This shift change is going to be so much fun." Michael said as he rested his face in your neck.

"So much fun, Mr. Langdon. So much fun." you said back.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger

[wordsfromthesol]

911

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: Officer Grayson pulls you over for speeding, somehow you end up without a ticket and a date instead. Warnings: ~the usual~ Word Count: 1.2k

You had just gotten a 911 call from your father. No other details. Every possibility in the world was running through your head. You raced to your car and barreled through the oncoming traffic, that was until you saw lights in your rear-view mirror. Fuck. You pull over and roll down the window, waiting for the inevitable, but were surprised when the person approaching wasn’t in uniform.

“So, I’m curious. I just watched you cut in front of an old lady and then proceed to flip her off…all while speeding.”

“Well the old lady was driving stupidly.”

“But where’s the holiday spirit?”

“It left when my dad decided to send me a 911 text and then stop responding. I’m sorry, can you just give me a ticket or whatever. I’m in a hurry.”

“Honestly, I just wanted to see what your reason was.” He ushered to his apparel, “I’m not really looking to give out tickets. But I can give you an escort, make sure your dad is okay…address?”

You rattled off your dad’s address, surprised by his generosity, but your mind was too preoccupied to acknowledge it. As you rolled into the driveway, you didn’t even stop to thank the unnamed detective.

**

The next day as your phone began to buzz, the words “Unknown Caller” flashed across the screen. Normally you wouldn’t bother answering, but something in the back of your mind was telling you otherwise.

“This is Y/N.”

“Hey, this is Detective Grayson. I was the one that stopped you yesterday.”

“Oh, right. I never got to thank you, my mind was kind of frazzled.”

“Yeah no, I understand. I just wanted to check on you, make sure everything was okay.”

“Well, honestly, now I feel bad. Maybe you should just give me a ticket.”

“Now you’re asking for a ticket? What happened?”

“It’s so stupid…my dad couldn’t get the television working.”

“And he couldn’t answer his phone?”

“I guess not. I mean who sends a text like that and then doesn’t answer their damn?”

“Heh, apparently your dad. Well I’m glad I could help.”

“Yeah, listen thanks again. I promise I’m usually not that terrible of a driver.” The two of you kept saying your goodbyes but finding another reason to continue the conversation. That was when you realized that it had been nearly an hour and seriously needed to get back to work. “Alright I actually have to get back to work.”

“I think you’ve said that three times now.”

“Yeah but then I realized it’s been an hour. How about I buy you a coffee tomorrow to say thanks?”

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask me, that sounds great. I’ll be at your office at 10:00.”

“You know – you ran my plates didn’t you?”

“Well of course, had to make sure you weren’t some sociopath…we get a lot of those in this area.”

“Alright, I’m hanging up now!”

**

Ten in the morning came too quickly, you had been so flustered at work, as new projects just kept appearing out of thin air. You would have forgotten entirely if the assistant at the front desk hadn’t buzzed you. Jeremy eyed you on your way out. A look that was both mischievous and curious, you knew he’d be asking you about it as soon as you got back.

“Hey, sorry, this morning was crazy.” You shuffled through the front lobby and approached the detective.

“I can come back later.’”

“No no, I definitely need coffee now.” You hurried past him, not wanting to give anyone an opportunity to stop you from leaving.

“Understood, let’s go then.”

Nearly an hour had gone by while you mindlessly chatted with the detective, finally learning his first name. You still couldn’t believe he actually chose to go by ‘Dick’. Maybe someday you would learn why. Your whole body shifted with discomfort as the realization hit you, you had to go back to work.

“As fun as this chat has been, I’m afraid I have to get back to work. I’ve already felt my phone buzz ten times with emails.”

“It’s alright, I know the feeling.” Just as the two of you were getting up Dick instinctively pushed in front of you. Frustrated with the abrupt and forceful motion, you began to push back until you realized the unsavory figure at the door. Cop instincts. Or so you thought. Once you got out of your own head you noticed Dick stepping towards the man.

“Hey buddy, can I get you a cup of coffee or maybe a bagel?”

The man shook in place as he twitched about, focusing his gaze at random points in the store and ignoring the person speaking to him.

“Why don’t we find someone to help you out?”

Dick was having no luck addressing the man in front of him and was worried he would soon turn violent. He knew it wasn’t the best idea to touch him, but he grew more and more desperate to get the man away from innocent people – especially you. As he expected, as soon as Dick placed his hand on the man’s shoulder he lashed out. Before you could blink, Dick already had the man on the ground, ordering you to dial the police.

“Bu...aren’t you the police?”

“Yeah but I’m not on duty…no cuffs or patrol car. Can’t exactly put him on my motorcycle.” Dick motioned towards the unconscious man on the floor. You nodded in response and dialed 911 on your phone. Your relaxing coffee break was no longer. Now with all this new adrenaline coursing through your veins, you had to go back and type reports. How the hell am I supposed to go back to work now.

**

Somehow you made it through the day, only to come home to Dick Grayson in your apartment, scaring the shit out of you as you opened the door.

“What the hell Dick?”

“Sorry! I just wanted to check on you.”

“That should be your catchphrase. I’m good, just got nothing done at work today. I was jittery and on edge the rest of the day. At least my recollection of the morning’s events entertained Jeremy. Got him off my case about you.”

“Should he be on my case?”

“Well when you announce yourself at my office, he will make sure he knows why you’re there.”

“Hm.” For some reason you didn’t feel completely awkward with him sitting casually in your living room. In fact, it felt almost right. You moved about, going into your room and changing out of the business casual clothes you donned, before heading into the kitchen looking for a snack. You sat next to him with a bag of chips in hand. Dick proceeded to dip his hand in the bag and throw some in his mouth. “So, dinner then?”

Your mouth full, but the question caught you off guard, so you answered while trying to contain the half-chewed chips. “What?”

“I mean, as healthy as these look for dinner…I figured I should take you out. Make up for the…eventful coffee date.” You looked down at the sweatpants and t-shirt that now covered your body. “You won’t have to change, I know a great diner.”

“Alright. Try to avoid life-threatening events this time?”

“No promises, but I’ll always protect you.” Dick said with a wink.

[starryshawn]

snowcaps + nightcaps: chp 1

series masterlist  -  full masterlist

summary: you take a job as a chalet girl for the mendes family for the winter. over late nights and various nighttime beverages on a balcony, you fall in love with the boss’s son despite your best efforts. the two of you yearn for each other even though impossible circumstances keep you apart.

warnings: none for this chapter!

a/n: this first chapter is mostly intro for characters and plot setup; promise there will be much more shawn in the coming chapters!

~*~

“Okay,” you say while clicking the tupperware lid closed, “what’s in the fridge should last you a week, and the freezer should last you around a month.”

“Thank you, darlin’. You know you didn’t have to do all this-- I’m a grown man who can make his own food,” your dad says from across the kitchen island, sitting on one of the bar stools.

You scoff. “Right, a grown man who can make his own honey on toast.”

“Hey now, don’t knock honey on toast! That’s a timeless classic.”

“Timeless, but you can’t live on it forever.” Your smile recedes slightly as you open the refrigerator door, back turned to your dad. You were joking, but you were painfully aware that honey on toast was the only meal he even had the energy to make anymore. 

“Don’t worry, hon,” a middle-aged woman assures, walking into the kitchen area, “I’m here to help out.” She jingles a key.

You walk over to give her a hug. “Thank you Justine.” Your voice is smaller than you expected.

“What are neighbors for, hm?” She rubs your back. “Besides,” she pulls away, “I’m stuck in that big ol’ house alone all day. This old geezer will give me some company.”

Your dad laughs, hearty and full. Tears blur your vision without permission. You’re not sure you can go months without hearing that sound in person.

You sniffle. “You know, maybe I don’t need to go. I can just pick up some extra shifts at the diner, or--”

“Darlin’, no. Come here,” your dad says, arms outstretched. You place your hands in his and he squeezes as hard as he can, his left hand trembling. “You need to go out and explore the world while you still can. You’re young. An opportunity like this doesn’t come so often.”

You look up at the ceiling to let the tears flow back to where they came from. “Okay,” you sigh shakily, “it is a lot of money.”

“Hey,” his voice is stern. “Look at me.” You obey, hoping your eyes aren’t red. “Make the most of this winter. You deserve to get to know the beautiful person you are.”

The tears you pushed in return with a vengeance, spilling out before you can catch them. All you can do is nod as your dad pulls you into an embrace. You breathe in his woodsy cologne. Somehow, you feel like you’re going to be alright.

~*~

The grip on your suitcase is tight as you look around the train station. The email from Nina, the girl you’d be working with, said that she’d be waiting at the west terminal. Excited to spend the season with you! Nina, she signed. You were relieved to read the message; at the very least, you would have a nice colleague.

Amongst the herd of brightly-colored puffer jackets, you spot your name in black lettering on a piece of cardboard. As you get closer, you realize that it’s scratchily applied black nail polish.

The young woman holding the sign doesn’t notice you, busy talking to someone on her phone. “God, babes, and did you see that guy who was staring at my arse the whole night? He had the hairiest chest I’d ever seen-- like love, sorry, this isn’t happening, you’re such a perv,” she laughs and continues, “yeah, I know! And I-- oh, I gotta call you back, babes.” 

She ends the call and lowers her sunglasses, taking a good look at you. “Seriously?” She seems amused more than anything else.

“Yup,” you respond. There’s nothing you can do to stop the awkward tight-lipped chipmunk smile that appears on your face.

She sighs, pulling her sparkly keychain from her jacket pocket. “Alright, get your things in the trunk and let’s get going, then.”

The drive is quiet despite your multiple attempts at conversation. Nina maneuvers the car through winding roads with a strangely disinterested expression while you hold the seatbelt close to your chest. 

You must have been staring, because she shoots you a frown. “What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?” She gasps. “No, have I got a spot?” Nina twists the rearview mirror and leans close in a frenzy, pulling at her face. The car lurches into the opposite lane, earning a blaring honk from an oncoming vehicle and a squeal from you.

“Oh, cool it! I was barely over the line!” Nina shouts out the window. She settles back in her seat. “Ugh these tires make the worst noise. I’ll have to get Jeremy to look at those later.”

“Right, the tires,” you say, too embarrassed to admit that you were the source of the sound.

After the near-accident, you decide not to distract Nina. Your eyes focus on a raindrop stain on the window as you allow your thoughts to swirl. What would your dad be doing now? Hopefully he’s doing okay. It’s barely been a day… but then again, what if he’s worried about you? What if he hasn’t eaten yet? What if he faints or has a heart attack and he’s all alone in the house because you’re not there and--

Your gaze shifts past the stain and onto the scenery unfolding outside the window. The muddied slush has been replaced by majestic snowcaps, the scraggly bare trees by towering evergreens. The air even looks crisper. “Oh my god, it’s so…”

“White?” Nina looks over at you, raising an eyebrow.

“The mountains, they’re so… tall,” you breathe.

“Right, as opposed to short mountains.” Nina shakes her head. “You clearly don’t ski. Why are you even here?”

“Well, I need the money and this job pays really well, so…”

“What do you mean you need the money?” Nina glances at you again. “Oh, wait, that makes sense. 

You scoff and shake your head. “Well, why are you here, then, if not for the money?”

“Are you kidding me? Wow, the agency must have really been desperate for a Jenny replacement if they picked someone from the middle of nowhere like you.”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Nina clicks her tongue. “Why wouldn’t I be here? Everyone wants this job. The Mendeses are only at the chalet for two weeks at the maximum for ‘family bonding time.’ We have the rest of the winter all to ourselves. We literally get paid to stay in a chalet right next to the best slopes in the world and use their killer hot tub for an entire season.”

“Oh… funny thing is, I almost turned this down,” you say.

Nina looks at you like you’re crazy.

“Okay, maybe not that fun--”

“I had literally twenty girls texting me about this job when they heard about Jenny’s leg. Twenty! But the agency said they had to see the candidates before sending them in.” She rolls her eyes.

The car pulls into the driveway of the chalet and you can’t help but gasp at the sight, Nina’s words forgotten. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Alright, don’t cream yourself, now. We’ve got to get you trained,” Nina says while unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“What floor are we on?” You ask.

Nina flashes you a now-familiar look of incredulity. “What do you-- oh, for god’s sake, the entire building is ours!”

You take a deep breath. Seems like Nina’s got her work cut out for her.

~*~

The twin bed creaks when you collapse face-first onto it. 

“They’re coming in tomorrow around 5, so remember what I told you about dinner; I’m the actor, and you’re back--”

“Backstage, got it,” you complete, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“After all, I’ve practically grown up with them. God, I remember this one time…”

Nina continues to talk as she folds various articles of clothing strewn about the other side of your shared room. In a chalet this big, you wonder, it’s rather interesting how the two of you are forced to cohabitate. Your eyelids grow heavier and you’re just about to welcome a dreamless slumber when something hits your head.

You sit up and remove what you now recognize as a white lace thong from your line of vision. “What the hell?”

“Are you listening to me? We’re not done yet,” Nina says, now facing you. “Three rules for being a chalet girl. One: no friends in the chalet. Two: you can party as much as you want, as long as breakfast is on the table at 8.

“Three: no sleeping with the clients, even from neighboring chalets,” she considers herself, “unless they’re fit.”

“No sleeping with the clients? Damn, what am I supposed to do with my industrial pack of condoms now?” you joke, slingshotting the thong at Nina, causing her brown hair to flitter behind her shoulders.

“Oh, hush.” Nina throws it onto a pile of clothes. “I’m getting into the hot tub one last time before the family arrives tomorrow. Don’t wait up.”

“No need to worry about that.”

The door closes and you flip backwards onto the bed. You shut your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come as easily as it did before. As if by fate, your leg starts to vibrate. You fish out your phone from your pocket and check the glowing screen. Your dad. 

“Hello?” you pick up the phone.

“Hi darlin’, how was your first day?” It’s barely been 24 hours since you left him, but his voice makes your eyes misty. 

“It was good, good… everything’s going really well,” you lie, choosing to omit the number of plates you dropped and the misplaced utensils. “I made a new friend, too.”

“That’s my girl!” You can hear his smile through the phone and it’s enough to put a small one on your face.

“What about you, how was your day?”

“Oh, it was the usual! Just got some reading done, and, oh! Justine was kind enough to drop by with some paella.”

“Lucky, you know how much I love her paella,” you whine. “Did you remember to--”

“Take my meds? Yes I did; I’m not so old that I’m losing my memory just yet.”

The mere mention of memory loss has you choked up. The doctors said that although it was a possibility, dementia wasn’t something to worry about yet. Still, you’re wishing now more than ever that you were on the couch with your dad instead of on a creaky bed in the middle of the Alps. 

“I have a busy day tomorrow,” you manage through the ball in your throat, “so I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Of course, darlin’. I love you.”

“I love you,” you say quickly before ending the call.

After rolling over to switch off the bedside lamp, you burrow under the covers. You’re too ashamed to see yourself cry yourself to sleep.

~*~

“So what do I call them? Sir and ma’am or by their names?” you whisper to Nina as the two of you stand to the side of the landing strip.

“Call them? I thought we discussed this. I’m the one who talks to them, you’re backstage.”

“Right…”

The Mendes family steps off their private plane, laughing among themselves. Immediately, you’re drawn to the head of brown curls peeking out through the group. It belongs to a tall young man in a leather jacket.

Nina notices your gaze and leans towards you. “Rule number three?”

“I thought there were exceptions for ‘fit’ guys?” you ask, only partly joking. You’re determined for this job to work out, but goddamn is he attractive.

“He’s taken, anyway,” Nina says.

You hum, grateful for a reason to stay focused on the job. Cook and clean for a rich family for three months and go home with a fat check; should be easy enough.

Tall Handsome Boy starts walking toward the two of you. You have to remind yourself to breathe. The evening sun sews golden thread through his hair and embroiders swirls across his face. You resist the urge to search him for angel wings.

“Is it just me, or is he walking in slow motion?” you say to Nina. 

She chuckles. “It’s just you. Now, don’t gawk too much, you’ll embarrass me.”

“Wow, I’ve finally gotten a laugh out of yo--”

“Hello, needledick!” Nina is engulfed in a hug.

“Long time no see, fungus!” Tall Handsome Boy steps back from Nina and turns to you. “Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Shawn.” He offers his hand.

“Y/N,” you say and shake his hand, still a little stunned by the interaction that just played out. 

“I don’t have a needle dick, by the way.”

“He did when he was eleven!”

Shawn shoots Nina a playful glare and opens his mouth to respond when someone pounces on him from behind, causing your hands to disconnect.

“Oh, baby, it’s even more beautiful than it was last year,” muses the blonde offender, linking her arm with Shawn’s. She notices you and grabs hold of your hand. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there! I’m Kaye.”

Her warm energy softens your expression. You give her your name. The sparkle in her eyes gives you hope that it won’t be too difficult to take care of these people.

“Ooh, it’s chilly! Let’s get inside, I’m about to become a popsicle!” Kaye ushers Shawn to one of the black cars waiting for them.

A teenage girl follows, dragging a suitcase behind her as if it’s merely an extension of her arm. “You’d think that after two winters here she’d know how to dress for the cold,” she says, wrapping an arm around Nina’s torso.

Nina embraces the girl lightly. “Hi love.” She gestures to you and says, “this is the new Jenny.”

“Oh, rad. I’m Aaliyah.”

Two more figures appear while you introduce yourself. A man in a black peacoat has his hand on the waist of a sunglasses-clad woman.

The man extends a hand to you. “Hey, call me Manny. Thanks for stepping in.” Meanwhile, the woman envelops Nina in a hug and kisses her head. “Just, uh, do whatever Nina does, I guess. You can’t go wrong.”

Manny reaches for the woman and continues, “This is my wife, Karen.” She regards you wordlessly, simply adjusting her sunglasses. “Who apparently has a sore throat. We’ll see you at the chalet, then, eh?” He guides his wife and daughter to the cars, leaving you alone with Nina.

Or at least, you thought he left you with Nina. When you look to ask her about wardrobe for the night, you see she’s already at least fifteen steps to the car. 

She turns around, frustration evident. “Keep up!”

“Whoops.” This is going to be an interesting winter.

~*~

and that’s it for chapter 1! expect chapter 2 sometime next week. i’m really excited for this series, so feel free to send me asks about it!

join my taglist! :)

tags:

@enchantingbrowneyedgirl @thesaragomez @ruinhoney @shawnvvmendes

[amillionsmiles]

your hair was long when we first met (Pidge/Lance)

Summary: Pidge’s hair grows with the seasons. So do Lance’s feelings. A/N: feelings are hard, kids. written while listening to “No Promises” on repeat so that kind of explains the last scene, I guess. Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

[Read and review over on Ao3] or continue under the cut.

FALL

*

Lance takes a sip of his coffee and immediately regrets it, the liquid scalding his tongue.  His fault—his mug is programmed to alert him of the temperature of its contents, but sometimes he gets too lazy to look at the status bar and decides to risk it the good old fashioned way instead.

The door of the break room opens and Amara enters, blouse perfectly pressed as always.

“Hey,” she greets.

“Hi, Amara.” Lance lifts his mug in acknowledgement.

Amara moves toward the coffee machine, starting it up with a steady whir.  Over the noise, she congratulates: “Good job on bringing in the top numbers again this month.”

Lance smiles, one shoulder pulling higher than the other as he shrugs.  “What can I say? I’m competitive.” He remembers the Garrison, waiting for sim score postings with bated breath.  The very first time he and Keith raced in their Lions, neck and neck.

“You’re going out with us tonight, right? We’re having a mixer with the tech team.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Lance winks, and it feels good, to be on top of his game again, to receive Amara’s answering smile and see her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Somebody else enters the break room.

“Oh, good, Lance, you’re here.”

Pidge.

He stands a little straighter.  Over Pidge’s shoulder, Amara wiggles her fingers in goodbye, slipping out through the door.  

“What’s up?”

Pidge walks toward him, a data pad clutched in her hands.  “I need a second opinion.  We just had one of our technical writers redo the user manual, but I still want to make sure that it’s not too, you know, science jargon-y.  And you’ve always been good at picking out that stuff…”  She sets the tablet on the counter, swiping to bring up the file; Lance twists to his side, leaning over her shoulder to get a look.  It’s muscle memory, this position—they might as well be poring over battle plans or a holographic projection of a planet.

His eyes swim at some of the paragraphs.  Oh, god, what am I getting myself into— “I could take a look at it over the weekend,” he offers.

Pidge blinks up at him.  “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, no big deal.  Just send me a copy.”    

“Already done.” Pidge brightens, typing in his work email, the data transmitted with a satisfying swish, and it’s comfortable, like this.  Friends who trust each other’s opinions, coworkers who pick each other’s brains.  Teammates.

Lance glances down at the lid of his mug, tries for nonchalant.  “Hey, are you going to the mixer thingy tonight?”

“At Jolie’s?” Jolie’s, the bar just a few blocks away from their work, with the atmospheric blue glass lights and the karaoke stage for when you’re too many drinks in and feel like serenading the whole world with your feelings.  Sales team already has bets going on who will be the first to drunkenly volunteer; currently, the majority favors Jeremy.

“Yeah.”

Pidge considers.  “Probably.  Are you?”

“You know me. Like I could turn down a party,” says Lance, nudging her.

She cracks a smile.  “I’ll see you tonight, then.  And thanks for looking over the manual, seriously.  I owe you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I need somebody’s account hacked.”

“I don’t do that anymore, Lance!” Pidge protests, punching his arm.  Before he can react, she’s by the exit.  He has half a mind to feign injury, if only to prolong their interaction for a few more seconds.

Instead, Lance raises his mug to his lips, taking a long sip.    

His arm throbs.  The coffee slides down his throat: still warm.

*

“Lance! You’re late!”

“Fashionably, I hope,” says Lance, shrugging out of his jacket as he follows Amara toward the bar.  The lights cast everyone in a dark red glow, and for a second he’s back in Red’s cockpit, weaving through space.  His coworkers spin toward him and away like dizzy stars.

Amara leaves his side, drawn by the noise coming from the pool table in the back corner.  Lance orders a glass of scotch, then looks down the bar to see Pidge perched on a stool, dragging her index finger absentmindedly around the sugar-encrusted rim of her drink.  Lemon Drop. Sweet with a dose of sour—classic Pidge.

“So, you come here often?”

She looks up, features relaxing when she recognizes him.  “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show.”

“That boring without me, huh.”

“Actually, no, it’s been pretty entertaining.  You missed Eric getting frisky on the dance floor.”

“Aw, man, seriously?” Lance mourns.  “Please tell me you got a recording.”

“Obviously.” Pidge shoots him one of her secretive little smirks.  “I can’t pass up prime blackmail material.”

“So you haven’t left behind your old ways after all.”

“I like having a lot of information at my fingertips,” Pidge justifies, and Lance thinks of the files she’d kept on their team, categorizing strengths and weaknesses.  When he’d first found out, he’d felt a little betrayed; it hurt to think that someone close to him could pick him apart like that, lay him bare on a page.  But he’d come to learn that it was Pidge’s way of caring: a constellation of data points that she drew close to herself, as comfort.  They existed in the flesh, but also as facts and figures—indisputable, something nobody could take away.

Over on the karaoke stage, Jeremy has finally taken the microphone, launching into some ballad from ages ago: I’m all out of love, I’m so lost without you—

Lance bumps Pidge’s shoulder.  “I challenge you to a duet.”

She scoffs.  “Please, I’m way too sober.”

“We can fix that.”

Pidge finishes her drink, turning toward him. When she meets his gaze, her eyes are bright with challenge, and Lance lets himself tip a little closer to her gravity.  The pieces will fall where they may.

*

Three hours later finds him standing on the curb, waving his goodbyes.  A warm pleasantness sits in his chest, muscles relaxed.

“I had fun today.”

Lance turns, startled to find Pidge taller than usual.  A glance downwards reveals that she’s wearing a pair of black pumps; it’s the first time he’s noticed them this whole night, and the thought does something funny to his stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Pidge shifts from foot to foot.  Lance resists the urge to smile, already anticipating the next nervous stream of words: “I mean, I like everyone, obviously, I wouldn’t be here otherwise, but you know me, it takes a lot of time for me to really get comfortable and open up and… it was just easier, with you around.”

Don’t read into it, Lance.

“How’d you get here?” he deflects.

“Took the rail link.”

“Yeah, you should probably call a ride to get back instead.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Pidge grumbles, reaching for the clasp of her purse, and Lance remembers the first time they got drunk together.  It’d been after a diplomatic banquet on some planet with two moons. Gathered in the Castle’s lounge, passing around a bottle that was leagues better than nunvill, Hunk had teased Pidge about being the only one of them that had yet to reach drinking age, which set off another argument about laws in space until Pidge said, “Who’s gonna arrest me, the space police?” and grabbed the flask from Lance’s hand.  Which was how Lance learned that, while he and Shiro got affectionate and Keith got contemplative (Hunk, too, but in a more incessantly questioning kind of way), drunk Pidge became grumpy and then sleepy.

The car pulls up.  Lance opens the door for Pidge, watching her slide into the backseat.  “Text me when you’re home safe, I’ll see you on Monday—”

“Lance.” Pidge’s voice is quiet, the barest trace of vulnerability underneath; and that’s bad, because the last time Pidge was vulnerable around him, Lance fucked everything up.  “I want… I want you to see my place.”

He shouldn’t. Bad idea. But Lance has another weakness to add to Pidge’s ongoing list, after all these years: pent-up regret and zero resistance to a certain pair of beseeching brown eyes.

“Okay,” he says, and gets in the car.

*

Pidge is half-asleep when they finally arrive at her apartment building.  Lance leaves the car door open behind him for her to squeeze out of, turning his attention toward trying to guess which of the windows above them is hers.

“Fuck.”

He whirls around.  “Pi—Katie,” he catches himself at the last second, “are you okay?”  

Pidge balances on her left foot, heels clutched in one hand, the other one rubbing her right ankle.  “I’m fine, I just—what are you doing?”

“Come on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“Lance, the door isn’t that far, and there’s an elevator once we get inside—”

“Are you really going to turn down a free piggyback ride?”

“All right, fine,” Pidge sighs, sliding her arms around his neck.  Lance hooks his arms under her legs, rising slowly to adjust to the weight.  Nobody bats an eye at them when they enter the lobby.  In the elevator, Pidge reaches over his shoulder to press the button for her floor, and her hair brushes against the side of his face, giving him a whiff of her shampoo.  Coconut.

Several minutes later, he stands in the middle of her living room.  Pidge is dozing off again, breath puffing warmly against his neck, and Lance keeps the moment to himself, soaking in his surroundings.  Half-assembled 3D puzzle on the coffee table, a fuzzy blanket thrown over the arm of the couch.  Over in the kitchenette, magnets from the local planetarium adorn the fridge.

Gingerly, Lance navigates through the darkness.  With his foot, he nudges the bedroom door open, the mattress squeaking gently when he sits down on its edge.  He deposits Pidge as slowly as he can, careful not to crush her when he leans back—she makes a soft noise as she untangles from him, stretching out on the bed.  And it’s like one of those tragic Greek myths; he’s Orpheus, unable to stop himself from looking over his shoulder.

Pidge is curled away from him, toward the wall.  Her hair has grown well past her shoulders, now; Lance wonders if she plans on letting it reach mid-back.

His job is done here.  He’s seen whatever it is Pidge wanted him to see.  Turning around, Lance starts to leave.

A tug on the back of his shirt stops him.        

“Wait.”

Pidge might as well have turned an ice cannon on him, for what it does to his body.  Lance swallows.  “I have to go.”

“I know,” Pidge says, and he can hear her body dragging across the sheets, curving toward him.  “Thanks for bringing me home,” she mumbles, words laced with sleep.  “I had fun today.”

“You said that earlier already.”

“That’s not… I meant…” She makes an impatient noise, expelling air through her nose.  Lance can’t help snorting in return; even when drunk, Pidge’s mind moves too fast to pin down.

“I was nervous about tonight,” Pidge finally confesses.  “I was worried things might be weird.”

“Oh.”

“But hanging out with you was… normal.  So I guess that means I must be over it.”

“Over it,” Lance echoes.

“Yeah.”  She sounds relaxed.  Happy, even—like a weight has been lifted.

Lance should be happy, too.

“Whatever it was between us, I don’t care anymore, I just—I just want us to be friends.”

There’s a spot of chipped paint on the wall across from them, right below the light switch.  Indistinguishable to most other people, especially with the room as dark as it is right now, but Lance has always had a marksman’s eye.  He should have seen this coming, probably.  And he can do this: bite the bullet, keep the truth lodged in his chest, no exit wound.

“Yeah,” he says softly, proud of the steadiness of his voice.  “Me, too.” 

*     

“Oh, hey, Allura—ha!” In the split second that Lance spared to glance over his shoulder, Pidge swept his legs out from under him, knocking him flat on his rear.

“Hey!” Lance protested.  “Misdirection! Dirty move!”

“Oldest trick in the book,” said Pidge, beaming smugly.  She pointed her staff at his chest.  “You lose.”

“All right, fine.” Lance dropped his own staff in a gesture of surrender, showing his palms.  He held a hand out.  “Help me up?”

She rolled her eyes but reached down to wrap her fingers around his, grip firm.

Too easy.

Lance tugged.

Down went Pidge, a crash of limbs.  Her elbow caught his side and Lance cursed, wheezing: “Ow, fuck, my ribs—”

“Language,” mocked Pidge.

“Who are you to talk about language, you’ve got the dirtiest mouth out of all of us—”  But that thought cut short, because said mouth was now hovering only a few inches away from his.

In hindsight, perhaps this hadn’t been the greatest idea.

“Lance?” Some of Pidge’s hair had come free of her ponytail, curling in wispy clouds around her face.  She’d decided not to cut it and it hung midway down her back, now.  Lance was prone to tugging it on occasion, just to bother her.  (“Why don’t you ever do that to Allura?” “Because Allura would kill me.” “What, and you think I wouldn’t?” “‘Course not, you’d miss me too much.”)

He swallowed.  What were those lines from Legally Blonde?  “Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy.”  That was what this was, probably.  Despite his better judgment, he reached up, tucking one of the loose strands behind Pidge’s ear.  Something had been knocked out of him, in his fall—he took a breath but it didn’t quite fill his lungs.

“Right here.”

Here, in the slowly shrinking space between them—and then their mouths were touching, Pidge’s lips soft and slightly chapped against his, and this wasn’t a moment he’d dreamt of but his hands moved of their own accord, found the tie in her hair and pulled it free, gently, tresses spilling through the gaps between his fingers, Pidge pushing down on him until it felt like he’d sink straight through the floor—

Oh, god.  They were on the floor. Of the training room. Where anyone could walk in—

“Pidge, wait.” Lance broke away, even more winded than before.  “What are we doing?”

She blinked at him.  Color was rising to her cheeks, but her voice remained remarkably level as she said: “I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“No, I meant,” he propped himself up on an elbow, gesturing between them with a finger, “this.”

Pidge sat back on her heels. Wary.  “I like you, Lance.”

It should have been a no-brainer, after what had just occurred between them, but Lance still felt as if he’d been clobbered over the head.  It must have seeped into his expression, because Pidge scowled.

“You don’t have to look so surprised.  Objectively, you’re not… you’re not bad-looking, and you get me differently from the others, and you make me laugh, so really, out of everyone on the ship—”

And there were the words he’d been dreading.

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” Pidge frowned.

“You said: ‘Out of everyone on the ship.’  That’s settling. That’s talking like we’re never going to get back to Earth.”

Pidge’s eyes widened.  “Lance, that’s not what I mean.”

“Think about it.  We’ve been up here for what, four years?  Spending time with the same company day in and day out, it might just be—” He made a halfhearted motion with his hand.  “Cabin pressure?  Stir craziness?  Things get a little weird but that doesn’t—that doesn’t make me the one.”

“What makes you so sure you aren’t?” Pidge’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.

“I just—” He didn’t know why he was sabotaging himself like this.  He’d been chasing a relationship for so long, it felt, and now here it was, literally in his lap.  But the words came anyway: “What about all the places you haven’t been yet, and all the people you haven’t met?  I don’t want that to get forfeited for… me.”

“Lance.” Pidge’s fingers dug into the cloth of his shirt, just above his heart. “It doesn’t have to be this whole future planned out.  What about right now?”  Her eyes bore into his.  “Right here?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe people could have more than one love, over a lifetime.  If anything, Lance believed in an abundance of affection.  But something had shifted, and he didn’t know how to tell Pidge that he couldn’t talk about a here and now without wanting the promise of a future, and the yearning split him in two, because if— when —they got back to Earth, they’d probably be going after different things.  A sadness overtook him, for something he hadn’t even lost yet.

Pidge mistook his silence for disagreement.

“You could just tell me, you know,” she said lowly.  “If you don’t feel the same.”

And with that, she stood up.  Her weight lifted from his chest.

He didn’t breathe any easier.

Long-range fighting had always been Lance’s strength, and he understood it better, now.  It messed you up so much more when you could see the hurt you inflicted up close.  He could fix this—a few words and they’d be back on track, the misunderstanding smoothed over—but maybe it was for the best, to quit while they were ahead.  To manage the hurt while they were still Lance and Pidge and not Lance-and-Pidge.  They were going to get back to Earth, eventually, and she would go to her mom and he would find his way back to Varadero so didn’t it make sense, to not make any promises?

He didn’t want to be responsible for holding anyone back.

The training room doors slid shut.

[reprisedpiece]

Take A Break

Pairing: Mike Faist x LawStudent!Reader

Warning: mentions of curse words and breaking down

Request/s: 

- “YES! definitely would love like a law student! reader x connor or mike!!” - “If you’re still accepting requests, could you write a law student reader x Mike Faist where the reader is super stressed out? Thanks!“ - “omg i would kill for a law student reader x mike faist tbh“

Word Count: 1943

Note: this is extremely fluffy i’m warning you guys. but hey i enjoyed writing this. send me more requests please even if it isn’t career!reader i’m willing to write a n y t h i n g. hope y’all like this. as always, feedback is appreciated.

MASTERLIST

You knew law school was going to be very difficult. You came from a family of lawyers so you’ve heard the stories over family reunions and Fourth of July barbecues. They would tell you how they consumed liters of coffee so that they can go through their entire tenure in law school. 

You knew you could handle the pressure. You were taught that a lawyer entails a strong will with an unwavering spirit. You had to be tough because you would have to stand up for your clients.

Still, having someone by your side would make things better. You knew you would eventually need someone to be there when times get tough, when you feel like you couldn’t handle it. Every student breaks down ones in a while and they had someone.

You had Mike. You’ve been together for three years. You met him when you were still in college and watched him play as Jack Kelly in Newsies: The Musical. You were disappointed when you heard Jeremy Jordan wouldn’t be there but that disappeared when you watched him perform his heart out. He saw you after the show, talked, went out for a cup of coffee, and that was that. 

You had Mike and he had you. That’s how it is. But recently, you thought that changed.

With Dear Evan Hansen being one of the most-awaited musicals of the year, performing eight shows a week and rehearsing for the rest of the time became the reason why you hardly saw him anymore.

He’d still be asleep when you had to get up for your classes and when you get home, he’d be out there on a show. By the time he gets home, he’d give you a kiss and then sleep while you studied one case file after another.

You couldn’t blame him. He was tired too. And besides, you were busy. You didn’t see the need to wake him up. Both of you were too caught up with your respective careers, too focused on making a name out there. You always thought that career would always come first and that both of you would be perfectly fine despite the heavy demands of your careers.

Until today.

It was all because of the bar examinations. Coming from a family of lawyers who passed the bar on their first try, this was nerve-wrecking. The pressure of following in the steps of your predecessors had you sitting in your room, tears prickling your eyes and threatening to fall.

“Taxation law is a fucking pain in the ass.” You mumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision from tears. It was no use. 

Tears continued to form even when you rubbed them away. The bar examination was three days away and you were still having a hard time with that particular area. 

You’ve been studying for 28 hours and yet you feel stuck. You let out a sigh as you grabbed your pen and continued to hit the books. 

Two hours into reviewing, you felt your back and your neck starting to ache. You tried to shrug the pain away but it was no use. Your body yearned for rest, specifically on the soft bed behind you.

Soon enough, your hands were starting to shake. You tried rubbing your hands together in attempt to put a halt on its involuntary movements but it didn’t help.

The next thing you know, you were sobbing. Tears blurred your vision and you knew you were getting your notes wet. Your buried your face into your hands, crying.

You pushed everything off your table. The books, papers, and notecards, scattering on the floor.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to fail this exam, fuck.” You were mumbling to yourself as your confidence dropped. You placed one of your hands to your mouth, trying to silence your cries. Your other hand reached for your hair, tugging on it in frustration. 

You couldn’t stop crying, you couldn’t calm yourself down, you couldn’t even breathe properly. 

You didn’t hear Mike knocking on your door through your cries.

He knew that the bar examinations were near so he took a day off to surprise you. He knew that he hasn’t been around lately so to compensate, he wanted to spend the entire day with you to help you relax.

He bought his hard drive with him so you can watch movies, bought popcorn and ice cream, he even stopped by a flower shop to buy you a bouquet of sunflowers because he knew you loved them.

He walked up to the apartment. Normally, he’s just use the key but he had so many stuff in his arms that he decided to just knock on your door. 

“Y/N! Could you open the door? I have a surprise for you.” He said loudly, grinning from ear to ear. He was excited to spend the day with you.

He waited for five minutes and you still haven’t attended the door. Mike’s eyebrows crunched up in confusion. He tried knocking again. “Y/N? Are you there?”

He placed his ear against the door, only to hear soft cries from the other end.

Mike quickly put the flowers, food, and his bag on the ground. He started fishing around his pocket for the key.

When he the door, what he saw made him run to you immediately.

You felt arms wrap around you tightly. You didn’t even have to look up. You knew it was Mike. Even if you haven’t spent most of the past weeks with one another, you’d never forget how it would feel like to be in his arms.

Your crying still hasn’t seized. Your fists were still curled up in you hair and you leaned back against his chest. Mike was hushing softly, rocking you in his arms in attempt to calm you down. He ran his fingers down your hair. He pried your fingers off your hair and interlocked them with his.

After some time, your sobs reduced to tears falling from your eyes. Your throat started to hurt from crying and you felt numb, tired. 

Mike continued to mumble soft nothings in your ear, even mumbling a series of apologies for not being there. Still cradling you in his arms, his eyes scanned the room. He stared at the heap of books and papers scattered on the floor before shifting his gaze on you.

“Maybe I’m not cut out for this.” You whispered softly, not a trace of hope could be heard from your voice. 

“Y/N-”

“I can’t even go though an exam without bursting into tears. How am I suppose to defend a client in front of a jury and a judge?” Your voice started quivering and Mike’s heart broke. He knew this was your dream and here you were, losing confidence at what you do.

He pressed a kiss on your temple. “Y/N, everyone goes through a rough patch every once in a while. Not everyone is perfect. People break down once in a while, it’s a way to release stre-”

“Lawyers aren’t criers! They’re tough. I mean, who the fuck cries because of tax law? Apparently, I do!” You exclaimed in frustration.

Mike hushed you once again, twirling your hair with his finger. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of that. It’s better to let everything out once in a while than to keep it all in. I bet Obama has broken down before,” He joked. 

You managed to crack a smile at his last sentence, which quickly fell after another though flooded your head.

“I just, I don’t know anymore. I really don’t want to disappoint my family, Mike.” You spoke softly, staring down at your intertwined fingers.

He gave you a sad smile. “I know you don’t. But if you focus on just becoming a bad ass lawyer rather than being the ultimate perfect daughter, which really can’t be achieved, maybe that would help in lifting the weight off your shoulders,”

He held you closer to him, his chin sitting on top of your head before speaking again. “Focus on yourself, Y/N. Focus on what you want and what you want to be. Your parents already know how hard you’ve been working and I believe they are proud to have you as their daughter.”

“But what if I fail?” You began wiping your tears away, chuckling bitterly. “Still proud of me?”

“Behind a single success is a series of failures. You’ve worked hard to achieve your dream. You’ll get there one way or another. Even if that means failing it for the first time,”

He tightened his embrace. “And let me tell you this, Y/N. I am incredibly proud of you. You will be an amazing lawyer. You’ll be a hero out there.” 

You felt tears welling up in your eyes once again but this time, they’re tears of happiness. You looked up at him. You placed your hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. 

“Thank you, Mike.” You said as you pulled away. “It was a good thing you came or else I would still be a mess.” 

He frowned at you, yet still holding you in his arms. 

“Hey,” He took a hold of your chin, making you look at him.

“Me being here was pure luck. The next time you feel upset, you get me. You can call me, text, email, call Ben or Will, I don’t care. No matter how small it may seem, you contact me when you feel bad and I’ll be here to help you as soon as I can.”

“Mike, it’s fine. I can handle most things by myself. This was an exception. I know you’re busy with-”

“I’m saying you don’t have to handle it by yourself unless you really want to, unless you really want to be by yourself for a while. I will respect your decision. Just know that no matter how busy we are, I’ll always be here for you. “

He placed a kiss on your forehead. “You will always come first.”

“I love you a lot, you do know that right?” You tell him.

“And I’d never forget it. I love you too much to let yourself get in the way of your own dreams.” He said.

“We got each other’s back no matter what?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“No matter what,” He confirmed. “I mean, it’s kind of my job. You know, as your boyfriend and all.” He continued with a cheeky grin on his face.

His gaze shifted to your pile of books. “Now, what do you want to do?”

“I think I’ll just review for a fe-”

“I have popcorn, ice cream, movies, and flowers for you.” He cut you off. 

You stared at him, mouth agape. Mike nudged his head towards the door. You snapped your head to that direction, only to see your favorite snacks in their favorite flavors and a bouquet of sunflowers.

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “C’mon, Y/N! Take a break. You need it.”

You giggled at his actions, pulling him away from your neck. “Fine! But help me review afterwards?” You say, putting your hand out for him to shake.

“You got yourself a deal.” Mike said, shaking your hand before pulling you in a kiss.