#((laughs a late greeting oops

[daycourtofficial]

Now I’m in exile seeing you out

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: none

Summary: a follow up to you’re losing me - You've reached your tipping point where you can't forgive Azriel's constant choice of work over you. Can he fix things? Or did things get wildly out of hand and it's too late?

Author’s note: you guys loved part one, hopefully this offers a satisfying conclusion 🥰

2k celebration masterlist

Your new apartment was quiet, not even your neighbors were making noise. You had grown accustomed to the silence the past few months - Azriel always being gone had left the house a certain way - too large, too quiet, too much without him. This silence felt different.

It wasn’t full of expectation - of wanting Azriel to come through the door or expecting him to treat you like he did in the before.

Now you’re in the after, your finger feeling light from the lack of the ring on it. Fae don’t usually wear rings - a human custom that Feyre had told you all about, one that Azriel found quite romantic.

“So that way when we are buried and our scents are gone, if anyone found our bodies, they would know what we were.”

His words were romantic, but now the tan line on your finger just made you feel hollow, as if this wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Any sound you made just echoed through the too empty space - you had foolishly gotten rid of most of your previous furniture when you and Azriel bought a house - your new furniture not arriving for a few more days. Feyre had found you this apartment rather quickly when you showed up at the River House in the middle of the night, uncertain of where else to go. She and Rhysand had agreed to let you stay there until you found a place of your own and they also agreed to not tell Azriel where you were.

“We could start fresh,” you had said to him, mainly wanting a good enough reason to throw out the couch you’ve had for half a century. But now all the new furniture was left behind, in a house too big for one occupant, probably laughing at your past words.

A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look through the peephole to find Feyre standing outside with a large plant of some sort. You unlock the door, letting her in. She gives you a soft smile and hugs you, the absurdly large plant making it somewhat difficult to get your arms around her.

She chirps a greeting to you, rubbing your back gently as you pull back from her. She knew why you had done it - you spent several nights over the past year on her couch crying to her over Azriel and his lack of time for you.

Behind her came Rhys, carrying several buckets of paint, rollers, tins, tarps. Your eyebrows raised, “is this your new art studio, Feyre? Are you going to teach Rhys how to paint?”

She giggles and Rhys rolls his eyes at you, setting the things in his arms down before kissing you on the top of your head. You lean into his touch before he pulls away, softly telling you, “we’re helping you paint the place - white walls are boring.”

In the days to come over the next week, you had multiple visitors. They all made you feel better while they were here, but whenever they left you felt that Azriel shaped hole in your heart all over again. Cassian had been the first after Feyre to visit, barreling into your apartment, nearly squeezing the life out of you once he got in the door, upset he had to wait so long to see you.

“Cass, it’s been four days.”

“The house’s not the same without you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Cassian gave you a look that you didn’t like, and the two of you were teetering on the edge of the forbidden. You had asked Feyre to tell everyone they can come visit, but not to talk about Azriel in any way.

Unfortunately, much of Cassian’s life involves Azriel so he had a much harder time than everyone else. Any time he’d veer into Azriel territory, he’d quickly go, “oops” and cover his mouth very quickly, as if he had cursed in front of a child.

Elain had visited the next day, offering to help you prepare some potted window plants. The two of you walked through the Velaris markets, Elain prattling on about different kinds of plants. You knew she was trying to distract you, help you pick up the pieces of your broken life. So you picked out different plants for your windowsill, the weight of them in your arms much lighter than the weight of your emotions.

It was hard wandering the streets with Elain - this city felt so much like him, the streets littered with cafes the two of you frequented. Elain, whose presence you enjoyed greatly, felt like a stabbing reminder of what you lost.

You know Elain came in with you when you got back to your apartment, repotting the plants into the window planter she brought. Fresh dirt covered their roots, allowing them to grow in their new place. You can’t remember what Elain spoke about, just nodding along with her until you eventually found yourself alone again.

Each day brought a new member of Azriel’s family to visit, and you loved them, truly loved them, but it was hard to feel like they were coming for you as opposed to coming on behalf of him. You knew they loved you, despite whatever was happening between you and Azriel, but your interactions were always colored with him in the background.

You had been expecting Nesta to show up when you opened the door to find Azriel looking back at you.

You were a bit surprised at the restraint he maintained waiting so long, a whole week passing since you had left, but you said all you wanted to say in that note. You wanted him to feel awful, to finally see how you were feeling.

You just hated that it came to this to get him to see you.

He looked terrible. His shadows were pooled at his feet, darting towards you with affection, dancing around you. His wings were practically dragging on the floor, his shoulders sagged, his hair was a mess. His eyes looked lifeless, his jaw covered in stubble.

Good.

“Azriel,” you bit out, not an ounce of affection in your tone. “May I help you?”

“I want you to come home.” His words were clipped, agitation clear in his voice.

“This is my home, you may come in for a few minutes if you want to talk.”

You didn’t really want to invite him in, wanting him to stand outside your door, feeling as unwanted as you had for so many months. But you had new neighbors, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how nosy they were with this conversation.

The sight of him made you so angry, but a tiny part of you wanted to reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair, and coax him to come to bed so the two of you could actually sleep.

He shut the door behind him before turning back to you.

“Please, come back. I’ll be better.”

Your hands nestle onto your hips, your jaw rotating in annoyance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He sighs, his feet moving of their own accord across your floor, pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor.

“Was I not enough for you?”

His words send you into a tailspin of rage, your vision going red. “Azriel,” you say, voice rising, “that’s a funny thing to ask, when you were never there! I gave you everything. Endless excuses, endless empathy. I spent so much time telling people that what you were doing was okay, that I forgot it wasn’t! You weren’t there!”

His hands run down his face, shaking his head in denial. His shadows swirled the room, and you could hear them whispering to him, but what they were saying you couldn’t make out.

“You’re the one who decided that everything I had wasn’t enough for you.”

Your words hit their mark, and the Illyrian before you halts and removes his hands from his face, looking nothing like the formidable soldier he was, but rather the boy he had been. You take a deep breath, opening your door once more behind him.

“I needed you to risk something, I needed you to choose me.”

You stop forward, pushing him through the threshold.

“Most of all, I needed you to choose yourself, too.”

You shut the door on him, leaning your forehead against the wood. The place was suffocating you with its silence. It was a new silence, compared to the one you’d wait in while Azriel was off.

This one felt full of hope and possibilities.

-

Three decades passed since that fateful night, but you could still see Azriel’s eyes in the shadows some nights. You hated burning candles - the way the shadows flickered and danced reminded you of the shadows that curled your fingers, the ones that kept you company whenever Azriel spent too long away.

You had dated here and there since Azriel - none of them lasting more than a few years. They were fine - all attractive, all nice, but they all ended for one reason or another. One moved to a different court, which you didn’t want to do. Another’s mother didn’t like you and it just didn’t work out after that. Several relationships fizzled out because there just wasn’t a spark between you two. You felt cursed, unlucky in love, destined to be alone.

Or perhaps destined to always be heartbroken.

It wasn’t all bad - you just weren’t lucky with romance. You had fallen back in love with Velaris a few years after leaving Azriel, the city lights coaxing you back. You had actually considered leaving entirely, the city feeling too much of him.

Until one day, about five years after you left, you had walked the Sidra one night, the reflections of the street lights giving the city and the river a new glow.

It enchanted you, waking you up from the stupor you had been in for so long.

After that, you spent a lot of your time around Velaris - running events for the city, making friends with several of the business owners. It felt good to find a new support system in the city - one not connected to your ex boyfriend.

You clutch your coat tighter around yourself as you weave through the streets of Velaris, heading back to your apartment. You walk by some apartments, a few men standing around outside, their boisterous laughs making you feel uneasy. One of them starts calling for you, but you ignore his words and walk faster.

You heard footsteps behind you, and you turned a corner hoping he’d stop following you.

“Leave her alone.”

You knew that voice - the deep timbre one you heard in occasional dreams, calling to you even after all these years. You stop your fast walking, turning just in time to make eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can’t run - he’s already stopped still at the sight of you, as if time was stopping for this unexpected reunion.

He stands behind the guy who was following you, his face peering over the male’s shoulder at you.

“She your bitch?”

Azriel’s growl shocks you, and the male turns, allowing his siphons to glow bright in the night. The male stops his chuckling, replaced with deep apologies, running off in the other direction as Azriel moves closer to you, and the two of you start walking in the direction towards your apartment.

The streets are quiet as Azriel follows your lead, his boots scuffing the cobblestone street. It felt strange to be next to him again, the wind rippling against the skin of his wings a sound you never thought you’d hear again.

He clears his throat, “sorry about them.” He gestures behind himself before adding, “I saw them yelling at some female and just wanted to keep anything from happening.”

You look up at him, drinking in his appearance. Thirty years had passed since he came to your apartment that day - since you yelled and screamed at him. You had wanted to yell more that day, but you were so drained from how things ended, you just wanted to move on. He looked much the same - his jawline sharp, his large nose littered with the freckles you loved so much. They were more prominent now, likely a result of the summer sun. His hair was a little lighter, cut a little shorter than you remembered it, the curls lightly dusting the top of his forehead.

You had hardly spoken to much of his family recently, your new job and not living in one of their properties making it quite difficult to schedule dinners and lunches. The last time you saw any of them was either when Elain visited you about six years ago or when you saw Cassian in a coffee shop, a tiny babe in his arms some odd years ago.

You had caught glimpses of the inner circle over the years - a wave to Feyre across a restaurant, the sight of Rhys’s smirk through a window, the bookshop clerk down the street mentioning Nesta. Glimpses of their lives, but you never allowed yourself to stop for too long to get caught back into their orbit.

You had once been so integrated into the family, but it was hard to continue when you pulled away from Azriel. They loved you, you knew that, but they were his family and it never felt quite right without him, every one of your conversations with them overshadowed by the lack of Azriel. So, you had pulled back. It’s not what they wanted, it’s not what you wanted, but it was what you needed.

So many things were the same, but he somehow looked lighter, as if the weight of the world weren’t on his shoulders anymore. It made him look so free and so beautiful.

Maybe he found someone who could finally help against his demons.

“It’s quite alright - I actually should thank you for that and for walking me home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking home alone after that.”

You two continue on in silence, the only sound your shoes against the cobblestones and the fae moving about on the streets, heading off for their nights to start as yours ended on this strange note. The silence was lingering for too long, old emotions stirring beneath the surface. You had to break the tension.

“Is Cassian a dad now?”

Azriel’s eyes widened before throwing his head back laughing. You had almost forgotten just how beautiful that sound was. Almost. “Fuck no.”

His chuckles bounce off the streets of Velaris as he mutters, “but he and Nesta still fuck like they’re desperate for one.”

“But I swear I saw him out with a kid with wings a few years ago.”

Azriel stops to think for a moment before squinting his eyes a bit, “do you remember the issues we had with wing clipping?” You nod, remembering how just the details of some of the things Azriel’s seen at the hands of his people made you queasy. “We helped a few of the women escape the camps - we’ve been trying to make safe spaces for them to live in to prove to the males that they don’t need them. It’s slow, but we’ve got a few dozen living in and around Velaris.”

Wow, you thought. Your smile is genuine as you congratulate him, “that’s impressive, Az!” He shakes his head at your celebratory tone. “Really, I know progress is slow with them, but that’s great.” You beam up at him before scratching the back of your head, “but it still doesn’t explain the kid I saw.”

“A few of the females brought their kids with them, and Cassian likes to spend time with each of them one-on-one. He says it’s a good excuse to get ice cream, but I think he just likes seeing them have a present male in their lives.”

You two continue winding through the streets, a cool breeze lifting through your hair. It was so odd to be here with him, odder still for this to feel normal. Azriel clears his throat, his voice a bit uncertain, “I’ve been uh delegating more.”

You pause, feet stopping on the road. They’re just words, nothing more, but Azriel’s never delegated. A true perfectionist to his core, he never even considered delegating any task Rhys asks of him. You turn to look at him, his hazel eyes looking back to you full of regret and longing.

“I’ve been uh, using some of the spies under me more. I’ve been trusting them with more important work.”

The two of you reached your apartment door, the same one Feyre had painted silver all those years ago. You can hear his shaky breath as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t-“ he sighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I do deserve love.”

His voice breaks at that and some piece of you shatters all over again at how poorly he was treated to never feel like he deserved anything good or kind.

“This is coming out all wrong,” he huffs, tugging lightly at some of his hair, “but Madja’s been helping me for a long time. I- it’s so hard to let me be deserving of love. I always felt I had to earn it. I felt I had to do the impossible things asked of me and that would finally make me worthy.”

He sighs, a slight thump from the door as he leans his forehead against it.

“I am worthy of being loved. And so are you.”

His hands are shaking, but his shadows wrapped around them, forming something similar to tight fitting gloves, offering some kind of security to him to continue.

“If the damage is too much, I understand. You can tell me to fuck off at any point. But if… if you would let me, I’d like to.. I’d like to show you that I’m trying. That I’ve been working on myself.”

You continue to look up at him, gobsmacked at this confessional from him.

“It’s hard. I couldn’t make progress overnight, hence my long absence. But I have made progress. I’ve uh actually been taking days off. I started going on trips to Day and Summer a few years back. I read three books at the beach a few months ago, actually.”

He laughs at the absurdity of his trip - a vacation. Something he’s never done. To spend days on his own, nothing but a book to keep him company is all you’ve ever wanted from him.

A pause. A breath. But he keeps going, needing to get his jumbled thoughts out of his head and into yours.

“It’s been a long time, but I think about you every day. I’ve probably made a fool of myself out here, but if there is any way you aren’t seeing anyone and if any part of you misses me at all…” He trails off, his fist lightly hitting the door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m bettering myself. I am better. I know it’s late, but..”

He trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Your silence was eerie, leading him to keep talking, his words unable to stop.

“I just- I never wanted things to get here. I was foolish, and I didn’t appreciate you. It took you leaving to realize I could not continue like I was… I can’t.. Let myself hurt the people I care about anymore.”

You stay rooted, pressed against the door, not moving.

They were just words, the same things that hurt you over the years of broken promises and missed dates. But they’re so thought out. He’s had thirty years to mull things over, and he feels so much lighter than before.

You’re conflicted, but the optimist in you wins out as your voice finally finds you.

“Show me.”

-

Every Sunday for several weeks at 8 AM Azriel would stand on your doorstep and knock gently. You would open the door and he would present you with a bouquet of flowers - varieties of colors and species made their home on your dining room table as the weeks go by.

The two of you stroll through the city. The city you loved so dearly and for so long, parts of it feeling impossible to look at without thinking of the male next to you.

He would usually open up with some story about Cassian or Rhysand to break the ice. Then he’d tell you about his week - where Rhysand had sent him off, what he did on his days off that weren’t Sunday, anything that stood out. The two of you wander the streets, only stopping for occasional treats to eat while continuing your walk.

As the weeks go by, he starts filling you in on the past thirty years. For a long time, he saw Madja almost daily. She began providing him with herbs that helped regulate his moods, helped him sleep better, and helped him feel better. She also began having him comb through the deepest parts of himself he tried to forget, the memories of that little boy abandoned in that dungeon. He’d also tell you about how the rest of the Inner Circle was doing - Feyre and Rhys were trying for a baby, Elain was traveling a lot, Nesta and Cassian were… Nesta and Cassian.

Now he only sees Madja every other week, and she seems quite impressed by his progress. She should be, you think, he’s a far cry from the male you kicked out of your apartment all those decades ago.

After a few weeks, you began opening up to him as well. How hard it was to leave, your relationships in your time apart, how empty everything had felt without him, how you’d developed some strong friendships in the years apart.

“I had to pick up the pieces of myself too, Az.”

His heart pangs with guilt, but you reach out for his elbow, eyes bright with beginnings.

“I always wondered what I’d do if you came back to me, but I never thought you’d be how you are now. You seem so… light?” Your voice comes out more like a question, and you chuckle. “You just seem so different, but in a good way.”

“I feel different. I feel like I’m not… like I’m not that little boy anymore. Like I don’t have to prove myself to be loved. If not by you, by someone.”

His words linger in the air and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at his words.

“I do want it to be you, though. If you’d have me, that is.”

Your heart wanted you to lean forward, wanted nothing more than for you to wrap yourself in his embrace. But before either of you could move forward, you had to know, one way or another.

“Why did you keep pushing the wedding back?”

Your voice was soft and shaky, but the question had been lingering on your mind for so long, it was on the tip of your tongue every time the two of you met up.

“I couldn’t tell you before because you would have been so nice about it, but I- I thought I was ruining you. I didn’t want you, so kind, so wonderful, to be tethered to me for all eternity. But I was too selfish to let you go. I still am, I suppose.”

He shrugs, his shoulders folding inward toward you, his wings drooping a bit. “I know now how ridiculous that sounds, but I.. wanted you but I also wanted better for you.”

He turned toward you, his skin shining like gold in the sun. He was radiant - a word hardly ever used for him before. He looked as Helion does, as if the sun was redirecting its rays through him.

“So I became better for you, for myself, for my family.”

And that was what you needed to hear. It was never about you (in many ways it was), but at the end of the day, you always wanted what was best for the both of you.

And he became that.

On a beautiful summer day, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands reaching upwards to pull his face into yours.

And by gods even his kisses felt lighter.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

People who asked for a part two: @piceous21 @itsswritten @leeknows-wife @12344321heyyy @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @naturakaashi @janebirkln @slut4acotar @kaitttttttt @queerqueenlynn @anuttellaa @dee-writes-smut @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @michealharrypotter @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl @crazylokonugget @yearninglustfully

Thanks for reading 💕

[bloompompom]

♡ content: ~1k word count. eren jaeger x fem!reader, free use, established relationship, oops just filth, PIV sex, mentions of aftercare, explicit language, explicit sexual content. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

I don't know about you, but I find free use super hot, and I can't help but think Eren would agree

Like, there’s just something about it, perhaps the devotion aspect—about you, his baby, his one and only, being available, willing, and happy to satisfy him, any time he wished.

Your agreement is meant for nights like this: a Friday evening after what you know was a long week for Eren. He’s been coming home late every night, practically working two jobs while his boss scrambled to fill the newly empty role at the company. For whatever reason, the responsibility fell on Eren, leaving him exhausted, tense. The kind of tense that naps and shoulder rubs can't relieve. 

And that’s where said agreement comes into play. Whenever you wear this pajama set, specifically this one—skimpy, sheer, short—it’s code for ‘anything goes.’ Anything he wants. That’s the only rule. 

Phrasing it like that makes it sound as though he’s the only one to get pleasure out of it, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth. It’s almost like foreplay, really. This little secret you can't wait to reveal. All day, anticipation bubbled low in your stomach from the moment the idea popped into your head. ‘What would really cheer him up?’ You can already see the look on his face, imagine how desperately he’d take you right then, like he couldn’t bear another second without being inside you, however he wanted. 

You’ve been thinking about your husband so much that the creak of the front door opening and closing makes your thighs clench, like you’re no better than one of Pavlov’s trained dogs. 

Assuming he’d be late again, you haven’t gotten any further than spreading some ingredients along the counter before you hear him announce himself. But tonight, he’s right on time. Even better. 

Eren finds you in the kitchen, already starting his usual ‘work sucked’ rant, when the sight of you has him shutting up. He stops dead in his tracks, just like you’d hoped. He’d undone the first button of his collared shirt, tie loosened around his neck, and he wore this look on his face like you were a welcomed—very, very welcomed—surprise. 

Rush hour was a bitch; Eren was too busy white-knuckling the steering wheel to consider this as a possibility for tonight. But then you greet him with that soft smile of yours, the one that would appear innocent to anyone else, and he almost wants to laugh like he should have known better. But you’re like a magnet; he’s only capable of drawing in closer. 

He comes to hug you from behind, his hands smoothing down your sides as he holds you close. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck, warming and tickling your skin in a mixture of kisses and faint breaths through his nose. 

You’re already spilling giggly moans when you say, “Hi to you, too.”

It’s met with a drunken ‘Hi,’ murmured against your skin between open-mouthed kisses. His hands never slow, enjoying their way over every inch of your body. They slide beneath your tank top and up your front to cup your breasts, squeezing and massaging, rolling your nipples in his fingers until he can pinch and pull flimsy whines from you. With each one, you can feel another of his needy ruts, his cock incredibly stiff against your ass even through his slacks. It only takes a few of those before you’re biting your lip at the metallic rustling of him removing his belt. 

Once that’s out of the way, his pants now pooled on the kitchen tile, the only barrier remaining is your sleep shorts. Hardly a barrier, if you ask him; they’re shamefully thin, after all. Perfectly made for pushing aside for easy-access fucking, and you were even considerate enough to forget your panties.

Eren slips a hand between your legs, trailing the tips of his fingers through you. It ignites a shiver through you, has your hips wiggling for more. But Eren isn’t any better. When he discovers how wet you are already, how you probably spent the afternoon fantasizing about being used, it absolutely wrecks him. 

Eren licks his hand before returning it to your pussy, rubbing tight circles against your clit. Then, without warning, his fingers only leave you to grab your ass, spreading you for him. His other angles his cock against you before thrusting inside. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says as he bottoms out. The end of it’s nothing more than a hedonistic hiss, lost in the feeling of you squeezing him, trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion. 

Your mouth gapes on a hitched breath, eyes screwing shut as your palms press into the counter in a vain attempt to keep yourself upright. But it only takes another thirty seconds of snapping hips, the head of his cock reaching that ‘don’t fucking stop’ spot deep inside you, before your arms start to stutter. 

He pins you to the cold granite with a hand flattened against the middle of your back. It’s soon replaced by him—the weight of his body, the heat of it—against yours as you’re smushed and bent over the counter. 

Eren’s hand bullies its way between you and the counter to play with your clit again. He likes it best when you come together, if he can manage it. 

And he does tonight. The moment he feels your body twitch beneath him, hears the intoxicating tune of your depraved cries, the steady pounding of his hips falters. As you teeter the peak of your high, your pussy fluttering oh-so nicely around his cock, he comes, hard. You swear you can feel the pulsing of his cock as he fills you, fucking it deeper as he eases himself down. 

You’re both trying to catch your breath when you feel him rest his forehead against the sticky back of your neck. He leaves you with a kiss on the same spot before turning your limp body to face him. You’re so tired he thinks it’s cute.

Eren scoops you into his arms. You know the drill, so you loop your arms around his neck and hook your legs around his waist.

Still a bit delirious, that fuzzy, warm feeling still burning in your chest, you say, “I need to make dinner.”

“No, you don’t,” he says, walking you through the house. “We’re ordering in tonight, after I draw us a bath.”

[ddejavvu]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: the hotchner family has some big news for the bau

You know you're glowing when you walk into work. Not only from your smile, but your skin is especially dewy, not from the product you'd smeared into your cheeks.

It's Emily that greets you, waving at you with her coffee rather than her hand, "Morning, Mrs. Hotchner."

"Morning Miss Prentiss," You gleam, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "How's my lovely lady doing this morning?"

"Not as good as you," She laughs airily after a moment's stunned hesitation, "What, did you win the lottery?"

"Nooo," You trek to the kitchen, ruffling Reid's hair on the way, "Just in a good mood. Derek?" You peer at the man pouring his own coffee, "Do we have any decaf left?"

His nose wrinkles, "No, we're not monsters. Why decaf?"

"Oh my god," Emily murmurs, a smile growing on her face, "Decaf?"

Penelope's head pops out from her lair at the sound of your voice, brows scrunched, "Mrs. Boss Man, you drink decaf?"

"Not normally," Emily gloats, "Does this have anything to do with you coming to work late from an unspecified doctor's appointment practically glowing?"

Penelope gasps, but at least waits for your guilty smile to start squealing.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, really? Really really?"

"Really really," You gush, accepting the hug that she nearly rams into you with, then eases up on your stomach for, "I had my first ultrasound today."

"Oh my god," Emily croons, taking the next hug, "Y/N, that's amazing. Does anyone else know?"

"Just my husband," You tease, "Where is he, by the way?"

"Right here," Rossi steps into the kitchen first, straight from a meeting with Strauss, Aaron hot on his heels, "Why are we hugging?"

"She's pregnant!" Penelope blurts, and Aaron looks only slightly mortified that you've revealed your sex lives to the team, "She's pregnant!"

"Congratulations," Dave smiles kindly, tugging you in for a side hug, "So, boy or girl? Do you know yet?"

"Well-" You start, but JJ - who'd seen everyone gathered and joined, filled in by Reid while they linger at the doorway - interrupts.

"I didn't know you were trying for a baby," She muses, remembering the last girls' night where you'd neglected to tell them any baby information at all, "I thought you said you were done?"

"Yeah," You glance at the floor, and Aaron's cheeks turn pink, "We thought so, too."

Penelope stifles a giggle into her cardigan. Morgan isn't as kind.

"O-kay," Rossi drawls with an amused scoff, "So it's an 'oops' baby. But is it a boy 'oops', or a girl 'oops'?"

"Uh, Aaron," You round on your husband, taking his hand, "There's something you should know. There's... maybe, two oops babies?"

Not even Aaron Hotchner is good enough at controlling his facial expressions to stay neutral now. His eyes widen and his lips part, words escaping him.

There's another round of squeals, a hearty slap on Reid's back from Morgan that you're sure the young doctor resents, and a jeer from Prentiss.

"Two." Aaron repeats, glancing down at your belly.

"Two," You confirm, "Erin and Aaron? Alex and Alexis? Megan and Morgan?"

Derek gives his stamp of approval with a loud, poorly-timed cheer, and when paired with the man's new knowledge of your sex life and his tendency to tease, it's Aaron's cue to disapprove.

"Absolutely not," He shakes his head, jumping into action to slip a hand down the small of your back and usher you out of the kitchen towards his office, "I'd rather go with Cain and Abel."

[toxic3mmy]

The reader walking in on Quackity and seeing him shirtless for the first time and seeing how hot he is 😳🤭

he would definitely be shy and all flustered HNGGGGH🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

[its a bit short SOWWYY]

prompt: you walk in on alex shirtless

no warnings!!

“hey lexie, have you seen my—”

you paused as you walked into alex’s bedroom. he had his earphones in and you heard him playing music loudly from where you stood. he was ironing his shirt.

he stood in only sweatpants that sat low on his hips. you could see his well defined chest and arms flexing as he moved the iron back and forth on his dress shirt. the window let in rays of sunshine that practically acted as a spotlight on alex’s torso.

he didn’t have a super muscular build but it was definitely slim and fit. your eyes naturally followed his porcelain skin down to his happy trail. you were drooling at the sight

god, you wanted to beg for him to let you suck him off right there..

you shook those thoughts from your head and closed your mouth that was open in awe. you moved a bit closer to alex so that he would be aware of your presence.

he looked up from ironing and sheepishly took an earphone out to greet you.

“oh hey.. did you say something? sorry, i had my music up um really loud” he smiled and nervously tried to reach for the shirt he was going to wear underneath his dress shirt. he grabbed it and before he could slip it over his head fully, you stopped him

“alex… you look so good.. don’t hide your body from me. you look fucking sexy right now..” you complimented, letting your hands run across his chest and down his fit body

“i just- i’ve never been shirtless in front of you.. im a bit embarrassed right now, haha” he smiled nervously, his cheeks turning a soft pink

“don’t be embarrassed… im honestly so lucky to have such a handsome boyfriend, just look at you baby” you wolf whistled at him and he turned an even darker shade of red

“y/n, quit it!” he yelped, covering his face

you laughed heartily and moved your hands to hug him close to you.

“im so serious alex… the way you look right now, id do anything you asked me to” you purred

“woah-hey! con respeto y/n! im not just a piece of meat for you to gawk at!” he huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, pretending to be angry but failing miserably

“i can’t help it… oh my, i didn’t know there was going to be a gun show tonight” you gasped exaggeratedly, your hand reaching out to squeeze his flexing bicep

“back away, perv!” he smacked your arm playfully

“c’mon y/n, we’re gonna be late!” he continued

“maybe we should just stay home…” you said, kissing his neck softly

“oh no, not again… please, im begging you” he teased

“pretty please…” you pleaded, looking up at him while you slowly knelt down to your knees

“well, i guess we can be a little late…” he said, caressing your hair gently

“you’re gonna be the death of me, y/n” he gasped, letting his head fall back in pleasure as you began to suck him off eagerly

you two ended up being so late that you didn’t even bother to show up. oops?

[leilakisakabiri]

Once You Know (Pedri)

Summary: The three times Pedri tried to confess his feelings for you, and the one time he succeeded.

A/N: Had to post for Pedri's birthday (three days late oops)! Happy 21st to him. Requests are open.

Word count: 3.6k+

Masterlist

The first time he felt an urge to tell you how beautiful you looked he nearly gave himself whiplash turning to do a double take. It was his 21st birthday party and he had gone all out. Hosting a private party on a famous rooftop club in Barcelona. You had just moved to Barcelona the month before - entering your final year of university and having an internship in the city.

He was ecstatic to have you there. You two had been friends since you were nearly eight, your families being friends due to owning restaurants on the same strip. While you were close growing up, as Pedri moved away and you started university the two of you had slowly drifted, seeing each other every couple of months as opposed to weekly. However, now that you had moved to the same city as Pedri, he had taken the opportunity to invite you to his party, hoping to see you again.

You arrived a little later than everyone else, having to rush straight from work. You quickly changed in the bathroom, putting on a sundress and trying to fix your makeup as best as you could. You were extremely nervous. You hadn't seen Pedri in over three months and had also never been to such a high-class event. You had never visited him before moving to Barcelona and you were anxious about the thought of meeting his friends who also happened to be world-class athletes and had more money than probably your whole hometown combined.

As soon as you entered the club you spotted Pedri leaning against the railing talking with another player. Torres, you realized.

Seeing as you didn't know anyone else here you headed straight for them.

You came to stand next to Torres facing Pedri, "Hey. Happy Birthday!"

You saw Pedri spare you a glance as his lips lifted in a smile, "Hey. Thanks."

He turned back to his conversation and you stood awkwardly with your present unsure how to give it to him seeing as the conversation ended.

You opened your mouth to speak up when you saw his head snap back to you, eyes growing wide as he realized who you were, "Holy shit Y/n! I'm sorry I didn't even recognize you."

He pulled you into a hug, warm hands pressing against the small of your back.

You giggled against him as you gave him his present, "For you."

His hand went to grab yours as he squeezed, "Thank you."

You gave him a smile, unsure what you were feeling. Seeing again him, felt like the universe was finally falling back into place. Like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

"This is my friend Fernane." He introduced you to the other player.

You smiled, giving him a wave, "Nice to meet you."

The boy waved back at you, a grin on his face, "Sorry didn't catch your name."

"Y/n."

"Well Y/n, do you wanna go grab a drink while Pedri greets everyone else?"

You laughed in agreement, following behind him to the bar.

Pedri watched you go, his heart beating a little too fast for his liking, and the urge to tell you to stay with him stronger than ever. The feeling kept growing, continuing to creep into his mind, until all he could do was think about you, about how much you reminded him of home, about how safe you made him feel, how content.

Maybe he did see you as more than a friend. But then again - the two of you had known each other since you were kids, and maybe he was just getting emotional at the thought of someone from home being so close to him now. Like a piece of the islands and his childhood had finally come back to him.

However, the way your dress wrapped around your figure as the wind flowed past you, and the way your perfume lingered in the air even after you walked away, was beginning to make him dizzy.

He thought there might be something there, but even if there was he wasn't sure how to approach it, or even if he ever would. You two worked best as friends.

So, therefore he couldn't be sure. Definitely not. He concluded that the liquor was getting to his head.

He didn't know how to feel. Actually, fuck it. He did know how he felt. He just didn't know what to do with the information.

He had never been in a situation like this before. Sure, he had liked girls in the past before, but they were people he had met without any intention of being friends. But with you it was different, you were friends first, and for so long. He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started to think of you as more of a friend, but he knew that the night of his birthday hadn't been the first time, but simply the time he finally realized it.

He had chickened out that night. Unsure of how to talk to you. Unsure if you were even single. The two of you hadn't talked for a while and he didn't know anything about your situation other than that you moved for work.

He hoped there was no one else. He really hoped. But then again maybe you already being taken would make it easier for him to move on.

He wasn't sure why his feelings for you came on so strong. One day it was just an inkling in the back of his mind, and the next he could see you everywhere and in everything. He would be listening to a song in the car and one lyric would randomly remind him of you, or he would be training and his mind would start to wander, wondering what you were doing right now, if you were on lunch break or busy studying.

He thought there was something seriously wrong with him.

Because why was he thinking about you so much? Why did he keep hoping you were watching his games, even though you had never asked to come to one before?

His fingers hovered over the button as he debated pressing send. In any normal situation, it wouldn't have been an issue, just one friend asking another to come to their game, but now that felt how he did, the task became that much more daunting.

"God damn it Pedri just send it!" Torres leaned over the boy's shoulder, annoyance plastered across his face.

"I'm nervous. What if she says no?"

He gave him a blank expression, "Then she says no. Big deal. But seriously she's your friend, it's not weird, just send it."

Pedri bit his lip, still unsure, "Fine."

Your phone screen lit up as you got a text. Stretching you reached out to grab it expecting it to be your manager sending you details about the file you were working on but you were surprised to see a text from Pedri instead.

"Hey, hope your first few weeks in Barca have been good! Barcelona's playing this weekend and I have two extra tickets if you want to come and bring a friend."

You smiled at the unexpected gesture. You had always wanted to go to a Barcelona game but felt weird asking Pedri if you could come.

"I would love to! Are you sure though? I can buy tickets if you need to give them to someone else."

Your phone buzzed immediately.

"No one else needed them, so they're all yours."

Lies. His brother had wanted to come to the game this weekend but he had told him no, not wanting to overwhelm you with his family in case you did say yes.

You agreed to take them and texted your friend, one of the biggest Barca supporters you knew, and asked them to go with you.

Your phone quickly became overrun with messages as they texted back asking a million questions about how you got family tickets and who you knew.

The day of the game arrived and you were abuzz with excitement. You contemplated what to wear, should you just go for a casual look or should you wear a jersey? And if you did wear a jersey should it be a blank one or Pedris? Would it be weird if you wore his? 

You guys were friends, but he had also never offered you his jersey. 

You opted for a regular fit, choosing to just wear a Barca scarf that your friend lent you. 

Arriving at the stadium, you immediately texted Pedri in awe of how big it was, and how many people there were. 

“Just got here. This place is massive. Excited to see you play!” 

Your friend tugged you to your seats, making you take a hundred pictures of him in the stands. 

“Oh my god Y/n I can’t believe we’re actually here. I haven’t been to a game since I was like seven, and I’ve never sat in the family section before. I feel famous.” 

You laughed next to him, “I know. Mean either - it’s a little overwhelming.” 

He sighed next to you, “So are you finally going to tell me who you know on the team? Is it Lewandowski or something? Or Gavi?”

You shook your head no, “Pedri actually.” 

His mouth dropped open, “No way.” He smacked your arm, “How come you never told me? And how come you never invited me to a game before?” 

You shrugged, “I dunno we’re friends but he’s never invited me before. This is my first game too.” 

His eyes twinkled, “Dude he totally likes you.” 

“No way. We’ve known each other for years.” 

“Ok, but he didn’t invite you till now.” 

“I just moved to Barcelona. He’s trying to be friendly.” You defended. 

He squinted his eyes, “Mhm ok. Does he know I’m here?” 

You nodded. 

“Ok but does he know you brought a guy?” 

You frowned, “He said I could bring a friend. You’re my friend.” 

His smile widened, “Right but he doesn’t know that.” He pointed out. 

“You’re making this weird.” You whined. 

He held up his hands in surrender, “Fine but if he thinks we’re dating it’s your fault.” 

The game started after that and the both of you became immersed in watching, shouting along with the rest of the fans. Besides yourself, you felt your mind wander back to your conversation with your friend, your heart skipping a beat when you thought about Pedri and the possibility of more. 

You scolded yourself immediately, he was your friend, and that was it. 

Although you couldn’t deny that he looked good down on the pitch, cheeks adorned with a pink hue and sweat trailing down his neck from running on the field. 

Your friend left to go to the bathroom near the end of the game, Barcelona was at a stalemate with the opposite team, neither being able to break the other’s defensive line. 

Finally, in the 84th minute, you saw Pedri make a break for it. He ran past the defenders, skillfully side-stepping one and doing a few tricks you remember him learning back when he still played for your school team. He saw the opening the same time you did and without another thought, he kicked. The ball landed in the back of the net with a thud. 

Screams. All around you. Everyone was chanting Pedri’s name, and the boy in question was running towards the fan section, his hands already up in his signature pose. 

He was embraced by his teammates, a proud smile on his face. Finally, they left him, beginning to walk back to their starting positions as he followed. Suddenly though he turned back around, his eyes going up to the family section, arm going up to point at you. 

You bit your lip trying and failing to hide a smile. You had no idea why he was pointing at you but you would be lying if you said you there wasn’t a warm fuzzy feeling in your tummy because of it.  

You saw his grin widen as yours spread across your face. 

He was running on a high. 

Nothing was going to stop him now. He had scored a goal and then partially dedicated it to you. And you had smiled. At him. 

He felt like he was on top of the world. He had never understood it when other players had told him how important it was to them when their partners were able to come and watch them. The only thing Pedri had to compare it to was his family, and while he was always happy when his family could come, there was an unmatched feeling when he looked up and saw you in the stands, knowing that you had taken the time of out of your day to come and support him, and not because you had to, but because you wanted to. It made him play better, wanting to impress you, wanting to hear how good he was from your lips. 

He had texted you to meet him outside the locker room minutes ago and you told him you were on the way. 

He was going to do it. He had to do it. 

He wasn’t even sure himself why he was so adamant about telling you now, but everything felt perfect like it was now or never. 

He heard you before he saw you, talking with someone. He followed your voice, his eagerness, and excitement on full display. You hung up the phone as soon as you made eye contact with him, your smile mirroring his as you closed the distance between the two of you. You hugged him tight as he lifted you, his joy rubbing off on you. 

“You did amazing. You should be so proud.” You beamed, fingers squeezing his shoulders as he put you down. 

He was smiling in a way that was starting to make you breathless.

“Are you though?” He asked, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Am I what?” 

“Proud. Of me?” 

You wanted to laugh at the absurd question, of course, you were proud of him, who wouldn't be? But the way he was looking at you, eyes shining with sincerity, like he really needed to know, made you sober up and want to give him an honest answer. 

“Of course. I’m always proud of you.” You exhaled, not being able to look away from his annoyingly pretty eyes. 

There was a beat of silence before Pedri began to speak a determined look on his face,

“Y/n I have to tell-” Pedri’s voice got drowned out by another familiar one. 

“Y/n why did you just leave me? I barely-” Your friend's voice trailed off when he saw what he had just walked in on. 

“Oh hey, guys.” He greeted awkwardly. 

Your hand slipped off of Pedri’s shoulders and the action did not go unnoticed by the boy, “Oh Pedri this is Ian. Ian this is Pedri, the one from my hometown.” 

Ouch. 

There was that feeling in his heart again, just like when he had first seen you again for his birthday, but now instead of making his insides feel warm it was tearing them apart. 

Was that all he was to you? Some kid you just knew from your hometown? And who was this guy anyway? Had he just given you a free date night? 

So many questions and you just kept staring at him like you were expecting him to do something. But do what? Pretend to play nice when all he wanted to do was wallow in his misery. He was going to be sick. 

“Hey. Sorry, I forgot I have to do something right after this. I gotta go.” His voice sounded cold even to his own ears and he forced himself to act nonchalant. 

“Oh, do you want us to wait for you?” 

“No, I already have plans with someone else.” 

“Oh…ok.” Your voice trailed off, not knowing how to respond to that and honestly feeling a little stupid for thinking he would want to do something with you after. 

“Yeah she’s an Instagram model, so I couldn’t say no. You probably don’t know her Y/n, y’know since you’ve lived in Tenerife your whole life and don’t get out much. She’s French actually.” 

You felt the cruelty in his words. In just one breath he had taken several digs at you and basically compared you to a famous French model you knew you had no chance of competing with. He was right, you were just some random girl from a small town in Spain trying to fake your way through life in Barcelona. You felt the lump start to form in your throat, but you told yourself he probably hadn’t even meant to mean and you had just taken it the wrong way. 

You nodded, refusing to make eye contact with him, “Ok. I guess we’ll leave then.” 

“You know the way out.”

You felt Ian scoff beside you but you couldn’t focus on anything except Pedri’s figure as he walked away, your brain not being able to comprehend how it had gone bad so quickly.

He was sure now.

If there was anything he was sure of it was his feelings for you. But now the two of you weren’t even talking and every time he opened his eyes all he could think about was how badly he fucked up things between the two of you. 

He wished he could turn back time and take it all back. There had been no one waiting for him, no French model, he had just wanted to get under your skin, hoping he could hurt you to even a fraction of the degree you hurt him. But he regretted it. He regretted it the second it passed his lips, he didn’t know why he did it. It was like he wasn’t even there for the conversation, his mind pleading with him from above, warning him he was making a mistake - but he didn’t listen. 

It had been over two weeks since that night and now he was back in the Island ringing in the New Year with his family. Every now and then his mind would slip into thinking about if you were here too, just a five-minute walk away from him, having your own celebration. 

It was just an hour for twelve when he decided a night walk was just the thing he needed. He had been absent all day, mind wandering as he kept thinking back to you and he felt bad having his family deal with him in his shit mood. He decided visiting the old football field, which was in the opposite direction from where you lived, would be the best option so that he wouldn’t be tempted to walk past your house. 

It seemed fate had other plans for him though because there sitting on the grass, one barely-there street lamp illuminating the silver of your dress. was you, back turned to him. 

It seemed even when he was trying to avoid you he couldn’t stay away. 

“Y/n.” 

You jumped at the sudden noise, looking up to see who was next to you. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice was as smooth as honey and despite yourself, you felt yourself relax at the familiar sound. 

“I just missed-” your voice was soft before you remembered how he had made you feel the last time you spoke, “Actually you know what, I don’t owe you an explanation. What are you doing here? Isn’t Terefine a little small for you? I don’t think any Instagram model would want to come all the way out here.” 

You felt him sigh as he sat next to you, you felt his leg brush yours and you instinctively moved away from him. 

“Don’t do that.” You could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“Why?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

“It doesn’t make me feel good about myself. I know I messed up.” 

“Well, you didn’t make me feel good about myself. Actually, you made me feel like shit. Like you didn’t even care about me at all.” You spoke, finally admitting the truth. 

“I’m sorry. I care. I care so much.” He tried to reassure you but you weren’t giving in.

“Then why even say it? Obviously, you can spend time with whoever you want since we’re only friends, but since you invited me to the game I thought-” 

“I lied.” He cut you off. 

He continued, “There was no other girl. Just you. I lied because I thought it would make me feel better after learning the girl I liked had a boyfriend.” 

You sat in silence as you digested his words. Your heart felt like it was about to explode out of your chest, there was never someone else, but you also felt annoyed that he was so quick to jump to conclusions. He could have spared the both of you a lot of heartache if he had just asked. 

You played with the grass in front of you, finally turning to look at him as you shook your head, “You’re an idiot.” 

You felt his eyes scan your face, “Why?” 

“If you would have just asked or stayed for a second longer instead of running off you would have known that Ian is just a friend and not my boyfriend.”

“Are you fucking with me cause this isn’t funny?” It sounded like a warning but his voice was pleading. 

“No.” 

“So you're single?” He confirmed.  

You nodded again. 

He gave you a soft smile, “I lied again.” 

“What?” Now it was your turn to be confused. 

“It’s not just like. I love you.”

[boba-beom]

❦ second heartbeat | kang taehyun

pairing: taehyun x f!reader

genre: fluff, highly suggestive | oneshot

warning(s): MDNI, (newly) established relationship, pet names (princess, good girl, baby, sugar🤭) taehyun a little possessive and jealous, mentions of consuming alcohol, taehyun introduces you to a little bit of thigh riding, taehyun’s a tease, public setting, implications of something more at the end. let me know if i've missed anything!

wc: 1.3k

note: this was written when tyun had silver hair, i know that was a while back T T and i’m testing the waters here— this is my first suggestive post for taehyun :’) feedback would be nice bc i’m actually really nervous oop. count this as another late birthday fic for tyun hehe

within the first couple of weeks of your new relationship, you were still getting used to holding hands, lingering touches, cheek kisses and public display of affection in general.

you've been friends with taehyun for quite a while. after all, both of you having mutual friends made it easy for you to meet up until he kept asking you to hang out, just the two of you. things have escalated since then and you've grown extremely comfortable with each other. one thing that was still in the works was just the pda in general, it was something you were still taking a while to adapt to.

"it's nice to see you again, princess." yeonjun greets you, showing off his boyish grin, a hand hardly hovering over your mid back as he leans in to greet you with a sweet peck to your cheek.

"you too, jjun." you send him a gentle smile, your eyes looking pretty in the dim but warm lighting on the rooftop.

"you too, jjun." you send him a gentle smile, your eyes looking pretty in the dim but warm lighting on the rooftop.

"i see you and taehyun are finally together, huh? took you some time." yeonjun jokes with you, and you laugh along until you see taehyun with the familiar expression from last time.

"yn, come greet the others." taehyun stands behind you, his hands resting on either side of your waist before guiding you to the direction where beomgyu, kai and soobin were sitting.

you could feel the tips of his fingers rubbing your hips through the silky material of your midi dress. a sign he's gradually becoming agitated from yeonjun flirting with you, again. you turn to face him, cupping his cheeks leaning forwards and meeting your lips with his. you could feel him let out a sigh of relief into the kiss, the tension melting away. it was completely bold of you to do that in front of others, but that was the only way you could reassure him that things are okay.

taehyun and yeonjun were the closest to each other among the group, but that also meant in terms of relationships and introducing new people, taehyun has always been weary about yeonjun flirting with whoever he introduces.

yeonjun raises both his hands in defeat while taehyun momentarily gives him the side eye, walking away until the others greet you with the respect that taehyun didn't see from the eldest of the group — light hugs and pleasant greetings.

after a couple of hours in and a few drinks consumed, you're sitting on taehyun's lap, while the others were sitting on the plush seats around the table. one of your boyfriend's arms were wrapped around your waist while the other rests on your thigh, meeting the exposed skin from the slit of your black, satin dress.

the soft exhale through taehyun's nose meets the nape of your neck, and you immediately shiver from the sensation. you couldn't see his face at all, but you can tell he's smiling to himself, remembering the conversation you two had about pacing the physical things in the relationship.

yes, you've shared a few kisses and wandering hands behind closed doors, but you haven't taken anything up a notch just yet. all you knew was that tipsy taehyun meant touchy taehyun.

your mind is going haywire as you feel the tips of taehyun's fingers lightly skimming across your plush thigh, concentrating on steadying your breaths around his friends. you were thankful the table was tall enough to hide your boyfriend's lingering touches, which were sliding up painfully slow. all worries about pda out the window, you were way past that now.

beomgyu starts talking about his recent achievements with his song writing and that he'll be producing more in a couple of weeks. you were wanting to join in and exclaim how happy you were for him , but that's all you took from the conversation until you started to tune out. it took you no longer than a second to notice the wandering fingers fiddling with where the slit of your dress meets, resting just below your hip.

you clear your throat whilst shifting on taehyun's lap, sitting higher up on his lap but he had other plans. both of you shifted, him moving you over one of his thighs, situating it between your legs. your dress manages to drape over his leg on one side so a passerby wouldn't even suspect a thing, but you can't help but think of the possibility of someone watching.

his leg starts tensing every now and then, able to feel the muscles of his thighs flex underneath you. attempting to tune back into the conversation, soobin is now talking about how he's becoming an uncle again, followed by beomgyu and hueningkai teasing him about how he should start dating again.

amongst the chaos from the trio sat opposite you, all you could focus on was the warm breathing fanning against your skin, and the irregular pulsing between your thighs. you shiver, feeling a sudden chill down your back when taehyun's fingers start to inch closer to your inner thighs. his smooth fingernails skim around the sensitive area, he loves the way your thigh twitches in response to his actions.

his other hand moves to your other leg, delicately kneading your thighs back and forth. the movement in your hip follows his hands, the light friction felt new to you, repeating the subtle movement for a few seconds. you've never done this in any of your previous relationships and it's something you haven't explored with taehyun yet. you mentally curse at him for choosing this exact moment to proceed with that, feeling the intensity of the throbs down south.

the silver-haired male leans forward, his lips lightly grazing by the shell of your ear, "you know I can feel that, right?" your brows softly knit together, figuring out what exactly he's implying. turning your head, he sees the expression he finds so adorable. leaning in again he whispers, "your second heartbeat, baby."

his voice laced with sultry, it made your cheeks heat up incredibly quickly. from the tone in his voice, he's overly smug that he's been able to tease you this whole time, but you weren't going to fall for his games; two can play.

you balance your weight on one leg as you move higher up his lap, stopping when your hip meets his. your butt gently brushes over his crotch, but he doesn't think much of it, thinking you were just shifting to sit properly. his breath hitches as you do it the second time, with a little more pressure.

now he's caught on what you're trying to do, applying a strong grip on your hips, holding you in place while he breathlessly scowls, "what are you doing to me, sugar?"

you smile to yourself, content with his response to you feeding him his own medicine. you give him a nonchalant shrug while you scan the group and accidentally make eye contact with yeonjun, in which you had a feeling he's been observing the both of you the past few minutes. his eyes bored into yours, the subtle smile still on your face while you lean back a little to whisper something in taehyun's ear, remaining that eye contact.

"I can't wait to go back home with you." and that was enough to have taehyun tighten his grip on your thighs. he shuts his eyes just from the way you implied something more, something that both of you have never done before and it was safe to say that you managed to excite him more than he'd like to admit.

he adjusts you in the smallest way possible, having you sit directly above the growing tent in his slacks, feeling your pulse against him. he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his index finger trailing down your neck and stopping in the middle of your back.

"be a good girl for now, and then show me later."

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couldn't tag: @itmehc @TXT

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[chaotic-orphan]

Hi, hope you’re having a nice day!! Love your writing :) Could you please continue heroic betrayal if you’re planning to?? Not to rush you or anything, it’s just got me slightly hooked oops! Thank you!! :)

HEROIC BETRAYAL (6)

Part one here

Continued from here

This part has had so many drafts, so so many, because I couldn’t get Supervillain right at all, and today? For some reason! It all just flowed! So you are in luck! It’s the paddy’s day weekend, struck gold! Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

They walked in a tense silence that made Hero squirm. The two of them were always chatting, or having banter back and forth. When they fell into a silence it was an easy one that never felt awkward or uncomfortable. Now, with Flynn marching Hero up a set of stairs, it felt as if they were two strangers. As if Flynn was actually a Villain.

He is, a voice sniped in the back of Hero’s mind. Flynn is a villain. The lie was his Hero façade.

Hero kept their guard up as they stepped through the door at the top of the stairs. Hero expected to be greeted with the view of a warehouse, or some top secret villain base. Maybe something from the movies, or an equal to the Hero tower HQ.

Instead, their gaze found a house. Hero frowned, wanting to turn their head and comment on it to Flynn but they didn’t. They refused. Flynn didn’t deserve their comments or thoughts on anything anymore.

“Through here,” said Flynn, pulling Hero to the right. Hero caught only a glance of the framed pictures hanging on the wall, of Flynn and Villain as children and a man and woman smiling in the picture above them. Hero swallowed.

Were they in Flynn’s childhood home this entire time?

It’s not what Hero expected at all. It was clean, almost pristinely so with wooden oak floors and a warm, homely feel to it. Clean and yet lived in.

Hero closed their lips, and just let Flynn guide them through another door into a dining room. Hero’s brows raised to the ceiling, looking at Flynn in question before they could help it.

Flynn curled his top lip inward, his tell for when he was embarrassed. “Supervillain insisted,” he said by way of explanation and brought Hero to the end of the table. It sat six people, two chairs on each end and two on both sides.

Flynn pulled out Hero’s chair and quirked his lips at them. “Can I trust you not to do something stupid?”

“You can always stop me if I do,” Hero replied sweetly, sugared smile not quite meeting their eyes.

Flynn’s smile was cold in return. “I can. Or Villain, whichever is quicker.”

Hero felt that cruel pang of betrayal bloom in their heart like a rose’s thorns wrapped thick around it. Hero didn’t reply to that, they just sat down on the chair lifting their handcuffed hands onto the wooden table and let Flynn push in their chair.

Flynn sat beside them, on their right. Hero could have laughed at the horribleness of it all. Flynn sat on Hero’s right because after endless sparring they had both realised it was Hero’s weaker hand. If Hero was going to do something stupid, going for their right hand side would be easier to subdue than their left.

How had they not seen the warning signs? How had they not realised that Flynn was working against them this entire time?

Hero trusted them. They thought if the world ever went to shit, or turned against them, Hero could turn to Flynn and still find a home in him.

Now all their trust was twisted against them mercilessly, and Flynn was a stranger who could smile at them with a bloodied face — and possibly broken nose — and threaten to have the person who broke it hurt them more.

Hero heard movement and voices behind the two doors in front of them, different than the door that Flynn and Hero entered the room through. There was a lively bustling of movement and then a man in his late thirties, early forties walked through the doors with a wide friendly smile holding two plates of something.

He had wavy brown hair, slightly overgrown around the edges, some strands tucked behind his ears Hero noticed. His eyes were sea-coloured, somewhere between green and blue, but shining with a happiness that Hero didn’t expect of Supervillain.

Then it hit Hero that they were staring at Supervillain. The Supervillain! Hero’s nemesis, their foe— the man who was always one step ahead of Hero. Hero glanced at Flynn, almost mutinously before Supervillain drew Hero’s attention back to them.

Supervillain set a plate of food in front of Hero with a big smile, then walked around Hero and placed one in front of Flynn. It was what looked like roast chicken and green beans and roast potatoes. Hero stared down at it, their mouth watering slightly and a gnawing yearning in their gut for food.

How long had they been here? Overnight at least because it was day time at the moment. Hero looked at Flynn. Flynn glanced at Hero then to Hero’s plate and dragged it over to him.

“Hey—”

“Relax, I’m just cutting up your chicken. You’re not getting a knife.”

Hero waited, watching Flynn cut up the food. Then they sat back against their chair, eyes going to the doors to see Supervillain was gone. Flynn pushed Hero’s plate back in front of them. Then Supervillain came through again followed closely by Villain, a shadow like fist holding something that was dropped in front of Hero. It smacked against the table lightly with a bounce and Hero realised it was a plastic fork.

Everyone else had proper utensils.

Hero waited until Supervillain and Villain sat down before speaking. “If you think I’m eating this, you’re dumber than I thought.”

Supervillain’s smile didn’t dim. “As you like it, Hero. Though, if I drugged you with the chicken or the vegetables I would have drugged us all.”

Hero didn’t move to grab the fork, no matter how much their stomach wanted them to. Flynn grabbed Hero’s plate, “we can swap if you like.”

Hero’s head snapped to him. “And how do I know this wasn’t all some planned ploy?”

“You don’t,” said Flynn honestly, meeting Hero’s gaze earnestly. Hero had to look away before they cried. Stupid fucking Flynn.

“If I may,” said Supervillain, his voice smooth and steady, drawing Hero’s gaze. “If I wanted to starve you, I wouldn’t have plated you up a meal. I would have handcuffed you to the chair and let you smell the food and watch us eat.”

Hero swallowed, gaze hardening into a glare as Supervillain tilted his head and shrugged lightly. “However, if you don’t want to eat I won’t force you.”

Hero sat back stubbornly, eyes not leaving Supervillain as he tucked into his divine smelling meal.

“Flynn said you wanted to talk to me.”

“I do,” Supervillain replied. “As soon as we have eaten. It’s bad for the stomach to mix work and pleasure.”

Hero blinked at him, then stared back at their plate. The steam was still rising from it, begging for Hero to eat it. Hero swallowed again, finally reaching for the fork that was discarded in front of their plate.

Nobody at the table made any remarks as Hero took their first bite of chicken. They didn’t even feel eyes on them as they ate, and with every bite the possibility of the food being drugged became less and less important as they filled the hole in their stomach.

All too soon their plate was empty and Hero set their fork back on the plate, sitting back in their seat, satisfied. Supervillain smiled at them from across the table.

“Well?”

Hero swallowed. “Really good.”

Supervillain’s smile beamed at them. “Good. Flynn, would you and Villain mind cleaning up?”

Flynn’s eyes went between Hero and Supervillain, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Supervillain looked at him. It stifled the words in his throat and he nodded and gathered his and Hero’s plate. “Sure.”

Villain did the same with their and Supervillain’s plate. “Thank you. We shouldn’t be long.”

Flynn cast one last look over his shoulder at Hero, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Then the double doors shut on both of them and it was just Hero and Supervillain alone.

Hero’s chest got tighter at the realisation. How many times had they longed to get to sit down with Supervillain and pick his brain on his strategies and plans? How long had they wanted to know his motivations behind it all? What the bigger picture was…

Now, Hero wanted to be anywhere but here.

Supervillain leaned forward, elbows resting on the table hands folded in front of him. “Flynn tells me you’re a fan of mine.”

Hero scoffed and looked away. “I’d hardly call myself a fan.”

“Of course,” he replied pleasantly. “A hero would never admire a villain after all.”

“That’s in the job description.”

“Tell me, did you ever admire Flynn?”

Hero’s eyes snapped back to Supervillain. His smile was less pleasant now, more shrewd. Intelligent, inquisitive, intimidating— his eyes narrowed in curiosity, the corners of his lips still quirked into a smile.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He was always a Villain.”

“Yes. However, that is not what I asked you.” Supervillain said lightly, not letting Hero off the hook. Hero swallowed in reply. “Did you ever admire Flynn?”

“Yes,” said Hero patiently. They couldn’t lose their cool now, they had to match Supervillain’s relaxed demeanour. “He was my partner. Obviously I admired him.”

Supervillain let out a breath. “Tut, tut, Hero. He’s a villain. How can a Hero ever admire a Villain?”

“If you want to get into some philosophical debate I’d rather Villain bash my nose against the bars of my cell again.”

Supervillain’s lips pursed. “If you like.”

The words ran like cold water down Hero’s spine. “However,” he continued, “I’d rather pick your brain before Villain rips it from your skull.”

Hero swallowed the lump that was rising in their throat. How can he be so nonchalant about telling Hero that he had no reservations about Villain killing them? It isn’t anything like Hero thought he would be.

“You wouldn’t let them,” said Hero licking their lips, making an effort not to make a face at the taste of salt and iron of dried blood dancing along their tastebuds.

Supervillain’s smile was pleasant. “No?”

“No,” Hero echoed then swallowed. “Even if you did let Villain hurt me or torture me, or whatever, you wouldn’t let them kill me. You’d rather draw it out slowly.”

Supervillain raised his hands, elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them as he stared at Hero. His sea green eyes looked stormy now, the twisting murky colour piercing through Hero’s soul. His smile was anything but friendly now.

Now, he looked like Supervillain, like Hero expected him to be. Confident, perspicacious, formidable. This was the opponent Hero had been playing alongside across the city for months now. Hero noticed their heart beating faster in their chest.

“And you say you’re not a fan,” Supervillain said, a perceptible knowing coating every smooth syllable.

“I’m not a fan of you hurting people. Killing people.”

“And yet it’s all you heroes ever seem to respond to.” Hero’s retort died in their throat. “If it takes violence to goad you out of your precious hero tower, then I will resort to violence.”

Goading? What goading? Hero’s brows furrowed down over their eyes, shadowing them slightly as their mind ran over Supervillain’s words.

“Hmm,” Supervillain hummed fondly. “Flynn said you have a look when you’re trying to solve a riddle, this must be it.”

“I don’t have a look,” Hero spat, ignoring the blush that coloured their cheeks.

“Of course you do, dear Hero. We all do. That’s why in poker you have to learn to mask your tells.”

“Are we playing poker, Supervillain?”

“No, hardly. Though I’d wager I could win your money as easy as it took me to tank that developmental property on seventh.”

Hero hope their glare was burning a hole through Supervillain’s skull until they realised they were playing right into his hands and dissolving. Hero licked their lips and leaned forward in their chair too, hands clasped on the table in front of them.

“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? You wanted me to follow Villain. You wanted them to catch me,” Hero said. Them was much easier than saying Flynn out loud.

Supervillain smiled appraisingly. “Yes.”

“And bring me here to meet you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Supervillain’s eyes flashed, something glinting within them. “Because Hero, I’ve wanted to meet you as much as you’ve wanted to meet me.”

Hero held up their cuffed hands. “Couldn’t have done it more civilly?”

“Oh please,” Supervillain scoffed, resting his palms flat on the table and pushing his chair back. Hero’s heartbeat quickened as Supervillain stood up and started making his way slowly, predatorily slowly, towards Hero like a cat playing with a mouse. Hero wanted to not move, to not show him the effect he had on Hero, but their body didn’t get the message. The closer Supervillain came to Hero the more they shrunk back into the chair, hands braced on the table ready to spring to their feet and — and then what?

Supervillain stopped beside Hero’s chair, one hand on the back of it, the other hooking a finger around the small length of chain that kept Hero’s wrists locked together. He pulled it up, Hero’s arms going with it involuntarily until Supervillain held Hero’s arms up high over their head.

Hero grit their teeth as their shoulders strained from their sitting position.

“We both knew one of us would have to be in chains for us to be able to chat,” said Supervillain tilting his head. All friendliness had melted from his face leaving a cold grin and hungry eyes feasting off the sight of Hero at his table. “I just decided it wasn’t going to be me.”

Hero tugged their arms down suddenly but they may as well not have for the lot of good it did them. Supervillain leaned down, his face close to Hero’s as he grinned.

“You should have struck first, little Hero. Then maybe the roles would be reversed, but as of right now—” Supervillain’s eyes darkened. “I control the board.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill

[r3dmooon]

Someone to Take Care of — Wally Darling x gn! reader

summery: Reader gets injured! Don't worry, Wally's there to help you feel better.

tw: Getting hit (by a ball)

a/n: First Welcome Home fic. I feel pretty good about this one! Didn't really knew how to end it tho so oops.

wc: 0.9k

Master List

Sitting on my porch, I crocheted a blanket I’ve been meaning to make for awhile now. It was a beautiful sunny day, bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds rolled overhead. How could I not sit outside? I’d look up from time to time, spotting a fluttering butterfly or bumbling bee. Taking a deep breath, the smell of freshly cut grass filled my lungs. I could hear the faint sounds of Julie laughing and Frank grumbling. A nice day indeed. 

“Well howdy, neighbor,” A familiar voice greeted me. I looked up in surprise, not having heard Wally walk up to me. I met his half lidded gaze with a small smile. He adorned his usual white button up and blue cardigan, and not to mention his iconic rainbow pants. 

“Hey, Wally,” I greeted back, resting my unfinished blanket in my lap. A warm breeze swept through and I felt myself relax at the feeling. “How are you doing?”

“Doing better now that I’m with you,” He replied smoothly, his lazy grin seeming to grow a bit. “How about you?”

“Doing great,” I replied, drawing my gaze over his shoulder, the immense eyecontact making me feel a bit uncomfortable. His head tilted a tiny bit, but he didn’t change his expression. 

“That’s good to hear,” He hummed, his monotonous voice somewhat comforting. “I see you’re working on something, mind if I join you?” I met his gaze once more, and noticed that he seemed to be carrying his art supplies. 

“Oh!” I exclaimed, feeling a bit dumb for not noticing sooner. “Of course! It’s nice to have some company.”

Wally hummed in agreement and sat on my other porch chair. He set up his easel and supplies and I continued on my blanket. The content feeling I had before only grew as now I was in the company of a friend. It was refreshing. It was like that for a while, a comfortable silence settled over us, only the humming of bugs and laughter of friends nearby breaking it. Though for some reason, the feeling of someone watching me made me tense a bit. I glanced over at Wally from the corner of my eye. He seemed to be in his own world, painting whatever it was on his canvas. I couldn’t help but feel curious. 

“(Y/n)!” I snapped my gaze up at Julie as she yelled. She had a worried look and waved her arms erratically. “Watch out!”

I didn’t realize what was wrong until it was too late. I cried out in pain as a ball hit the side of my head. In reflex, I held my head, squeezing my eyes shut. Ow, it hurt real bad, but I’ve been hurt worse. The sound of rushing feet surrounded me as I heard the worried voices of my friends.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n),” Julie cried, sniffling slightly.

“Are you alright?” The low voice of Barnaby asked.

“I told you to be careful,” Frank scolded, what I’m assuming was Julie and Barnaby. 

“Now now,” The calm voice of Wally spoke up. “Let’s not crowd them. Don’t worry everyone, I’ll make sure they’re okay.”

I opened my eyes, rubbing at the spot I was hit. My heart crumbled at Julie’s teary eyed expression. Barnaby still looked worried and I could see Frank seemed slightly worried as well.

“I’ll be fine,” I forcibly smiled, trying to ease their feelings. “Just need some ice and I’ll be right as rain.” 

Julie gave me a quick hug, and I hugged her back. They all waved as they walked off, ball laying forgotten at the bottom of my porch. I’ll have to return that at a later time. 

“C’mon neighbor,” Wally coaxed, hand out towards me. “Let’s get you some ice and a treat for being so brave.”

“I’m not a kid, Wally,” I replied with a small smile, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull me up from my seat. “...but a cookie does sound good right now…”

“Ha ha ha,” Wally laughed, his somewhat unnerving but oddly endearing laugh. “I’m sure Poppy would love to give you some as a get well soon gift.” 

Wally led me into my house, and I was hyper aware of the fact that he hasn’t let go of my hand yet. Having me sit on my couch, Wally leaned down and pressed his mouth to my forehead, his way of giving me a forehead kiss. I felt my stomach flutter as he slowly let go of my hand and made his way into my kitchen. I stared down at my hands in my lap, many feelings overwhelming me. I could still feel the imprint of where his mouth once laid. Do I like him…more than a friend? No, no I couldn’t. Wally’s just being a good friend and taking care of me after I got hurt. I’m just not used to being taken care of. That’s all. That’s what these weird feelings are. 

Wally quickly re-entered the living room, pressing the ice pack gently where I was hit. I still felt a bit shy, glancing up at him from time to time in the corner of my eye. Whenever our eyes met, I felt myself fluster and looked back down at my lap.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wally asked. 

I nodded the best I could with the ice pack pressed to my head, “I’m just not used to being taken care of.”

Wally’s gaze seemed to soften, a seemingly lovesick expression if I didn’t know any better, “It’s nice to know that people care. I care about you, neighbor.” 

I felt my chest tighten, the moment seeming more intimate. I wasn’t sure how to reply. I tried to bite down the smile threatening to overtake me but I didn’t do too well in that effort. 

“I care about you too,” I reflect. Wally only smiled, and I smiled back. I suppose getting hurt isn’t so bad if this is the outcome.

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (2)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: This chapter is a lot more dialogue-heavy to set up the scenes for the next ones. It was originally going to be angstier, but my heart wouldn’t let me. Oops. I hope you still like it though.

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: Baptism

Outside the embassy, Leon hailed for a cab to get to the bar. The journey there was in complete awkward silence, except for the occasional question raised by the cab driver, who quizzed you on why you were headed to such an unsavory place. Somehow he could tell that Leon didn’t quite belong and cautioned about certain areas being unsafe for tourists. Leon just snorted in response, while you laughed inwardly at the irony of his cover story, where he was meant to be your American tourist friend embarking on a Eurotrip.

To be honest, it really wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. Berlin was a smaller city and felt safer than New York. However, you still carried around that Swiss Army knife Leon had won and given to you back in the day wherever you went, just in case. You ran the tip of your finger along its metallic surface in your pocket. The world could be cruel to little girls after all.

As you exited from the cab, you were greeted by a lively, eclectic neighborhood, sprinkled with night markets, kebab and shisha shops, independent art spaces and late night bars. The buildings were noticeably more rundown than Mitte, the district you had traveled from, and the community a lot edgier. With both of you now dressed casually, you had no problem blending into the midnight crowd.

You swung open the doors of an unmarked establishment and found yourselves shrouded in thick wafts of cigarette smoke upon entering. Leon frowned, coughing as he swatted the air in front of him. Even though you were used to smoking being allowed pretty much everywhere in Germany, your eyes still watered as you pressed up against and squeezed past the mass of bodies in the dimly-lit, dingy bar. The smell on your clothes and hair would take days to get rid of later. It was noisy and chaotic, with nearly every inch of the space occupied by chatty, drunk customers, some more boisterous than the others. You were lucky to find a small, rickety table with two precarious-looking stools at the extreme corner of the room.

Setting your coat and day bag down on one of the stools to claim it, you folded your arms, turned to Leon and remarked, “So… an agent, huh?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Whiskey first. Then, we’ll talk.”

You rolled your eyes at his standoffish reply, wondering what his problem was. After all these years where he had led you to assume he was dead, and with the circumstances both of you had found each other in, this was the kind of attitude he took with you? A prickling feeling of agitation grew in your chest as you pushed past him, storming towards the bar in annoyance.

Upon approaching it, you breathed out a sigh of relief when you saw that you knew the bartender who was on shift tonight. He usually popped a little extra into your drinks whenever he sensed you had a shitty day. Tonight was no exception.

“Zwei doppelte Kurze Whiskey.” (Two double shots of whiskey.) You raised two fingers at him to spell out your order.

He grunted out an acknowledgement as he got to work, filling two empty glasses with the fiery amber liquor, one glass topped up significantly more than the other.

“Macht er dir Probleme?” (Is he giving you any trouble?) He asked, without looking up from pouring the shots. It seemed like he had noticed your little commotion with Leon from just before.

“Aktuell nicht,” (Not for now.) you answered guardedly.

At this point, Leon had caught up to you, watching as the bartender placed the glass with more whiskey on the counter top in front of you and the one with less before Leon. 

Leon huffed at the slight and shook his head. “I’ll take the bottle too.”

The bartender eyed him suspiciously as he plonked the whiskey bottle on the counter loudly, like there was an unspoken competition going on between them.

“Here,” Leon mentioned coolly, sliding a couple of euro bills along the counter to pay for all the drinks. “Keep the change.”

You sighed at the childish display before you, giving the bartender an apologetic look as you took your glass without a word, and settled in at the small table you had informally reserved earlier. The people around you were far more interested in drinking than any conversation you were about to have. Occasionally a fight started, but those responsible were easily cleared out by the staff. 

There should be no issues with privacy here, you thought, as you downed your first round of drinks simultaneously with Leon.

The sharp alcohol burned your throat, warming you from the inside. You noticed Leon wincing as he brought the glass to his cut lip, finishing its contents in one clean gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Did he get hurt in the field? You wondered, but chose not to question it, instead pouring yourself another shot as Leon did likewise.

Frustrated by the ongoing silence between the two of you and Leon’s seeming reluctance to speak, you decided to break the dead air, stating sarcastically, “Anything else you need before we get started? Room service? A hot bath, perhaps?”

He threw back another shot, twisting his lips into a wry smile. “Hm, don’t tempt me.”

“Leon, what happened? All these years… I thought you had died.” You were getting tired of this game and wanted an honest exchange for once.

“I did,” he replied softly.

“Huh?”

Averting his gaze quickly, he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “It doesn’t matter.” 

But you wanted answers. You needed to know what had been haunting him too. “It does to me.”

You reached out to him cautiously, but just as your fingers ghosted the back of his hand, he moved it away, his voice turning cold as ice. “Look, I don’t know what you’re expecting, but it’s been a long time-”

His reaction took you by surprise as you interjected defensively, “Yeah, I can count.” 

A long time? If anyone should be able to comprehend that, you were more than qualified.

“I’m not the same guy you used to know back then,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard you.

“And I’m not the same girl you knew either,” you countered, in a mixture of anger and confusion. He was talking to you like he was blaming you for something. It wasn’t fair and you weren’t going to put up with it anymore. “Stop avoiding the question, Leon.”

“Still as stubborn as hell though,” he muttered.

Your blood boiled at his non-answer. “Is this some kind of joke to you?” You seethed, raising your voice. “I mourned you. The past 7 years. I heard nothing. Your parents heard nothing.” You emphasized each point, taking another shot afterwards to calm your nerves. Your face scrunched up in response to the harsh bite of the liquor. “And now this?”

He paused for a moment, fiddling with the empty glass in his hands, before hesitantly responding, “I got out of Raccoon City. Then, the government asked me to work for them.”

You caught the drift of what he was implying when he stressed the word ‘asked’, like it wasn’t by choice. But you didn’t understand what hold they had on him.

“That’s all you need to know.” Placing his glass back down on the table, he took a swig from the bottle itself this time. The few sentences he gave you had taken a toll on him.

“Why? How did they-”

“The rest is classified,” he snapped through gritted teeth, as a form of warning not to push it any further.

You slumped back in your chair in defeat, realizing that you weren’t much closer to understanding him and what he had gone through.

“Why did you join Silje’s company?” Leon questioned out of the blue, his tone filled with resentment, so much so that you bit your lip in reflex as guilt seeped into your heart.

“After you… die-disappeared, I-I didn’t know what else to do.” You cast your eyes downwards, your voice choking up with emotion as the memories you had suppressed came flooding back, like a gaping wound in your side. 

“I had to leave. Everything just-” you paused, clenching your fists so hard that you could see the imprints of your fingernails against your palms. “-reminded me of you.”

At this, his stony gaze faltered slightly and a look of despondence slowly spread across his face. 

“You could have gone anywhere else, but you just had to choose her, didn’t you?” He uttered somewhat accusingly. “You really shouldn’t get involved in this.”

“A bit too late for that,” you argued. Did he think you couldn’t hold your own?

“You can still walk away,” he offered.

Shaking your head, you peered back at him defiantly. “I’m not leaving you.”

“That’s what you said last time,” he retorted bitterly, his brows etched together in a frown. “Look at how that turned out.”

Your mouth ran dry, and it felt as if you had been given a tight slap across your cheek. 

So this was what it was all about? He still faulted you for what happened in the past? The most troubling thing was that you had nothing to say to that. You truly held yourself accountable for whatever that had gone wrong.

“Is this why you want to get rid of me?” It came out as a bare whisper.

He shrugged impassively, unable to meet your eyes like he was hiding something. “It’s just better this way.”

Your mind was going round in circles as you were put on the spot. However, something inside you kept rebelling against what Leon had to say. You couldn’t abandon him again. Not like this, even though he claimed it was the better route to take. Didn’t he once tell you to trust him to make his own decisions? Then, he should offer you the same courtesy. You weren’t about to throw in the towel and give up now.

So instead of running away like he expected you to, you pushed back. “No.”

Leon narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I said no,” you repeated again resolutely. “We have a job to do. I’m helping you to infiltrate this base whether you like it or not.”

His lips were drawn into a thin line as he brooded quietly in the corner, but he continued to hear you out.

“Once that’s done, we can go back to our own separate lives if you want,” you stated. “Just like how it was.” 

A fair compromise. Although deep down you hoped it wouldn’t mark the end of your interactions with Leon. Well, you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it.

After a while of considering your suggestion, he agreed warily, “Ok.”

His gaze was impenetrable while both of you drank in silence. At some point, you decided to call it a night, since you had an early start with him tomorrow to go over your next plan of action. It was drizzling when you came out of the bar, the water droplets falling on your face like a baptism of a new chapter. You had made your bed, now you had to lie in it.

As Leon called for another cab to take him back to where he was staying, you left without a word, walking on your own to the nearest U-Bahn station. He watched you until you were just a tiny speck in his vision, lost amongst the sea of people and glowing street lights.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Leon were standing in front of the dining table of his service apartment, a mess of papers sprawled across every surface. He rested his curled fingers under his chin, eyeing the diagrams and notes scribbled on the sheets like a hawk, analyzing them for any obvious patterns.

He picked up a report that you had drafted recently. “So Silje told you all of this?”

You yawned and sipped at the instant coffee Leon had offered you when you had arrived. It was a couple of hours earlier than when you were normally up, as you’d have to head over to the theater to train after this meeting. You had pushed away whatever thoughts you had resulting from the conversation with Leon last night to the back of your mind, in favor of professionalism. Afterall, it wasn’t your first rodeo pretending things were fine, and neither was it Leon’s.

“Some of it, yes. Though in her own way of speaking in riddles,” you explained. “The rest I had overheard or tailed her without her knowing.”

“Are you sure you weren’t spotted?” It sounded like a mixture of concern and him questioning your abilities, the latter of which irritated you a little.

“If I was, would I still be standing here?” You stated brusquely.

“Fair enough.”

You pointed at the blueprint map again, tracing the outlines of your markings with your fingers as you explained, “From what I gathered, the site has two main sections beyond the theater space. The upper levels are easily accessible, but shaped like a labyrinth. I haven’t explored everything yet, but if my gut feeling is right, I would say that the entrance leading further down might be all the way over here.” You tapped at the red circle with a question mark drawn on the map.

“The lower levels are only accessible via keycard. Obviously Silje has one, but there must be others too,” you reasoned. 

“That said, I’ve seen her bringing in the same man more than once. Business type, probably in his 60s, speaking German with a Swiss accent.” Then, you proceeded to describe his outward appearance in further detail.

“Silje always passed him off as being part of the company board. I doubt it though,” you shrugged.

Leon hummed in response, and the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward, as if he was trying to hold back a smile. It was the first sign of approval he showed you since you had reconnected.

As he thumbed through the rest of the papers, he cocked his head to the side, tapping his fingers on the table absentmindedly. “One thing I don’t get from this is why she’s confided in you.”

You nipped your lip, swallowing anxiously, as you were afraid of disclosing what you might have committed yourself to. 

“She wanted to offer me a gift,” you whispered.

“A gift?” He tensed up noticeably at the word. “Did you accept?”

“Um… yes?” You replied uneasily, but tried to persuade him that nothing else had happened yet. “She only told me it would come soon.”

The drumming of his fingers on the table stopped abruptly, as he gripped the edge of it, clenching his jaw as he spoke, “Why the fuck would you do something like that?”

“I-I thought it would help,” you stuttered, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in his mood.

“What exactly has Bergmann told you about this case?” He hissed.

“That Silje was suspected of harboring some bioterrorists.”

You flinched as he cursed a second time loudly, before muttering a quick, “Excuse me for a minute.” With that, he darted out of the room into the hallway to make a call.

So here you were, left alone without answers again. The secrecy surrounding the entire mission and Leon’s erratic behavior was starting to grate on you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.

Past the hallway, out of sight and earshot, Leon had connected with Hunnigan on comms.

“Leon,” she greeted. “Any news?”

“Our old friend, the Plaga,” he stated. “Seems like our suspicions might be right.”

“You have the source to back that up?” She asked out of habit, even though she already knew the answer.

“I went through the documents. I’m not 100%, but it’s close.”

He detailed an abnormality that stood out during the investigations. “A few days ago, some people on site experienced temporary psychotic episodes where their veins turned black, but reverted back to normal after.”

“That’s aligning with whatever intel we’ve already picked up. It could be a new strain of the Plaga,” he concluded.

Hunnigan nodded. “We’ll require a sample for the labs when you’re in the base. Anything you need me to do?”

“Run some files on any surviving Los Iluminados members. Focus on trade routes with Germany,” he requested. “The informant mentioned Silje entertaining a particular ‘business partner’ on a regular basis.”

“On it.” She typed away furiously at a computer keyboard off-screen.

“Another thing,” Leon commented. “Why wasn’t the informant told about the real nature of this situation?” 

“That was under Bergmann’s discretion.” 

He scoffed derisively. “She’s putting her in danger. The informant has no idea what she’s risking here. Silje just offered her the ‘gift’ and you and I know what that means.”

“Leon, you know the rules,” Hunnigan sighed sympathetically. “We don’t really have much say in this jurisdiction.”

“What do you mean? She reports to HQ!”

“Yeah, and they’ve given her free reign,” she explained, without batting an eyelid.

“In-fucking-credible.” He rolled his eyes.

“You need to press on. The informant has the best chance of getting you in,” she reasoned, giving pause and contemplating her next choice of words before speaking. “I would suggest not getting too attached to her.”

“I’m not,” Leon deadpanned, despite the look on Hunnigan’s face, like she didn’t believe him. 

“At the rate this is going, she may not be around long enough to do her job,” he clarified.

“You know we have a cure for that,” she rebutted. “The girl will be fine.”

He pursed his lips, changing the subject. “Hm, just send me the updates later.”

With that, he shut off his comms device and headed back into the living room, only to be accosted by your snide remark, “Let me guess, another convo that’s classified?”

His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Not quite.”

“Whatever Bergmann has been feeding you is bullshit,” he began. “We’ve been suspecting that the theater is being used as a front for developing a new batch of bioweapons they’re about to ship into the US.”

Your eyes widened at the newfound information. The whole time you had assumed that Silje was just providing a safehouse, not a full-on experimentation chamber. But with the recent events that had occurred, you should have considered it earlier.

“So the labs must be underground.” He thumped the pad of his index finger on the sketchings of the lower levels of the site on the map. “And they’re not just hiding people down there.”

Casting over a solemn glance, he revealed, “I’m telling you this, because you need to be careful.”

“And stop making deals you shouldn’t be making,” he warned.

You let the words sink in. “I see,” you nodded slowly. “Thanks, I… appreciate that.”

“The minute you feel something is off, or your veins start to darken, you contact me straight away and get the hell outta there. Understood?”

“Ok, I will,” you promised.

On the one hand, you were grateful that Leon had the courtesy to inform you about what you were getting into, but on the other, you were scared of what was to come. You had heard about the Terragrigia Panic and the B.O.W.s that devastated the floating city a year ago. The gruesome scenes were splashed across the news for weeks. Would the same happen here?

As if he could read your mind, Leon placed a hand on your shoulder to reassure you. “I won’t let them get you.”

“I trust you.” You said it as if it was clear as day.

His eyes bore into yours and his hand made its way towards your cheek, but stopped short in midair, a hair’s breadth away from touching your skin. Then, it fell to the side as he turned away, like he was ashamed of what had just transpired.

You cleared your throat in awkwardness, trying to recall the next point on the meeting agenda. Ah yes, Till.

Till was a fence you got to know from the parties you frequented. He was a friend of a friend of a… you got the idea. At first, you bought your drugs from his minions in the clubs, but then became a regular client of his the moment you started your informant career.

“As requested, I’ve arranged a meeting with Till.” You grabbed your day bag from the seat you had left it on. “He operates out of a nightclub that has a pretty strict door policy. So you’ll have to look the part.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “Which would be?”

You sighed, unsure of how this would go down. “Um, your usual black get-up will do,” you mentioned tentatively. Unzipping your bag, which unveiled a sneak peek of its contents, you peered back at him. Here goes nothing. “So are you a more of a latex or leather kind of guy?”

What you would have given to permanently capture the look of shock on Leon’s face.

“Are you fucking serious?” He blurted out.

Perhaps you should make the decision for him then. Giving him a once over, you identified a common theme with his casual leather jacket and fingerless gloves. 

“I’m guessing leather,” you discerned, rummaging through your bag for a studded harness and tossing it over to him.

He caught the chunky material in his hands, looking at it with apprehension whilst shaking his head.

Fishing out a translucent, black crop top, you displayed it in front of Leon as you walked over to him. “Maybe over this and a pair of leather boxers.”

He grimaced. “No.”

Well, he sure wasn’t making your job easy. “I’ll be doing most of the ass-kissing at the door,” you argued. “You just have to wear this and keep your mouth shut.”

Please go along with it, you prayed. There was only so much magic you could pull to get him in at the club door.

Examining the outfit you had picked out for him gingerly, he muttered, “Jesus Christ, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

At least he wasn’t protesting any further.

“I’ll meet you there at 4 in the morning on Sunday,” you reminded him. “You’d better have something substantial to trade with.”

“That’s the least of my concerns right now,” he grumbled, to which you snickered in amusement before departing for the theater.

[xxx-angie]

"just tonight"

radioapple nightmares, comfort

677 words

read on ao3

@lucifersruberduck

“…stor? alastor?”

the red-haired demon blinks open his eyes, being greeted by a white face with rosy red cheeks.

“what are you doing in my room?”

lucifer takes a step back. “s-sorry to intrude i… i just don’t want to be alone right now and wasn’t sure who else to go to…”

alastor sits up, rubbing at his eyes. “what do you need?”

“just… to not be alone…” he looks down at the floor. “c-could i sleep in your bed?”

the radio demon looks at him before letting out a sigh. “fine. just tonight though.”

“thank you…” he gets into the bed next to alastor. the darker rolls over onto his back and closes his eyes. but then he feels something press up against him and looks down to see short male snuggled into his side.

“what are you-”

his shirt was wet. lucifer was crying.

what would charlie do?

he awkwardly reached and put his arm over the demon king. “d-do you want to talk about it?”

“nightmares… been- been having them since… i fell…” the pale demon grips onto alastor's shirt. “they get worse when it comes to the anniversary of that…” he further presses into his chest. “i used to have lilith to help me get through them but…”

“my mother would sing to me whenever i had a nightmare. do you think that might help, sir?” the sinner gently runs a hand through the king's hair, who nods.

alastor sits up and has the pale demon lay his head on his lap. he resumes with stroking his hair and begins to softly sing in broken creole. he looks down at him, watching as his red and gold eyes begin to close as he reaches for alastor’s free hand.

the radio demon softly rubs his thumb over the back of lucifer’s hand and lightly squeezes it.

by the time he is done with the song, he can feel that the king’s breathing has slowed and his hold has loosened. the darker lays back down and gently pulls lucifer up beside him. he continues to gently play with his hair as he feels his own mind drift off to sleep.

alastor wakes up a bit late the next morning and sits up. he stretches and gets up, then notices the plate of bacon and eggs with a cup of coffee on his table. he looks back to the bed, seeing lucifer is no longer there, before grabbing the plate and sitting down. a thank you card laid under the plate, a little sticker of a duck beside the signature.

he looks at the note as he eats, a genuine smile finding its way onto his face.

when he’s done he leaves his room and goes about his day with the hotel.

alastor stays up a bit late this time, not getting back to his room until nearly midnight. he walks in and starts to change when he hears a whimper from his bed.

he approaches his bed and notices the blonde hair of lucifer. who was almost entirely covered by the blankets, and it felt almost like he was trying to hide under them. his eyes were squeezed shut and he kept mumbling.

the radio demon frowned a bit and he bent down. he places a hand on his arm and softly shakes the pale male. then lucifer sits straight up and hugs tight onto alastor, surprising the sinner. the taller picks the other up and sits down with him on his lap. as he did last night, he begins to sing to the king.

it takes a couple runs of the song but the demon king finally calms down enough to stop crying. he looks up at the demon holding him and mumbles “sorry.” to him. “i uh… i know it was supposed to be just last night but… you helped…” he looks down. “i was waiting for you but… then i fell asleep…” he laughs weakly.

“as i saw.” alastor pats his head. “it's alright… you can come by any time…”

“really?”

“sure.”

ran out of words oops

[yawujin]

Hi there you're really cool (shuichi is great). If you wouldn't mind writing v3 boys x reader that dyes their hair a lot (wild colors each time)

Example: one week the reader has one hair color than a couple weeks later oop a different color.

Little bonus: the reader forgets to dye their hair and their roots grow back their natural hair color

I hope this made sense it's really late

Thank you

:3

okay ramona flowers i see you lmao

request | how the v3 boys would react to reader that dyes their hair often

type | react , light hearted , non killing game , gender neutral reader

shuichi saihara ♡

instantly but silently notices each time you do so

doesn't comment on it until you ask him if he likes the color of the week

ofc he does

"any reason in particular why you dye it so often?" he asks one day

you explain to him that you just enjoy it and that it's for fun

hmm would you want to dye your hair shuichi?

he raises his brows, surprised you'd ask him

"i'd try anything once so, i suppose!"

you two agree that he'll try it if you're the one dyeing his hair

rantaro amami ♡

unlike shuichi, he comments on it right away, sounding rather impressed

"well now, if it isn't the ultimate hairdresser~" he jokes

no seriously, where on earth do you find the time to dye your hair

he has certain colors he favors over others

especially on you

offers to paint your nails to match whatever color you have on your hair at that time

K1B0/kiibo ♡

omfg he's kinda jealous

he wishes he could also dye his hair but the chemicals in the dye would surely mess with the metal

you offer to get him wigs with different colors (and you know exactly where to get them from cough *tsumugi* cough)

he just laughs and says it's fine

adores each and every color on you

he's your go-to if you want to search for products that prevent damage from a lot of dyeing!

korekiyo shinguji ♡

would definitely bring up his research about how ancient peoples used to dye their hair using various things

like how vikings used to dye their hair blond using wood ash soap

hehe

anyway

he would also help you maintain it by offering to assist you in getting the dye in harder to reach places

like the very back of your head lol

offers to brush your hair after

"no matter what color you choose...you always look perfect."

kaito momota ♡

he never gets used to seeing you with a new hair color so often

everytime you greet him he's like

"again!?" and another two weeks go by

you have a brand new color

"AGAIN!?"

he doesn't hate it though, he finds it interesting

he really likes pastel blue on you

reminds him of neptune :)

gonta gokuhara ♡

he asks you about it

"why (Y/N) hair change so much?"

so you explain

you can practically see a lightbulb flash bright over gonta's head

"ah! gonta see..."

he really likes it

always asks ahead of time which color you are planning to dye your hair next

"gonta want to see if he can find bug to match (Y/N)'s hair!"

he'd then show you a beautiful orchid mantis which matched your baby pink hair

ryoma hoshi ♡

makes it a point to compliment you if you dyed your hair multi-colored

lowkey wants to you see you do the calico cat hair trend

offers one of his beanies to you if you feel embarrassed that you forgot to dye your hair and your roots begin to show

he thinks your natural hair color is cute though

maybe one day he'll get to see you with no hair dye at all (?)

kokichi ouma ♡

the first to notice that your roots are showing

he announces it aloud for all to hear

SHHHHH

he's just messing with you ofc

insists to everyone that you are a copycat when you decide to dye it purple

he really likes it when you dye it red

it just does it for him

winkk

[fuxuannie]

cure my sadness from ur fic with miles morales x filo reader, make it happy this time:(

↳ pairing : miles morales x (filo) g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : the universe where it worked out.

↳ authors note : I made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgement, and I don’t expect to be forgiven. I’m simply here to apologize. (/j) HI EVERYONE!! the life you all deserved to have in that one filo miles fic :)

"Gago! Wag mo ako i-kiss!" You say inbetween laughs, trying to push Miles away as his lips are coated with chocolate all while he laughs at your misery.

Today was a really special day for the both of you, specifically marking the second year of you two dating and you couldn't have been happier. Miles was an amazing boyfriend, and within those two years you both learned a lot about each other. He was able to reveal his identity to you, (which of course caused a lot of worry and problems, however easily solved within a lot of talking and conversations) his past adventures and much more.

And although your life isn't as daring as his, it's always fun to be able to hangout with your boyfriend and have him learn a little bit of your language so you two could communicate better.

You even got to meet Gwen, and was able to know the history between Miles and her from the past. Though with reassurance from her that she's long moved on from him, and so has he with her.

Now you're both here in your apartment, trying to bake a cake for your anniversary when someone gets distracted."

"What? My love doesn't want to kiss me?" He'll tease, finally getting a kiss onto your cheek as you let out an exaggerated gasp. "Hmph. Sorry na ganito talaga nadiscover mo yung truth." You play along, wiping off the chocolate as Miles goes quiet.

"Wait, I was kidding-" You stammered, your hands immediately leaving his chest. But it's far too late when you see the smirk on his face, you don't even realize how you've fallen into a trap until a hand grabs your wrists and holds them together.

"Wait..!-"

You can't even get another word out until you feel the familiar sensation of kisses all over your face, "Miles!" You exclaimed, but your pleas go into deaf ears as he continues to kiss you with giggles drowning out your voice.

After a few seconds of just kissing, he finally pulls away and he has the most cocky and proud smirk he's ever worn on that pretty face of his.

"You happy?" You pout, trying to hide your own amusement as it's easy for him to to see right through you. "Very."

"Now can we start to actually bake?"

Miles chuckles while nodding, letting go of you as he had to grab a bag of flour and you had to wipe off the chocolate on your face.

You don't even take your eyes off him for a minute when you hear something tear and an 'Oops' from Miles.

While turning around you're greeted with the sight of flour on the counter, on his feet and all over his face. You're about to laugh until you hear; "Don't. Not. A. Word."

That alone makes you burst into laughter, pointing at his flour filled apron as you're well aware he has to clean up the mess.

"You know what- come here!"

"Noooo! Don't hug me when you're literally a mess! Take a shower!"

You'd never imagine a life without Miles in it, he brings so much light in your days and there seems to be nothing in this world that could tear you two apart.

And against your better judgement, you pause and turn to see how far he was from you.

He's already caught up, arms wide open to grab you into his (flour filled and) loving embrace.

"I love youu~"

And despite the two messes he's managed to make of you, you softly reply;

"I love you too."

[prettylittlels]

He (Tom Blyth part 2)

summary: the stranger strikes again! is it fate or is it just coincidence?

Being late for my 20th century literature class was not in my plans, but I certainly wanted to stay in the comfort of my warm, cozy bed. I contemplate whether I should go to college today, my mind doesn't really care, and it leads me to think of him again. Why does he continue to haunt my dreams if I know I will never see him again in my life?

The phone rings. My breath slows down as I see an email informing me that Mr. Karinsky, who is responsible for giving literature lecture, was unable to attend the faculty today, and his substitute will be in charge. The class is rescheduled for nine-thirty in the morning. My watch reads eleven past eight. I rub my eyes to wake myself up and sit up in bed.

When I walk into Angelina's it's already ten past nine, plenty of time for a drink. At the cash register I am greeted by a teenager who looked like she lacked a good night's sleep. I ask for a latte.

- Name? - she asks, eyeing me up and down

- Y/N - I tell her -

- Y/N? -

- Yes - I hastily add - If you can do it quickly, I'd appreciate it -

She angrily puts the plastic cup on the table and smiles at me sarcastically.

- How much is it? - I ask, taking out my wallet

- Ten dollars -

- On the sign - I point to the top of her head - it says five.

- Oops,- she grins wickedly, - We forgot to update the prices -

Now it's my turn to laugh. Ten dollars for a coffee, yeah, right. I grab the bills from my wallet but someone else leans the cash against the table before me.

Danice, please - a man asks her lovingly - Charge her five and give me another one too, okay? -

NO. NO, NO, NO, NO! Him again.

Danice smiles at him as she takes out another plastic cup and writes something illegible.

- Of course, sweetheart -

Sweetheart? I turn her head to look at him in the eye and he's gone. What just happened?

- Sorry for the inconvenience, miss - he says as he looks up - Ah! - he laughs - It's you!

- Yes, thank you - I manage to answer - again -

- No problem- he offers me his hand - My name is Tom. Nice to meet you -

I take his hand - Is it possible that everything about this man is perfect? His hands, soft as a baby's; his manners, those of an English monarch. The suit he was wearing today, an icy blue like his eyes, pressed to excellence.

-I'm Y/N - I informed him - Y/N Y/LN-

-Beautiful name for a beautiful woman - he says happily - It's as if an invisible string unites us and makes us meet again, isn't it? -

I am stupefied, however I try not to look like a fool, and I look at my watch. I'm late.

-Yes, yes. Sorry Mr. Tom, but I'm late for class - I yell at him as I'm backing up to the door - Nice talking to you! -

- Wait! - he follows me - do you know how to get to the Williams Center? -

-Uhh - shit, it's part of my university campus - Yeah, I study there -

-Fantastic, let me come with you - he says cheerfully - I have to give an audition there and I don't know how to get to it, do you mind? -

Oh, God.

[jishyucks]

Gift Wrapping is a Serious Matter — hjs

‣ pairing: han jisung x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, crack?

‣ wc: 3.6k

‣ summary: In all honesty, you had no idea why you decided to take up the job of gift wrapping at your local mall. There are moms constantly yelling at you, your fingers are covered in papercuts, and the hours are long. Luckily, your coworker, Jisung, is there to make it more bearable.

‣ warnings: some sexual jokes/innuendos, attempt at being funny, honestly this is just the pair being goofy at work, I thought it was gonna be mostly cute but it’s more just (attempted) crack

‣ an: oop late post but it’s okay ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ I wanted this to be cuter but I’m limiting my stuff to like 4k words to each one unless I seriously can’t. Anyways, enjoy!!

Series Masterlist

“Finally! Took you long enough!” 

Jeongin drops what he’s doing, throwing his hands up in some sort of exaggerated exasperation. 

“Jeongin. I’m literally five minutes early.” You can’t help but situate yourself at the side of the counter that lifts open, blinking at the boy. You greet Choi Beomgyu, another worker, who’s in the middle of making a present look pretty with ribbons. 

“I know, but you being here reminds me that I can finally leave and you’re stuck here for the next six hours, ha-ha,” Jeongin rubs the fact in your face as he multitasks, finishing the present he was currently working on. 

“And what happens if I leave?” You lift the counter and quickly slip under it. You blindly stick your hand into your tote bag to pull out your Santa hat, plopping it onto the counter before turning to grab one of the four vests hanging underneath the tabletop. 

“Then you’d be leaving Jisung Hyung alone, and I know you wouldn’t do that.” Your eyes widen at the mention of Jisung and you shoot Jeongin a glare equal to a warning. You quickly look to see if Beomgyu heard anything and you’re thankful that he’s still very much focused on the present he’s wrapping. 

“Yang Jeongin shut your mouth right now!” You shout quietly. Jeongin only knows of your crush on Jisung because the shift that day was slow and Jeongin had managed to fish a confession out of you. 

“Do I lie?”

You groan. Because, no, Jeongin was not lying. With all the shit you have to manage at this booth, you couldn't possibly leave Jisung or anyone else alone to handle the booth. This gig was a team task. Yelling moms? You needed that backup. Oh, you’re going to be tying a bow? Let me put my finger here to hold it down. Hell, even if you hated Jisung, you could never leave the boy alone to manage the gift-wrapping booth on his own. 

Besides, you liked spending time with Jisung and you were still too afraid to ask him to hang out outside of working hours. 

“Lie about what?” 

Speaking of the boy, Jisung enters the scene still bundled up in his big puffer coat, scarf, and chunky beanie. He’s peeking between his winter garments, blinking between you and Jeongin. 

“Oh, nothing,” Jeongin shrugs. At this point, he’s finished wrapping the present and he’s attaching a label to it for the owner to know which one it was. 

Jisung shrugs it off and he slides a drink tray with two large coffee cups, “I got us hot chocolate.” He pulls down his scarf, revealing a red nose (which you guess had resulted from the cold) and a wide grin. 

“Thank you so much, Ji,” you gasp, “Let me put my stuff away and I’ll grab mine.” 

Jisung nods and busies himself with his coat and toque. While he was at it, Jeongin managed to tease you. “Thank you so much, Ji!” 

He instantly earns an elbow to the gut, “You’re just jealous you didn’t get one.” 

“Why would I be jealous when I can go get myself one right now?” Jeongin laughs, “Because I’m not gonna be here for the next six hours…” He’s putting his vest away and grabbing his things. Instead of lifting the countertop to leave, he hops over it coolly.

You shoot him one last look, “Yeah, yeah. Now leave. You’re basically loitering.” 

“I have to wait for Gyu,” Jeongin points at Beomgyu who was now following in pursuit, “Wanna get some hot chocolate before we leave?”  

Beomgyu nods, “Please.” The boy quickly throws on his jacket and grips a beanie and his mitts in one hand. Jisung enters the booth when Beomgyu leaves, almost taking out the younger boy with his backpack on the way in. 

“Why is your backpack ginormous?” you stifle a laugh, gathering the presents that Jeongin and Beomgyu had left. The two leave, wishing you guys a good luck. “Have one of Santa’s elves in there or something to help us?” You’re obviously joking, but the child in you is hoping that an elf would truly jump out of Jisung’s bag to offer assistance. 

“I wish,” Jisung laughs. He grabs one of the vests and slips it on, “I went to the gym so my gym stuff is in here.” Zipping it open, he pulls out his own Santa hat and tugs it onto his head. The hat pushes his bangs lower over his eyes and you feel your heart jump at how utterly cute he looks. 

“Makes sense,” you reply coolly. You continue to organize the wrapped presents, plopping them into bags for the owners when they return. 

Without hesitation, Jisung quickly takes a sip of his hot chocolate before he moves to help you organize the wrapped presents into bags. You two do it with ease, having developed a routine over the past few weeks. 

When you first met Jisung, he had introduced himself as a student, gym rat, and part-time cashier at a nearby grocery store, opting to take up this job to try something new since it was a seasonal job. You remember not exactly knowing how to react to his introduction, blinking at him for a few, very brief moments before you introduce yourself. 

But when Jisung continued to speak to you, it was rather easy for you to figure out that his dorky introduction was the tip of the iceberg when it came to his personality. He spoke about anything and everything with a sense of child-like wonder, interacted with customers like he’d known them for years, and wrapped their presents like they were to be given to the Royal Family. 

And though, initially, you weren’t exactly looking forward to having your ear being talked off by him each shift, especially since you found the act of wrapping presents relaxing, you found that being talkative was a big part of his charm. Because of him, the long, dreadful hours flew past like nothing—hell, before you knew it, you were actually looking forward to the shifts despite how much you complained about it every morning. 

You suppose this was how you had developed feelings for the boy. Not only was he sweet and apparently good at everything he tried, he was easy and comfortable to be around. 

And for you, that was rare. 

As all shifts go, you both fall into a comfortable rhythm, chatting about random things to pass the time. Somehow you both were lucky enough to not have the big rush of customers that dropped by the mall on the way home from work, still recovering from the rushes last week with customers who pushed for an amount of wrapped presents that seemed to be enough to give to everyone and their mothers. 

You and Jisung were simply given smaller gifts, maybe a bigger box here and there, but most of the presents you were asked to wrap were small and easy, ones that didn’t even take longer than 5 minutes. Considering it was the 21st, it seemed logical that people were buying for quick, last-minute purchases. 

“The amount of old people who buy lube is…” Jisung gags. He had just finished a string of stories about how he’s judged customers based on what they buy and this was how he was choosing to conclude it. Your jaw drops as he looks back at you with a pained expression, “Like I mean, good for them but, the amount of old people, you know?” 

“I mean… ‘tis the season?” You're unsure whether to laugh or gag, “I guess they���re trying to keep the holiday season spicy or something.” You rip a piece of tape from the dispenser, finishing off one of the last presents from a small group given to the booth. 

“Y/N!” Jisung gasps.

“What?” You retort, “You’re the one who brought it up.” You attach a label of the object to the box and place it in a bag that is sitting between you and Jisung. 

“I know, but you’re giving me the image of old people…” He shudders, the bell on his Santa hat jingling, “Okay, okay we need to stop talking about lube and old people.” Jisung finishes his own present and plops it next to your finished present.

You snort, moving on to the next present in the pile and physically cringe at it, “Can you believe people are giving other people lingerie? Let alone make other people wrap it? I don’t even think I should be touching this right now.” Lingerie itself wasn’t the problem here, it was the fact that you knew who gave this to you to wrap and it felt fucking weird for you to be wrapping it.

“It’s not like it’s used,” Jisung points out, gesturing to a tag hanging off of the garment. The set you were working on was the last present for the meantime so Jisung had time to kill, “Touch it all you want.” 

You elbow him, “How about you do it then.” You toss it into his hands and he jumps back, a yelp escaping his lips. His voice echoes across your part of the mall, catching the attention of shoppers strolling past. You clamp your mouth shut to keep yourself from childishly laughing out loud, eyes glossy from holding it back. 

“I–” Jisung gawks at you with a slack jaw and wide eyes, “I can’t believe you just did that!” 

You can't hold back the laughter any longer, and it bursts out of you, drawing more curious glances from passersby, “If you have no problem touching it then go ahead and wrap it.” 

He groans, “Fine.” Jisung steps up and whips out a gift bag, wrapping the lingerie set with tissue paper before plopping it in. Then, he decoratively sticks in more tissue paper to conceal the intimates. When he finishes, he labels it and pushes it in your direction. 

“Thank you,” you say, still recovering from what just happened. You quickly store the present with the others, tucking it beneath the tabletop. “I still honestly don’t understand that… why couldn’t that man just give jewelry or something? A necklace or earrings for a woman is always a safe bet.”

Jisung presses his lips together and he hums, recalling how you said necklaces or earrings were always at the top of your wishlist, simply because you could never get enough of them. “What if she wanted it though?” 

“To each their own,” you shrug, “But making us wrap it?” The lingerie set wasn’t the oddest present you both had to wrap, but it’s been a good week and a half since the last one. 

“That’s fair, I guess,” Jisung snickers, “We’re like, partaking in their–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you throw a hand over Jisung’s mouth and give him a look of warning. Jisung opens his mouth to speak but you take your thumb and push his chin up to shut it back closed. 

“Ow!” 

“I barely did shit, Ji, don’t be dramatic.” You pat his cheek when you let go of his mouth and he frowns, “You made me bite my tongue.”

“Gross, were you going to lick my hand!?” You look at him with knitted brows and wide eyes, wondering how the hell you even developed feelings for this boy. 

“No?” It comes out more like a question and a sheepish smile on his face indicates that he was lying through his teeth, “Your hand was covering my mouth!”

“You could have just physically moved my arm away from your mouth!” You counter, throwing a soft punch at his arm. 

“You’re mean.” 

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’r–”

“Ahem!” 

You two don’t notice that a customer is standing and waiting for you both to notice her, not a hint of Christmas joy in her eyes. Although you don’t see her feet through the booth, you can tell that she is tapping her foot out of impatience. 

“Oh, we apologize ma’am,” Jisung speaks up, taking a step forward, “How may we help you?” 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Taking your dinner break towards the end of the shift, you leave Jisung alone to manage the booth alone. You waited until it became evident that no more customers were expected to come with an overwhelming number of presents. After being away for a brief thirty minutes, you found Jisung snugly seated on the little step stool tucked away in the corner of the booth.

“Any presents?” you questioned. You shuffle under the gate and scan the inside of the stall, only finding the presents that the two of you had wrapped beforehand. 

“Just that,” Jisung points to a small, hexagonal-shaped box sitting by itself next to the bags of other presents, “But that’s it.” He leans his head back, resting it against the counter’s edge before he closes his eyes, “Man I just want to go home.” 

“One hour to go,” you sing, “Then we can leave.” You huff and scan the area of the mall that surrounded the booth, noticing that there were already a lot fewer people shopping compared to earlier, “Are you bussing again today?” 

You turn your head to look at him, eyes still shut and resting. You couldn’t help but peer at his bottom-heavy set of lips and the way his two front teeth peek out between them... and the way his lashes tickle part of his cheekbones. 

You wonder if Han Jisung knew how pretty his features were. 

“Yeah,” Jisung hums, “You?” 

You answer, “Mmhmm.” And although you and Jisung didn’t take the same bus home, you were still happy to hear that you weren’t going to be waiting alone in the cold for the bus. 

The remaining customers who visited the stall were those who were there to pick up the presents you both wrapped, which were easy one-and-done interactions. 

As the clock ticked down, you and Jisung found yourselves in a comfortable silence, a shift from your usual banter. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but rather a tired one, both of you ready to finish the day and head home. Interacting with tens of different people was exhausting. 

But despite your excitement to actually head home to snuggle up on your couch, your eyes were still flickering back and forth between the mall corridor and the hexagonal box now sitting alone. You go to pick it up, placing it on the tabletop. “Did you get the number for this customer’s gift? Why haven’t they picked it up yet?”

Jisung blinked at the box, sliding it his way, inspecting it as if he had written a name or number on the wrapping paper, “I’m honestly not sure.” “It looks like it’s important,” you frown.

“I’m sure they’ll be back tomorrow if not today,” Jisung grins. He sits the box back down gently and stands almost shoulder to shoulder next to you. 

You hope he’s right because it was odd thinking someone had dropped a present off and didn’t pick it up. Hell, the gift was so small that the owner could have just waited for it to be wrapped. 

When the final hour passed, you both swiftly closed up the booth, tidying up the wrapping paper, tape dispensers, and tags. The box still sat in the same spot that Jisung placed it in. He takes it, “I’ll put this somewhere safe for tomorrow.” 

All you did was nod.

Jisung yawned, his energy visibly drained from the day's work. He picks his bag up after bundling himself up with his winter jacket and scarf. It almost weighs him down, but he regains balance with a shuffle of his feet. 

“Well, that's a wrap,” you say, attempting a pun to lighten the mood. Jisung manages a tired chuckle, rolling his eyes and appreciating the effort. The clattering of shutters from other stores rumble throughout the mall and it’s another indication that the shift was finished. 

“Finally,” he sighs, stretching his arms above his head, “Let's get out of here.”

Exiting the booth together, you and Jisung head towards the exit closest to the bus stop. It wasn’t snowing or windy, but you could predict that the air was going to be cold, so you brace yourself by hiking the collar of your jacket up over your nose.

When you and Jisung slip out through the doors, you immediately feel the chilly evening air biting at the exposed skin on your faces, an aching contrast to the warmth of the mall. Your pockets do nothing to keep your hands warm, feeling air that managed to slip into your pockets. 

“Fuck,” Jisung’s teeth rattle, “Fuck, it’s cold.” His shoulders rise to his ears, his body attempting to keep itself warm. In other circumstances, you would have answered Jisung with something sarcastic like ‘No shit, Sherlock’ or ‘Wait? Really?’, but you were freezing your ass off right now. 

It was so cold that you two couldn’t even talk on the way to the bus stop, legs and feet moving quickly to get there. You could feel your lashes stiffening from the cool air, previously moist from the way your eyes had slightly welled up from the slap of cold to your face. You want the bus to come right now and quickly, but last time you checked, it wasn’t coming for another 10 minutes. 

As you wait for your buses, you steal glances at Jisung, thoughts still occupied with that seemingly abandoned hexagonal box. Your breath forms small clouds in the frigid air as you try to shake off the cold, eyes flickering between the dimly lit bus stop sign and Jisung's bundled figure.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice is muffled by his thick scarf, almost sounding like you were imagining it. But the way his eyes blink back at you, you know he really was talking to you. 

“Yeah?” You push your hands deeper into your pockets, seriously regretting not bringing thicker gloves. You need to turn your entire body to look at him, the brim of your toque falling just over your brows. 

You silently watch as Jisung slips his bag off his shoulder, sticking his arm in to pull something out. He rummages for a little bit, pushing things aside before he finally finds what he is searching for. Watching in anticipation, you wait for him to reveal whatever it was.

Jisung’s hands open to present the hexagonal box, still neatly wrapped in the booth’s paper, and he pushes it toward you, holding it out.

Your heart skips a beat, “Jisung, why do you have that? I don’t think we’re allowed to bri—”

Jisung shakes his head and he inches closer, still holding the box out for you to take, “Merry Christmas?” 

You try to process what is going on, shifting your gaze between the box and Jisung’s eyes, “Wait so…” You gently pick the box up from his hand and then look back up at him, “This is for me?” 

The man in front of you nods, “From me.”

The cold air nipping at your fingertips has been long forgotten, “I’m still confused, Ji.”

“Open it,” Jisung says, “I hope you like it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Does it look like I care?” Jisung counters, “Open it.”

Your eyes glance up and behind Jisung, making sure that the bus is not on its way to the stop before your fingers begin fumbling with the wrapping paper. The ripping of the wrap fills the silence between you and Jisung, your eyes trained on what was sitting beneath it. 

The box is black with faux leather. Nothing on it indicates what it was. No brand name or anything. But when you shake it, the box rattles in the slightest, indicating something small inside. 

After crumpling the wrapping paper up into your fist, you go to open the lid of the box and set your eyes on a dainty, gold necklace. The pendant was a simple gold heart, no larger than the tip of your index finger, something you’d definitely pick out for yourself.

“Jisung…” you whisper, running the pad of your thumb over the heart, “You didn’t have to get me this… it’s beautiful, but you didn’t need to get me this.” Your arms stretch out to return the shiny necklace back to him, shaking your head. 

“I wanted to,” Jisung declares, “I saw it at the jewelry shop near my gym and thought you’d like it.” 

“I do…” you nod, “Thank you, Ji.” You retract your arms and almost cradle the box in your arms, too lazy to put it into your bag, “I promise you I’ll get you a present too… to say thank you.” Behind him, you can see one of your buses from afar, slowly advancing on the icy roads. You feel a sense of relief when you see it’s your bus, already imagining the warmth the vehicle holds inside. 

“Scratch that thought,” Jisung notices your bus pulling up, too, so he knows he needs to make this quick, “There’s something else you could do to say thank you.”

“What is it?” 

“A date with me?” 

Your eyes narrow and you can’t help but throw a soft punch at his arm, “Han Jisung, is this seriously how you’re asking me out on a date? By wooing me with a necklace?” 

Jisung rubs the spot of contact and he groans, “No?”

“Cause I’d say that it’s a little bit cute…” you grin shyly. 

“Well in that case, yes.” You can hear the smile in Jisung’s voice and you roll your eyes. Of course, this was his plan all along. But you still admit to yourself that it really was cute. 

Your bus finally arrives and halts to a stop right in front of you and Jisung. The driver opens the door and your stiff, frozen joints move you up to get into the vehicle. But before you get on, you quickly turn to Jisung, who’s still waiting for an answer. 

“A date it is then.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: finally got around to finishing this bc I rly didn't think I'd be this busy but it is what it is,,, hope you enjoyed this! up next is Jake!

[cybrpwup]

ʟᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ || ʙɪɢᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tanner x f!reader

content warnings; kinda rushed and bad summary; Y/n misses Tanner Requested?; Yes ! ↳ “I would love tanner with prompt 21”

Lone nights on her own till the early hours of the morning was how Y/n usually spent the nights; waiting for her boyfriend, Tanner, to end stream and come sleep with her.

To avoid having to sleep alone, she would always make an effort to remain awake for as long as she could.

She smiled as she heard him laughing in the distance down the hall, the same chuckle that she had fallen in love with. Tanner had streamed for longer than normal on this particular night. Before this one, she had many nights where she slept very little, but she still struggled to keep her eyelids open.

Tanner used to join the girl in her bed after his stream to fall asleep with her, but recently he'd been sleeping in his own bed by himself.

She never bothered Tanner about it because she knew he was grateful to have a girlfriend who recognized that working late hours was a necessary part of his job. even if she was bothered by it.

She was honestly tired of having to spend so much time alone and would have been in the room with Tanner if they weren't attempting to keep their relationship a secret, even though people already suspected it.

She yawned as she got up from her bed, her eyes hazy from yawning nonstop, and made her way to her boyfriend's room.

She knew that his door was in view of his camera but didn't quite care for her appearance at the time. She was donning one of Tanner's hoodies, which appeared to be all she was sporting lately.

The door opened gradually. Tanner heard and turned to face the door while removing one side of his headphones, "I'm still streaming-" he hid the panic in his voice, acting like his usual goofy self.

He watched as the girl walked over to him, leaning on his chair, "I know. I'm tired of keeping us a secret, I'm tired of falling asleep alone" Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke in a low volume so that only he could hear her, and she scowled at herself for it.

“Alright, you wanna sit?”

She nodded.

Tanner, without hesitation, grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap, "you look tired, you should sleep soon."

She ignored the comment and looked to his chat, some welcoming the girl and some freaking out about their interaction

“You know, there are rumors about us,” With Tanners hand in her palms and her eyes glued to the chat, Y/n laughed.

“I know,” He placed a kiss to her neck, “I spread them.”

If it wasn't clear enough, that action announced to the world that the two were a couple.

She knew her face was a bright red, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, another wave of fatigue washed over her.

She thought it was cute that she could tell he had toned down his voice to let her sleep. On occasion, he would rub her back or run his fingertips through her hair.

—

baby?" The girl was awakened from her sleep when she heard Tanner's soft voice: it was a straightforward name, but hearing it from him always gave her butterflies. It sounded as if he had been repeating it multiple times.

"hmm?" She hummed in response, forgetting where she’d fallen asleep.

"it's time to get into bed now, up" He was gently rubbing the younger back. She whimpered indignantly in protest, "carry me"

he let out a sigh, "The bed isn't even far from here".

She wasn’t listening and had already entwined her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, "now go" her voice was muffled due to her head still being buried in his neck, her voice vibrating against him.

He held her tenderly as he slowly stood up and walked the short distance to his bed. He attempted to put her down on the bed as gently as he could, but that fails,— possibly on purpose — and he quite literally drops and falls on top of her.

"Tanner!" When she eventually opened her eyes, Tanner's stupid, smug face greeted her. "Oops," he chuckled.

He was given a peck on the lips as she arched her brows at him and cupped his face in her hands. "Goodnight." He kissed her again as she giggled, encircling her in his arms, and pulled her back into his chest so she could be little spoon.

"goodnight, baby"

"goodnight"

[postwarlevi]

Firefighter

Content: HC format of volunteer firefighter Jean and reader meeting and becoming a couple! 2.1k words oops that was a lot please enjoy!

a/n- Inspired by a self ship idea and heeeere's the amazing artwork by @charlotteplsdosth that also helped inspired this story by the amazing thank you so much!

--------------

Jean has been doing odd jobs while getting his associate degree in business. He isn't sure exactly what he wants to pursue after that. His best friend and classmate Marco talks about volunteering and they both take a day to go to the local fire department.

They talk to the captain of the station and are given instructions and a massive packet of papers to go through of all the requirements.

Jean looks it over for a few days, seeing there's written and physical exams, courses that equal over 400 hours total that include things like basic knowledge of health and safety, search and rescue, water and hoses, being CPR trained, and things he never thought of like understanding building construction for getting people out, and also being a trained paramedic and learning to use SCUBA gear, among other things.

After a week of thinking it over both he and Marco put in their applications and get started, and they are busier then ever.

Jean is exhausted and determined and somehow finds time to fit everything in and in a couple months he and Marco join the station and continue the last bit of their training on the job, both passing with flying colors and in six months total join the team.

They don't get paid much as it's volunteer work but they find they love it. Most days are quiet or it's non emergency calls that can easily be handled.

Jean quietly has a mini breakdown one day though after the team is unable to salvage a family home that went up in flames. The people are okay but they lost all their things.

The station holds a town fundraiser to help them get on their feet again, and Jean and Marco are leading the way, wanting to continue their work.

After a year, they both sign up for another year and Jean is entering the the second year of his degree.

It's a quiet day at the station when Marco on dispatch gets a call from a frantic woman about a cat stuck in a tree.

He goes to say this isn't something they can really send someone out for but since it's a slow day, Jean motions to him it's okay, and Marco finds out the address while Jean listens in then takes a car and ladder and heads out.

That's the first time he meets you, crying at the mewing cat far up in a tree on your front lawn.

He almost laughs at the sight but contains himself for your sake. The cat will be fine.

You rush over to him and he pats your back and introduces himself and starts up to retrieve your cat.

You watch in both awe and distress as he takes this seriously and handles it much better than you have.

45 minutes later he finally gets the very uncooperative animal down and hands it back to you, almost breaking a sweat on that warm day.

You thank him and insist he come inside and get him a drink and a light meal and tell him you'll keep a better eye on your cat.

Soon Jean has to be getting back and you find after getting to know him maybe you don't want him to leave.

You ask more questions and he tells you of a food drive they are holding this Saturday and you ask if you can come and help.

Jean was secretly hoping that's where this was leading.

So it begins, first with the food drive, then with an open station tour, where Jean greets you and introduces you to Marco.

The event is for families and kids and you've borrowed your little cousin as an excuse to come. While Marco entertains her, Jean entertains you.

Soon you are going to events outside the station. Walks in the park, dinner, movies, late night texting sessions when you should both be asleep, getting to know each other more.

As much as Jean works, volunteers and studies, he makes time for you as an important part of his life.

He knows your work schedule by heart and soon you are getting little presents of flowers and other sweet things delivered both to your work and to your house.

Before his next year of volunteering is up you've moved to a deeper relationship, exchanging I love you's.

One day he tells you he doesn't know what he wants to do with his life and you spend the night talking again.

Though you worry about him when he's at the station, because while most calls are minor, some are very much not, you see he loves being a firefighter.

With you being a big supporting factor, he makes the decision to finish his degree, knowing it will be there for future use, cut down on the odd jobs, and become a full time firefighter.

A few months later, the week before he is set to have his induction ceremony, he asks if you want to look for a place together, knowing he wants to be with you.

Turns out you've been thinking of it too, and you start looking right away.

At his ceremony with the other inductees, including Marco and some friends they've made at the station along the way, you are there cheering Jean on with his mom and dad, your mom, dad and little cousin, and some other friends.

Jean has asked to go last and with his comrades help he sets his plan in motion, gets you on stage with him, and in his best suit in tie, hair slicked back, gets down on one knee and presents you with an engagement ring, if you'll have him.

You are sobbing and enthusiastically agree. You hug and kiss and the crew and people in attendance cheer you so loudly that the surrounding neighborhood hears it.

Within a month Jean now has his degree and you've found a place you both love and have moved in with your cat and a stray dog that someone found hanging around the station that Jean has been taking care of.

It's not long before you have a wedding, two in fact, both in one day. One early at the station with his team and friends where they wear their uniforms, except Marco, who has a tux on like Jean, being the best man. The captain of the station gives you away, and your dog is the ring bearer.

Jean then drives you to the second event in one of the fire engines that's decorated for the occasion. It's not a far drive but people honk and cheer and you both wave out the window.

Everyone is already present, both sets of parents front and center, and the rest of your family and friends, for a sweet, somewhat small barnyard wedding, that's perfect for the event and a reception.

Jean takes his place at the front with his best man Marco and his groomsmen who have walked in just before with the maid of honor and bridesmaids.

You come in, same dress as before, still leaving Jean with tears in his eyes as your father meets you and walks you down the aisle to Jean.

You both get time off for your honeymoon and after that settle into a routine you both adore as husband and wife.

You love being able to be home when Jean gets off and having things ready for him to take it easy, especially if he's had a trying day. He appreciates it and there's days where he does the same for you.

Life continues, you worry about Jean still, especially when his team is called to drive north and help other firefighters battle a wildfire.

You know he has to go and hug and squeeze him and cry a little bit. He promises to check in and you and his mom will keep in contact.

You don't see him for five days. You watch the news that talks about the men and women suffering from smoke inhalation and exhaustion and are beside yourself and your boss grants you a leave for a few days at seeing your grief.

Jean checks in just a couple times a day, telling you to stop watching the news, and that he's okay.

Some days you drive to his parents house and spend time with his mom as you both try to not watch the news, waiting for updates.

You break down and watch the devastation happening not very far from you and cry when Marco texts you and says everyone is fine and coming home but Jean suffered from heat exhaustion from being on the front lines while giving other out of commission firefighters a break.

While you wait for them to drive back the news declares there's finally an end in sight to the fires and all the people that came to help made all the difference.

You are glad of course, but can't wait to see your husband.

Jean's parents give you space and will call tomorrow to check in, and you just sit and wait for another hour. Your dog is right by your side, feeling how tense you are.

You jump up when you hear a car door and bolt outside where Marco is helping Jean out of the car. He's had medical treatment but still needs a little recovery time.

You cry and rush to them and hug him as gently as you can while really wanting to squeeze him. Jean tears up too and strokes your hair and you and Marco help him inside.

You thank Marco and hug him as well before he leaves. Then it's time to pamper your husband. Anything he wants.

You praise him and tell him how proud you are, make him his favorite meals, set up baths for him, cuddle him at night, wait on him for two whole days.

Jean adores you and tells you he thought of you all the time and is sorry he didn't check in more and tells you after a couple days he's feeling pretty good now, but he doesn't mind if you still want to spoil him.

After another week off he's back on the job, again, mostly minor calls with his station.

Your anxiety calms down now that he's home, always there though. You make sure to kiss him and tell him you love him every morning before and after he leaves.

One day you are off and cooking at home and are chatting with a friend who has called and don't notice that maybe the stove burner is on too high.

Your fire alarm notices though and it starts blaring. You get the dog and cat away from the kitchen and after a minute are able to relatively safely remove the source of the problem, but it's smoky enough the alarm doesn't stop.

The fire station is alerted thanks to a town wide system of alarms being connected to the station in case people aren't able to call.

Marco realizes it's your address and notifies Jean who doesn't hesitate to get in a car and rush home.

You really have it under control but are a mess from the situation and cry from embarrassment when Marco brings out a fire engine with a couple other members of the team just in case.

Jean takes the rest of the day off and gets the house back in order and makes sure you're okay. He knows this isn't like you.

It turns out, you tell him that night, that you've been preoccupied, from your recent doctor visit results, because next year you will be having a baby.

Jean is ecstatic and dotes on you and accidently slips earlier then intended to the crew when he asks about taking a leave at some point for, reasons. They all want to take the new dad to be out to celebrate and he let's them but insists on shutting down early to go be with you at home.

Before the year ends you get together with other station members and their wives and you ladies come up with the idea of a sexy fireman calendar, for charity, of course, supporting the local animal shelter.

Some of the men take real convincing of this. Jean is confused too that you won't mind his picture being gawked at, but you tell him no one else can touch and it's for charity, so it's okay with you.

The day they take the pictures the wives show up and it's clear you are all having way to much fun with this.

Some of you even adopt some of the animals that are included that day, and the calendar becomes such a success that it's clear another edition will be coming out next year.

In the meantime you and Jean continue to get ready for the new little life you will soon bring into the world.

---------------

a/n - follow up part of the calendar for charity coming up soon!! Picking months and poses and participants. There's more guys then months, I'm so sorry I can't please everyone! LOL