#at the last minute i remembered the little b on his jacket

[tipofthemountain]

actress

tags: biker!Simon “Ghost” Riley x actresses!Afab Reader, Fluff, Established relationship, reader is a famous actress. Mentions of sex and sexual acts but no action is taken. Minors should still take extreme caution reading!

word count: 1.5k

summary: Reader is on set of her newest movie and Simon comes to visit!

a/n: First story I’m posting! I’m a little nervous for what everyone will think but I hope you enjoy it!

ps. biker!Simon is my current hyper fixation so bare with me if there’s like a million more biker au stories :}.

edit: adding this in but my requests are open!

༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻ ༺𖤓༻

It was a warm Tuesday inside studio lot B. A beautiful facade of a two story house stands in a field of white daisies. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes when you walked onto the set. It looked so real! An exact replica of the real house you’ll be shooting on in a week.

The role you are playing is that of a farm wife with her three children, except your husband is having an affair with the barns keeper and your sleeping with the maid. Neither of you know you’re both cheating of course but the children do. The entire plot of the movie is the children trying to get the parents to find out about the double affairs. It’s a LGBTQ+ romance set in the early 1950s. It’s filled with steamy sex scenes and overly dramatic fights.

It’s the exact kind of movie you love doing. Sappy period pieces. In fact the movie that put you in the spotlight was almost exactly like this except it was the 1860s and you where a young unmarried queen with a “live in maid”.

Your boyfriend of 5 years Simon, or as his biker group likes to call him “Ghost” for the skull bandanna he likes to wear around his face, dropped you off on set on his newly refurbished 1980s Harley Davidson. You swore sometimes you thought he was more in love with that bike than he was with you.

“Make some money baby.” Simon told you after a steamy kiss early this morning.

Simons always been supportive of your career. The two of you met on the set of a Tv show when he was hired as a last minute extra for for some bike scene you can barely remember. For Simon it was love at first sight, but for you it was ‘I’ll wait and see where this goes’. Spoiler: You fell in love and are engaged, set to be married later this year.

“Where is my Anna Marie?” You hear your director yell out as you sit in your makeup chair getting touches done to your character’s signature red lip.

“Over here Clark! I needed my lips retouched. I think Amy got a little excited!” Clark Russel. You’ve worked with him a few times now and he’s always been a joy and a pleasure to work with, not something you find comes easy in this industry.

“Your needed on set in five. We’ve got to have this last shot of you and Blanche in the kitchen. We’ve got one week of shooting left here in the studio before we all go out on location.” Clark quickly spills out with you barely catching any of it.

Blanche is played by your costar Amy Heart. A talented actress 3 young years older than you. You’ve done several movies with her by now. You consider her one to your best friends and even plan to ask her to be a bridesmaid.

“James, Finn and Blanche are all on set. We just need you.” Clark makes direct eye contact with you as your makeup artist finishes the last touches on your makeup. He always insisted on calling people by their character names and you never questioned it.

James is played by Arther Godwin. The man that’s supposed to be your characters husband. You’ve never met him before this project but a quick IMDB search led you down a rabbit hole of bad low budget horror movies that you and Simon later binged watched. Finn is played by Roderick Grant, a fresh face. This would be his breakout role after a stream of hit indie movies.

“All done.” Your makeup artist releases you and you stand up from your seat grabbing the jacket that goes with your costume. You throw the jacket on around your shoulders and loop your arm in Clarks.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” You say in an over dramatic southern accent to which your director roles his eyes at.

༺𖤓༻

After 3 more hours of grueling take after take of Clark just having to get the tear sliding down your cheek just right, to which you where ready to rip his head off. Your just about to pass out on your trailer couch in nothing but a robe and very thin 1950s appropriate lingerie, when you hear 3 gentle knocks on your door. You get up with a puff of air leaving your lips putting your hands in your hair.

“Who is it!” You yell not really wanting to get up to answer the door.

“Open the door and find out!” You hear that oh so familiar thick Manchester voice behind the thinness of your trailers door.

In no time you’re rushing to the door and pulling your bulky fiancé in to your trailer and lacing your red lips with his. Simon closes the door through your sloppily sweet kisses. He smells of expensive leather and gas but you still drink all of him in.

“You miss me tha’ much?” Simons thick accent lets out through a smirk.

“Always.” You smile up at the tall man resting your chin on his chest.

“How was today? Make anyone else cry today?” Simon jokes but you take serious offense.

“That was one time and I didn’t even mean to yell at the poor guy.” You slap his shoulder as you both take a seat next in the oh so comfy couch in your trailer.

“I was only joking love.” Simon laughs and places a gentle kiss to your temple. He has one hand around your shoulder and the other rubbing up and down your thigh softly. You with one of your hands on his much bigger thigh and the other holding the hand that’s around your shoulder.

“Long day. Completely closed set. Only Clark and the main cast where set to shoot today.” Closed sets are usually indicators that you where filming your sex scenes today. You had one with your on screen husband and one with Amy. You almost never liked doing sex scene with men. It was never because Simon didn’t want you to or that you ever hated your male costar. You had this respect for Simon and you felt like the sex scenes could get too real sometimes. Personally, you never wanted for Simon to watch a scene of you sharing a bed(or even sometimes a kitchen counter) with another man. But every time you would ask Simon he would always just say some form of ‘This is all make believe. It isn’t real. I know you love me and some fake sex scene isn’t going to change that.” You still sometimes denied it though.

“When are you off?” Simon ask softly moving his hand further up your thigh.

You knew the game he was playing, he always did this when visiting. He always got you worked up and sweating before you had to go back and shoot a scene.

“30 minutes my love. We have to finalize a few things for today, but nice try honey.” You push Simons hand down slightly and look up towards him. Of course he has the cheekiest smirk on his face.

“I miss you at home.” Simon says kissing down your neck this time and creeping his hand back up your thigh.

“Simon.” You whisper scold him as he makes his way onto your shoulder planting sweet kisses.

“I miss the way you smell…” He grabs your hips and lays your back flat against the couch hovering over you as he plants kisses down over your collar bone. You inhale sharply when he moves his hand under the thin bra provided by the costume department.

“I miss the way you feel…” He moved his other hand to finish untying to robe from around your waist. He slowing starts kissing his way down your stomach stopping at the hem of the very 1950s lingerie.

“And I certainly miss the way you taste.” Simon has a giant smile planted on his face when he plants open mouth kisses down your thigh.

And just when he’s about to touch your center 3 harsh knocks are placed on your door.

“Miss, Mr. Russel said he needs you.” The voice calls out not even waiting for you to respond.

Simon lets out a laugh and you sit up and push him lightly.

“That’s not funny!” You whisper yell at him only to make him laugh even more. You stand up and tie your robe back around your waist and walk to the trailer door.

“It’s a little funny.” Simon says watching you with a panicked look on your face.

“I’ll be back in 20 minutes. I love you.” You place a gentle kiss on Simons lips and him returning the kiss.

“I love you too.” He says back placing one final kiss to your forehead.

Before you leave however you whisper into his ear “I think you owe the costume designer.” and bite the end of his ear playfully.

Simon watches you with his his cheek drawn inside his mouth as you grab the door handle of your trailer and leave him alone with his nothing but his thoughts for the next 20 minutes.

༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻ ༺𖤓༻

final thoughts: i definitely got carried away while writing. I tend to do that. I get caught up on details that most likely don’t even matter all that much. I feel like somethings definitely could have been left out and more things added in but in the end it’s just a story and if you don’t like the first few sentences, just skip the story and move on.

@gauloiseblue for you friend <3

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐢𝐞

Person B has to get dressed up for a nice event. B is struggling with their tie/dress/suit and can’t get it right. Person A is surprisingly good at fixing it and Person B asks them how they did it.

✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joshua Madika x GN!Reader

✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff + suggestive

✦ 𝐰𝐜: 819

✦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: none

✦ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Just a short something cuz he just looks too good :)

“God! Come on…” Joshua mutters to himself, fiddling with his troublesome tie as you walk in to put away some laundry. You set it aside and lean against the doorway for a moment, just to watch his handsome face scrunch up in mild frustration as the silky fabric slips from his grasp once more, “Are you going to help me? Or is this sight too amusing?”

“Hmm… nearly.” You tease, approaching him slowly to stand between him and the mirror and taking the tie from his slippery hands. Your own hands work quickly, almost automatically – all while Joshua ogles your ass in the mirror.

Lost in the wonderful sight, he’s caught off guard by you stepping back, “You’re done?” you nod, fiddling with his lapel and shirt collar. God, he looks damn good.

“How– That was so fast.” His long lashes blink in shock, he should’ve asked you to help him before now. “When did you learn to do it so fast? You don't even wear ties?”

“Oh, well…” You trail off, suddenly put on the spot and going back to fix minute details in his appearance to distract yourself – the curl fallen to his forehead, a speck of dust on his jacket, a small wrinkle on his shirt.

“This story’s a bit… unusual, so bear with me.” Josh nods in understanding, now entirely focused on watching your features that begin feeling warmer at the attention.

“So, remember I said I took psychology in high school?” A nod, “On one, seemingly random, class the teacher told us – without context – to learn how to tie a tie. And that he’d be grading us based on how well we did in the next class. Me, boasting the absolutely stellar combo of ‘perfectionist’ and ‘people pleaser', went to ask my father to teach me. Turns out, he's never worn a tie in his life and my mother was even less helpful.”

Skepticism would be a gentle way of describing the expression on your boyfriend’s face, so you raise your hand as if to wordlessly tell him to wait until you’re done before judging, “Why… would he ask you to do that?”

“I haven't the faintest, Josh. It was the guy’s last year as a teacher – I feel like he didn't care about making sense anymore. Anyway–” He pulls you with him while sitting down on the edge of the bed, giving your tired neck a rest from having to look up at him as you speak.

“Long story short, Youtube tutorials were surprisingly effective – I got full marks on the next class, even though I feel like that didn't end up mattering at all. I guess the knowledge just stuck from then.” You add sheepishly, adjusting (playing with) Joshua’s gorgeous curls as he takes you in silently. So focused on getting the details right, you barely noticed the unwavering attention he leveled you with during your little speech, cowering now that you do, “What’s that look for?”

His hand reaches for your cheek, brushing it with a tenderness that warms the skin beneath, “You’re just… everything.”

“Are you just saying that because you don't know what to say to that story or what?” You giggle, playfully gripping a handful of curls to direct his gorgeous nose to brush yours, both going cross eyed in the process.

“No, I mean it.” He whispers softly, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his lips graze yours, “You’re everything…” to me, he wants to say but the urge to lay his lips against yours is far too strong. The kiss is slow and sensual, almost enough to distract you from the fact that his hands begin wandering down your body, “Don't you have somewhere to be?”

“It can wait.”

“Hmm, not what you said this morning…” You whisper, matching his suggestive tone and doing nothing to discourage his actions – you don't want him to go, of course you don't, but you clearly recall him stressing over how important this dinner is just a few hours prior.

“Well, that was this morning. Before I discovered there were productive things for me to be doing.” His lips descend on your neck, sucking on it gently as your breaths hasten together.

“Me, you mean?” You tease and he hums approvingly, nimble fingers pulling back the band of your leggings to let it slap against your skin. Focusing becomes harder every second he keeps touching you, but a glimpse at the clock on the wall tells you it’s time to end the fun.

“I think I can wait… The dinner, however, can't.” With great effort, you tear yourself from his warm embrace, delighting in his childish whine while stepping back out of the reach of his long limbs. “Get to it.”

He groans deeply as you step out to give him space to prepare, secretly hoping he doesn't come back too tired to pick up where you left off…

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

8/9 God's Away on Business

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

I'm 20 minutes away. You home?

Sure! You're always welcome.

Simon never told her if he was a minute away. Something was different here.

The key turned on the lock of her front door sharply 20 minutes after he had sent that text, and she went to greet him.

Their hug lasted longer than usual, and she could feel the relief and sadness just pour from him. He embraced her like a 200-pound shadow, then kissed her gently on the cheek, not mouth — that kiss spoke of companionship rather than lust, and her heart melted against his chest.

He looked like hell. Not only drained but like he had been through hell. Something awful must've happened if a man like Simon couldn't conceal the emotional maelstrom he was evidently in.

"You just got back?"

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

She didn't usually ask How was work. It wasn't really work. It was something else.

Simon didn't answer, he just took off his jacket and shoes like he was sleepwalking. He continued that sleepwalk to her couch. It had become some sort of a safe place he had carved out from the world to curl in, even if he never curled in anywhere, simply sat down with a manspread that usually made her mouth water. But seeing him stare off into space like he had just seen a mushroom cloud in the distant horizons didn't make her want to jump his bones. It made her want to close him in a hug and shelter him from all the pain in the world.

"I lost people yesterday."

"Oh. Oh shit."

Something like this was bound to happen at some point. Her first feeling was relief from knowing that Simon had survived unscathed from whatever horror he and his team had been through.

"That's… I don't know what to say."

Now that he had poured some of that exhaustion on the floor of her hallway, she noticed that he was enclosed in a shroud of latent need for revenge. The air seemed to thicken around him: of course he would deal with heartbreak by silent wrath. His eyes reminded her of the Antarctic stare; they just kept staring off into the void while also appearing sharp and aware, like he might burst into action from the slightest little threat such as a sudden sharp sound. Her tiny little home, soft lights, and messy book piles seemed childish and nonsensical compared to the ominous man who had seen too much.

"23."

"What..?"

"23. The number of people I have lost in total."

Shit… Fuck. She tried to remember something useful from the psychology books she had gobbled up not too long ago. But she couldn't turn into a therapist and offer him treatment. He might only laugh at such tries, anyway. Surely they offered counseling services or trauma therapy in his workplace for these kind of situations… But Simon probably steered clear of those, too.

"Is Soap alive?"

"Yeah. Wounded."

Compassion took over, and she finally walked to him, sat down, and reached to place a hand over his.

"Sometimes I wonder if thousands of people are worth one good man," he said with a deepening, impending fury, a tempest barely held in confinement. "Not to talk about three."

Thousands of people…

That meant… Wow. Okay.

He was definitely working on preventing missiles or some shit. Saving the world.

Sweet Jesus… And she had just joked about it.

"This world could use another flood."

The shroud turned into a whole cage that prevented her from comforting him. The hand underneath her palm seemed to tingle and burn as if it was coated with tiny spikes.

He was always so dramatic, but it didn't make him sound whiny or childish. It was actually scary. He was the weapon of mass destruction, an atom bomb in one man, about to detonate and level a whole city with a blast and nuclear winds.

"Have you ever thought about… quitting, you know? Doing something else?" She offered him a choice like someone would offer a doughnut to a murder victim, hoping it would make the pain go away.

"I was an apprentice to a butcher before I enlisted."

"Well, that's… a bit different from what you're doing now."

"Is it?"

Another sliver of information about his past, and she wasn't necessarily surprised. The worlds they lived in were like night and day. She had a safety net, friends who didn't kill or fear being killed, she had a degree, access to education, a promising career in the culture field ahead of her. Simon had a rough childhood and a dark past; he had chopped corpses of dead animals for money and then pursued a career in killing humans. He had lost 23 and killed God knows how many people.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You got any food?"

"Sure. Um, no. But I'll order something."

She moved to rise from the couch, but he turned his hand and seized her by the palm. The warm fingers closed around hers and gave her a soft squeeze.

"I like that pasta sauce you make."

"The Bolognese?"

"Yeah."

"Then that's what you shall have."

There wasn't much else she could do. He wouldn't, or couldn't talk about it, so she ran to the nearest market to grab minced meat and some fresh herbs because dried ones simply wouldn't do right now. She made him food and seasoned it with as much love as she could while he put up a floating shelf she had gotten for books that didn't fit in her bookshelf anymore.

The scene was domestic, almost traditionally so. She had never thought of herself as a woman who would happily cook for a man. A man who put up her furniture for her. But then again, she had never thought she would date a man like Simon in the first place.

She suggested they watch a few episodes of a new tv show she was binging while they ate. Then he went to the shower, and she soon stood at the door, asking if he wanted to be alone. There was no answer, which in Simon's case meant it was safe to proceed. He was facing the cascading water as she stepped in to hug him from behind.

Perhaps it was the simple things. Even when the world was burning or war was raging or families were being torn apart, it was the simple things even then: some good, homemade food, some distraction, no matter how brainless and meaningless, some skin-on-skin connection and a good night's sleep.

It wasn't much; it wasn't a therapy session or a resurrection or anything life-changing. It wasn't much… But on the other hand, perhaps it was perfectly enough.

She gathered he might not be in the mood right now, but when he grew hard just from her embracing him, she slithered a hand down and stroked him shyly. He didn't stop her from pumping him to a release filled with weary sighs while he merely leaned on the tiles as she tried her best to alleviate his pain. He grabbed her hand after and laced their fingers together, used her hand to hug himself while a single, almost inaudible sniff pierced the sound of running water. It immediately turned into him clearing his throat — Simon didn't know how to cry.

He usually slept with boxers, perhaps a shirt on too, but this time he wore a whole set of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt into bed.

"You got that Glock here somewhere?"

He checked the mag and gave the gun a routine inspection, which seemed more like a comforting procedure than having anything to do with actual necessity. He had left it to her fully operational and with a weighted note to remember to rack the slide before firing.

It dawned on her that his gift served a whole other purpose too. It had been planted in her apartment, and not just for her protection.

A bleak thought passed through her mind about whether she would die that night in the hands of a traumatized, paranoid soldier, but she crawled into his arms nevertheless. He fell asleep right away — a sign of deep exhaustion. She wanted to caress him, hold him, but he rarely let her. Even now, when he was at his most vulnerable, he was the one who spooned her as they drifted off into sleep while there was a knife tucked under his pillow and a gun sitting on the headboard of the bed.

But instead of a possible homicide victim, she felt like a sleep toy when he tightened his grip on her through sleep with a sharp, irritated rumble when she tried to change position only slightly. It was then that she cried the tears he could not.

***

The darkness woke her up with a nightmare. Not a cold sweat one, but the kind where you were free falling and woke with a jolt just before the impact.

It was a familiar dream where she tried to hide from her abuser, the one who was supposed to love her but had turned out to be a grooming hunter. The most nightmarish thing wasn't that she was being chased again. No: the most aggravating thing was that she still felt weak. She was a grown-up now, she had more grit, she should've been perfectly capable of fighting back with words and fists. She wanted to voice her will, shout at him to leave her alone, even hurt that man, find some weapon to stab him with, just fight back somehow — but her muscles never worked, and time was running out: he was getting inside the building she was hiding in.

This time, it was different. With ecstatic thrill, she realized she could call for help. This time, she had a weapon called Simon. But the rotten thing was that he didn't answer the phone. He didn't come to her aid even when she sent distressed texts, and she was alone, weak, nothing but trash to the man about to come and bend her under his will again.

It was just a dream, but waking up was always a relief. She was breathing like she had just been saved from drowning. To her surprise, Simon was fast asleep, probably too spent to stay vigil, which was both unsettling and heartbreaking. He was hard against her, and she realized it must've bled into her dream, adding to its menacing nature.

Still, the relief was immeasurably sweet as she noticed Simon was physically here, holding her. Trauma was a bitch, but it didn't get to her this time. Nothing could hurt her. No one could come and take her away from the heavy, safe cage of his arms. The ripples of the nightmare slowly turned into something entirely different. How she could get wet just from feeling him thick and pulsing against her back after such a night terror was… well, it was new.

What had happened in the shower before they retreated to bed was fucking hot. Despite the evening full of grief and loss, that simple, urgent, shiver-ridden handjob in the shower was so beautiful that she could've cried from that alone. He was so done in that she finally got past the wall that seemed to prevent her from touching him. The connection was so pure that she didn’t quite know where she ended and he began.

She had never felt this kind of bond with another human being before. She hadn't even known that there were men like Simon, and perhaps there weren't. He was one of a kind.

Curling up together amidst a burning world, a selfish world, a world sinking like a ship, was so utterly beautiful that it was breaking her heart into pieces.

She shifted, sure of Simon waking from her turning around, but he only stirred a little and fell back asleep. Her hand seemed to have a will of its own as it found its way under his pants and caressed him. The thick flesh pulled against her palm, calling her to give him more of that stress relief, to drown him in love. Surely he would only be pleasantly surprised if she woke him up with her mouth.

She didn't get far before a hand shot out. Fingers scraped against her scalp and grabbed, yanked her by the hair, then raised her from between his legs.

Fuck… Of course.

How could she be so stupid?

"That's not a good idea, sweetheart," he said with a sleepy, slightly alarmed grunt. "Even though I appreciate the gesture."

He gentled his grip on her as if it had only been something naughty that had accidentally, in the spur of the moment, turned into too rough a treatment. Her scalp was burning, but what shocked her more was witnessing how quick his reflexes could be.

She was dealing with someone who had gotten used to being touched only with violence, with pure intention to cause harm. The darkness was the time for phantoms; they appeared in her bedroom as if she had called them forth with her mouth. The nightmare was still fresh on her mind, giving ground to having another talk about things neither of them wanted to discuss… But she had wanted to ask a certain question from the moment she had seen all those scars.

"Have you ever been tortured?"

The hand caressed her hair now, and she cursed that they almost always made love in the darkness. She wanted to see him, needed to see him, to make sure that that hand belonged to Simon instead of a ghost.

"Just ask how many days."

"How many days?"

"98."

She had expected the answer to be something like two or three days. That Simon had survived full-on torture without breaking for a week, at the very maximum.

98 days covered over 3 months.

He took her hand and brought it to his ribs, on a protruding scar she had seen many times. It wasn't the most prominent, but it was, apparently, one with the meanest memory.

Shouldn't have asked… Shouldn't have asked…

"Got slapped up on a meat hook like those pigs back there in the butchery. You believe in karma?"

"Simon.. Jesus Christ."

"Nah, the hook was the nice part. It's the brainwashing that really gets to ya." He rubbed himself with her hand as if to relieve a long-forgotten pain.

"If the mind breaks, you're done."

Simon wasn't living in the same world as her. He lived in the same realm as Roman slaves who were slaughtered for entertainment in the Colosseum, as soldiers freezing to death on the Eastern Front of World War 2, as political prisoners tortured in North Korean internment camps.

"This is horrible."

"What's horrible is you wakin' me up like this and not finishing the job."

Shivers of ice seeped down her spine. He was so unfazed… and it wasn't just denial or a defense mechanism. He was simply in terms with what had happened to him — what had been done to him. He didn’t turn his gaze away from the abyss. She wouldn't call it healthy or normal, but it was mature as hell, something so profoundly self-sufficient and fearless that she knew she would never meet a man like Simon.

Feeling both scared and aroused, she granted his wish and took him back in her mouth. They had just talked about meat hooks and psychological torture, but he was hard as a rock. The moan that left him as she went deep and flattened her tongue against him was an exhausted and deprived sigh, and she felt tears welling up.

He was broken and perfect and beautiful, he simply wouldn't yield. Not in any storm, not before a hurricane, not amidst a fallout, not in the thick of whatever apocalypse would come and rain upon this world. The least she could do to honor such a man was to make him sigh like that.

The moans that left him were different from when he was fucking her. They sounded fragile, arduous, and brought pain to mind. His enemies had tried to break him for nearly 100 days and failed. She couldn't stop thinking about where all those scars had come from — mutilation, beating, cutting, flagellation, not to mention being suspended on a meat hook…

Had it ended in him being buried alive? Or was that a whole other story? And who had been in the coffin with him? An enemy or a friend?

He said the physical torture wasn't even the worst of it…

She thought about how he always looked so incredibly tired, was so paranoid about someone coming to get him. He had most likely been subjected to sleep deprivation and constant interrogation, other slow methods meant to break someone psychologically. Methods that escaped her imagination.

Tears ran down her cheeks, and she sobbed against him, like a pathetic woman who knew nothing of the world’s darkness. A killer's hand found its way in her hair again, this time with the gentlest caress.

"Dove… C'mere."

Whatever test this was, she felt like a total failure when releasing him and letting him pull her into another staunch embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said softly while petting her hair like she was a child who had had a nightmare.

He shouldn't be sorry for anything. He shouldn't be consoling her for his own torture. Her own past seemed like a walk in the park compared to this, her depression was laughable. Even when she knew these kinds of things shouldn't be compared.

"Sometimes forget that you're a civilian."

How on earth he could forget that was beyond her. What Simon had forgotten, though, was what civilian life was like. What ordinary, day to day life looked and felt like. Why would he want to continue his job after everything he had been through?

Unless he didn't care if he got killed.

Unless he wanted to get away. Had been wanting to get away for years now, just like her…

The tears were running in streams now, and her nose was stuffed, broken sighs passed through her mouth as he kept her in one piece with a simple hug.

"Gotta say it gets me fuckin' hard when you shed tears for me,” he said, amused, while she was crumbling under the weight of their darkness.

"You're always so cocky," she sighed, trying to get air through her mouth because her nose was clogged from the tears.

"Isn't that what you like about me?"

When she wouldn’t speak, he turned her around to lie on her stomach and started to caress her back. Slow and steady, purposeful. He cherished her from neck to waist, rubbed the knots between her shoulder blades, soothed tension in places she didn't even know she had any. It was the gentlest touch she had felt since childhood, a caress of her entire being.

How poetic, that a butcher was the only one to have touched her with such mercy.

She should be the one doing the comforting, but here they were again. All those psychology journals, all those books, all that education, and he was the one who knew what to do, how to handle his shit. And her shit too.

"C'mon... Tell me you like it."

The callous hand cupped her ass, slid down her thigh, beckoned it to lift to gain access to her. It was just an inspection due to her not having said a word, and he must've taken it as a sign of her being proud and stubborn... And then the night laughed at her with a gratified haze as his fingers met her wetness.

"Alright, have it your way. But you're always drippin' for me… That's how I know ya like it."

He relished in what he found, spread the moisture all over her folds, causing her hips to rise up to present her pussy to him — like it was normal that she was soaked after such a sad evening and a fright of a night.

But Simon didn't seem to regard it as perverse at all. To him, it was quite natural, mostly an endearment, as he climbed on top of her like a god of war about to get a taste of bliss after a hard day on the battlefield.

The bulged tip found her entrance with a familiarity that was only sublime. He was such a tease when he wanted to be, coating himself with her before going straight in.

"Got your eyes and your cunt wet for me. If that ain't love, don't know what is."

Words escaped her again as he stretched her wide, and she could feel his hunger, both their hunger. He simply had more patience than she did to not act upon it right away. He set a pace that was sweet and slow, so greedy that it made her grab the sheet in a tight fist.

"You're hopeless," she sighed while her back arched to meet him in perfect sync, the rhythm they had established long ago was the most divine for both of them. Perhaps he wanted to feel alive too, especially on a night like this. His hand found hers, the one grabbing the sheet, and she opened for him, interlaced her fingers with his, and squeezed. The sadness turned into a lazy, warm pool of love and arousal, even euphoria.

"That's it sweetheart… what else? Tell me how much you like me."

It was never straight-shooting with him. She couldn't just say that he was driving her insane. It had been embarrassing enough to spill all that love in the air when she had been drunk, with him between her legs like a bloodhound that had caught scent.

So she told her what he disliked about him. Those things happened to be the ones she absolutely loved about him as well.

"You talk too much," she offered, already out of breath.

"Never hear that at work."

"Probably because you don't fuck your co-workers."

He laughed at that, so uncharacteristic and unbridled that it made tiny bubbles brim all over in her, too.

"Know a few dolls who wouldn't mind if I did."

Jealousy bled instantly. No — it clawed at her insides. Simon had women on his team? He had discreetly left them unmentioned up until this point.

It crossed her mind that maybe he was the lovesick one now. But that couldn't be true… He was just being arrogant, as always.

"Don't worry darling. I'm all yours."

That husky purr drove her only more nuts. He even sent his hands down to her waist and held her steady while making it known to whom she belonged.

"Think you can handle me?"

The next thrust was punctuated, his balls pressed against her clit, rewarding him with a tight moan she simply couldn't hold back. The appeased rumble above her told her that he only got a kick out of this childish boasting.

"I don’t know. Your ego is too big for me," she tried to sound dry during yet another delicious fucking.

"Got somethin' else that's big," he bragged, voice covered in molten gold. "Right? Just for you."

On that, she refused to entertain him. He knew perfectly well just how big he was. Simon didn't do relationships but had surely had his fair share of women who had run into his arms more than gladly. Far more eagerly than her, or at least, with far less dignity. It was despicable, but she was jealous of his past too and envied every single one of them, whether the women he'd had amounted to dozens or hundreds.

"You like big men?" He brushed her hair aside from her cheek as if wanting to see her face to read the answer from her expression, even if it was too dark to see anything.

"I like men who know when to shut up," she blurted.

A laugh, rough but hearty, echoed in the bedroom.

"Marry me."

Her eyes went wide, her jaw opened, a quick gasp passed through…

"Or don't. 'S not worth the pension."

A joke… He was joking.

Her eyes fluttered closed, but her mouth was left hanging open; then it slowly but surely curved into a quivering little smile. This goddamn man would be the end of her.

He caressed her again, then brushed a thumb over her lip in a soft, yearning gesture that told her he wanted to kiss her but couldn't from this position. The gentle lovemaking in the dark thick of night was sweeter than any pain, and she did something rebellious: she reached for that thumb, captured it in her mouth, and sucked.

"Fuck…"

It was a surprised huff. Completely taken aback.

She swirled her tongue around it, gripped it tight, mouthed it like it was his cock — and could feel his hips buck unexpectedly.

"Not gonna last long if ya..-"

The hurried explanation ended in a lengthy groan, and the body above her went rigid, then shuddered. He came without warning, the thumb was pushed even further into her mouth, and he was buried in her to the hilt, hissing and moaning like it caused him pain.

He was always a gentleman when it came to her pleasure, never chased his own before she had gotten hers first. It must drive him a bit mad to spill so soon — especially when it wasn't even the first time today.

It was the softest cataclysm she had ever seen, another stealthy peek behind those high brick walls. His body crushed her, the massive arms closed in around her, he rubbed his face somewhere in her neck… and he was trembling. Perhaps it was his way of weeping since he couldn't cry actual tears.

He was finally speechless, gathering himself after an unusually weak moment. He swallowed, panted, then swallowed again. Struggled to regain control, snatched it back like an injured soldier. But he wasn’t angry, nor was he ashamed, he was pretty damn delighted.

"Now look at what you did," he scolded, but the tone was playful. He slipped out of her mouth, the heavy chest was throbbing against her back, and she mourned the fact that her skin only met cotton.

"You had it coming."

Arousal made her voice thicker than usual, and he buried his face further in her hair.

"Really…"

And again, he wouldn't pull out. She was just gathered in his arms and dragged to lie on her side. Her back met a solid chest, and the hand traveled up her throat, making her expose her neck for him to wolf from behind. It was probably her weakest spot – and as soon as he noticed it, he took advantage of the knowledge. He even used teeth on her, made love bites like they were some horny teenagers. She would have to wear high collars for classes next week…

"Does that feel nice?" The attentiveness was nearing unbearable proportions, his voice so close to her ear that her eyes rolled back. He was big, even when soft, and continued to rub against her after slipping out. Another hand dove down to assist her reach her own peak.

"Judging by how wet you are, it does."

He was right, as always. The tears were dry, but her pussy was not; she was so wet that it was a miracle how he was able to be as precise as he was.

How the hell could one man be so good at everything…

"You're too sweet for your own good," he whispered when she shattered against that chest and those fingers, her own flexing against his arm as she came. She let him carry her to the shore, break on it like a wave. The broken cries were such a signature, the music of them such a tell, that it really didn't matter that she didn't, couldn't use words with him.

This was the best therapy either of them could get, no matter what any book or professional said. They were wildly alive, they had found each other through horrors and blood and tears. Somehow, he had found his way to her orbit, collided with her in that dark, grimy, degraded place where she danced for money for a tortured killer like him. Her job was a good workout, and it paid the bills, but it had also brought Simon to her, and she had never been more grateful for deciding to go on those pole dance classes years ago.

"I have to wear high necks to school again," she said afterward in his arms, all snug and prepared to glide back to sleep.

"Serves you right."

He was hard again while she was feeling sore and puffy and content — and slathered, with both of their juices, which he used to lazily guide himself through her folds.

"Ready for another round if you are," he offered.

That would be his third one already… The ungodly amount of stamina on this man was frightening.

"I- I don't think I can."

It was mostly an acknowledgment of his size, and they both knew it. Simon just tightened his hold on her, appearing quite pleased with this outcome. Won another round, the gloating, lovable bastard.

"Alright, dove. Let's get you some sleep."

***

The next morning, when she was making him an omelette he suddenly began to speak.

"I usually fuck everything up when shit hits the fan, no matter the cost."

She turned off the stove and moved the pan away to stop the hissing sound threatening to drown his voice.

"This time, I just wanted to get back."

It was a confession of another kind… A compliment. Might even be the highest compliment she had ever received from this man. Simon wanted to stay alive and return to her rather than avenge his fallen ones.

Still, there was bound to be recoil, some survivor's guilt — or a bitter self-reflection moment of a superior.

"Are you blaming yourself?"

"I don't know. No, that's not what I meant."

"I realized…" His brows drew together in an attempt to search for the right words. "I realized there that… You might be the only person I can trust."

She was moved, ripe for walking to him right then and there and relieve that tension in his shoulders. Freaking finally give him that massage he had yearned for since autumn. There was something profoundly wrong with her that she hadn't done it yet.

He always attended to her. It was supposed to be a display of authority, but she knew that the best leaders didn't lead with fear; they served. It was high time someone served him.

"It's not a good sign," he muttered.

"I would see it as a great sign," she said with a shy smile, but it died on her lips as she saw how he only appeared to fall deeper into misery.

"Right? Simon?"

"I thought I already dealt with this shit 10 years ago."

That sentence sent ice down her back. Her skin broke into goosebumps, they seemed to travel all the way up to her head. Her palms were already sweating by the time he spoke again.

"You see, everyone I trust either dies or…" Simon was staring inwards into some distant memory she knew nothing about. She went to sit on the small piece of furniture that could almost be called a dinner table. Not necessarily because she wanted to get closer to him, but because her stomach was churning and she feared she might faint in her little kitchen.

"Everyone I love, dies."

She forced a hand reach out to grab his as she tried to call him back to the present moment and back to her.

"That can't be true. I mean, that can't be set in stone kinda true."

"Who knows."

The walls were suddenly so high that she couldn't get to him even when they were holding hands like this.

But this was the most precious thing in her life. She would fight for it if she must.

"I'm willing to take that risk," she said without fear.

"I admire your courage."

He didn't say he was willing to take that risk too. She hadn't quite prepared for that, nor for what came after.

"I can't do my job if I'm…"

"If you love someone?" She offered when he wouldn't continue.

She fucking hated his job at this point. She hated his dead father, and she hated the Manchester slums, she hated everyone who had hurt him and betrayed his trust. But it was like peeling an onion when it came to Simon: there was always a new layer underneath the one that was shed away. Who knew what was hidden at the core, or if she would ever even reach it?

"Well, what about… your mom?"

"Dead."

"You have siblings?"

"Dead."

Holy shit. Things were even worse than she had thought.

"What about friends? Like, off work?"

"Not anymore."

Terror began to swell and roll inside her like a tidal wave. A menacing calm before the storm, an eerie silence a split second before the explosion.

"You have nobody?"

He stared off into space, telling her with that look alone that he had no one. He released her hands, or rather, forced her to release him. Then he dropped the atom bomb.

"I didn't mean for things to go this far."

All her fears, long since lulled to sleep, crawled through the earth to suffocate her.

It was true after all: she had been just a bit of fun, a one-night stand that had turned into a plaything. A plaything who had latched itself onto a man who didn't want extra baggage.

"What a nice thing to hear." Her voice was metal, and Simon wouldn't say anything, proving her worst nightmares true.

He had had enough of her and now wanted to end things. The beautiful dusk had rolled into a knifelike dawn, and it was time to finish the show.

"Then why are you still here?" She finally dared to look up at him, and he looked confused, like he didn't know the answer to that question.

Things spun out of control so fast that she felt faint in the head. It was hard to think rationally when all their shared memories were suddenly covered in a wicked haze of shallow fucking, noncommitment, and her being an absolute fool for having believed that Simon would want her for the rest of his life.

"I get it that you're a super secret soldier spy, that you have to sneak around and give me a heart attack every other week. I get that we can't be together as much as I would like. But if you don't even want this, then what the hell are you doing here?"

His eyes were wide, his throat worked an arduous swallow. He looked more hurt than ever, more in pain than he had been last night due to the death of his teammates.

But to her, it was the look of a poker player who had got caught red-handed in cheating.

How dare he joke about marriage and elaborate on how sweet she was during the night, only to set everything on fire the next morning?

She was just a sweet little stray cat he liked to pet and pamper and fuck when he had the time, a nice little vacation from work filled with excitement. Everything needed to be exciting to him, he needed a dose of adrenaline and knife play and showering bullets to make him hard so he could fly back to grey London to get a go with his pole dancing little school girl.

Putting up shelves, seeing pictures of her spending Christmas with the family, tea and omelette in the morning were too mundane, too boring. She had been another kind of adrenaline shot.. But now she was only a dry syringe with the words I love you spoken in the air.

She got up and took a few steps back, tried to cut off a love that she already knew wouldn’t die, would never, ever die.

"This is so fucked up. If I'm just some momentary lapse in your life, then…" she shook her head at a loss for words. He had been silent for the whole outburst, but at her last suggestion, he cut in.

"No. Never. You're–"

She was so riled that she couldn't even hear his words. "You know what? Go do your job then. I'm sick and tired of waiting for you to come home to me, only to hear something like that. God…"

He snapped his mouth shut after she cut him off and simply raged on, all the longing and confusion of whole months streaming out of her mouth with an annoying high-pitched account. If she hated her voice right now, she could only imagine how it must sound to him. Her irritating hysteria only worsened the situation, especially when Simon remained so fucking calm.

"This is just…" She laughed through tears she didn't want him to see. With sheer willpower, she fought those tears back to the abyss. He would probably just get off on seeing her cry.

After all, she was the sweetest girl there was. Too sweet for her own good. The most gullible, naive piece of shit.

"I don't know how this is gonna work."

He stared at her with chest heaving, then his breath settled into a calm, ordered roll, his expression turned to stone. The rage was directed inwards before it could lash out at her. The man called Simon turned into Ghost, a professional killing machine, so quickly amidst a raging storm that she could hear the eye of it reach them, the whole world around her go silent. Or perhaps she was momentarily deafened by that cold-hearted stare that turned away from her with a final, lingering tinge of sadness. Even that was gone by the time he rose from the table and walked to the hallway.

Her heart was struck with a blade; she bled dry before she could even take a step to follow him. She saw him put his shoes on, then reach for his jacket, which he flung on with heavy shoulders and a broad back turned to her like a shield.

Simon was resigning.

He was fucking leaving.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He reached for his pocket and drew out a cigarette and a lighter, the flash of cold steel stinging her eyes although there was little sunlight because the day was grey. The Zippo was something she had found for him from a thrift store, and it had the tusked Snaggletooth logo of Motörhead on it. It felt like the perfect gift after noticing Simon had played the band's music from some old, burned cd when he had taken her on that shooting trip. He had ruffled her hair when receiving it, evidently pleased. "Knew you were a keeper," he had said when she told him she loved Motörhead too.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, the cigarette was sent between his lips, and he wouldn't look back, only marched to the door with heavy steps.

The fear wouldn't die even when she tried to tell herself that he was only going for a smoke to calm his nerves from her sudden fit. They would talk things through when he got back.

Which was why she never said anything, didn't follow him.

The door slammed shut, and she swallowed and turned to get a sip of her coffee. Her hands were shaking, the coffee was cold, and she realized she had just basically told him to get out. That cold-blooded stare still haunted her, and she wanted to go check if Simon was truly there, smoking on those steps and being a wall, her wall, against the cold, uncaring world.

She played the conversation over and over in her head, what was spoken, and the frost of horror turned her senses sharp, her ears started to ring from the silence. Simon had told her he trusted her and she had just freaked out — hadn't even let him finish what he had tried to say.

She wanted, needed to tell him right this second that she was sorry for being such a lunatic. She turned for the door, then walked back, forced herself to remain calm.

He needed space, and she didn't want to upset him more than she already had. He was older than her, used to nuclear seasons and warheads and blunt trauma, he was sharp as a whip. He wouldn't get rattled so easily. He would come back, smelling of fresh smoke, he would tell her what to do. That they would make it work no matter what. Flesh out a plan.

Because that’s all she wanted to hear. That he was serious and wanted this to work as much as she did. That it was just some miscommunication.

But her instinct told her that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

Minutes passed, and she finally went to open the door, and there was no one there. The streets were silent, the grey clouds even darker still, hanging over her like doom. She was feeling nauseous, a shudder went through her whole body, then her teeth started to rattle.

She closed the door and turned and tried to take a step, but her knees gave in and she slumped somewhere on the floor of her hallway filled with shoes and dirt and emptiness.

#simon riley x oc#ghost x oc#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x oc#mw2 smut#ghost fanfiction#simon riley fanfic#cod fanfic#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x female oc#simon riley x female reader#ghost x female reader

[hubbvrd]

Family | Sam Hubbard

summary — sam meets your family for the first time

pairing — sam hubbard x reader

words — 2058 words

notes — y/l/n = your last name ; y/m/n = your mothers name ; y/f/n = your fathers name

Nervously, you try again to follow the steps of the hairstyle video that is playing on your cell phone.

Although it wasn't a complicated hairstyle and the woman in the video showed you the steps in detail, you just couldn't manage it, which was probably due to your nervousness.

Because today was the first time you were going to introduce Sam to your family.

Your family already knew that you had been in steady hands for three months and they had been planning to invite you and Sam to your parents' house for months.

However, since the NFL season had started again a few weeks ago, this had more or less turned out to be difficult, as Sam was quite busy and it was difficult to find a day on which the family reunion could take place.

Because if you and Sam could, someone else couldn't. But today was finally the day and in less than an hour your family would meet the man by your side who made you happy beyond measure.

With a quiet curse, you locked your cell phone and threw the hair ties back in the box before glancing at your reflection in the mirror.

Your make-up was surprisingly perfect today, which, to be honest, didn't happen very often.

But now you had to come up with a plan B for your hair.

Before you could think any further, however, the bathroom door opened and Sam stuck his head inside.

"Honey?" Sam asked, looking at you through the mirror.

"Yes?" you replied and turned to face him as Sam opened the door a little more and came inside the bathroom.

"Can I put this on like this?" as he spoke, he made a hand gesture to draw attention to the white shirt he was wearing.

"Do you want me to get you another jacket?" you tease him, grinning slightly as you take a step towards your friend and straighten the collar of his shirt.

"Am I too overdressed?" You can hear the slight panic in his voice, so you carefully place your hand on his bicep and look up at him.

"No, babe. You're not. But I know you don't like wearing shirts too much, so a white T-shirt would be perfectly fine."

You give him a gentle look as his expression slowly relaxes.

"You know how important it is for me to make a good impression on your family. I want them to like me," he says openly, expressing his thoughts and concerns.

You knew that Sam was pretty nervous about today's meeting and had already been worrying a lot, so much so that you had found him in the kitchen yesterday in a state of total agitation, driving himself crazy with the worst things that could happen today.

"I know that and so will you. They'll love you just as much as I love you."

You carefully place your hands on his cheeks, which you gently stroke with your thumbs and begin to notice that your boyfriend is slowly beginning to relax under this touch.

"Thank you," he says and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "So you'd rather wear a T-shirt, eh? I don't want them to think that I only wear shirts in my free time."

Before you can even begin to reply, Sam has already disappeared from the bathroom to get changed.

And so you turn your attention back to your hair problem, hoping to get a proper hairstyle in the next few minutes.

Barely fifty minutes later, you finally reach your parents' house.

You simply couldn't miss the house, as it was the most conspicuous house on the street.

You remember all too well how your father took you and your brother to the DIY store one day, where the two of you were allowed to choose a color for the front of the house.

And since then, the yellow house lit up the whole street.

But it wasn't just the yellow color of the house that was striking, but also the countless colorful flowers that stretched from the driveway all the way up to the house and gave you the feeling of being in a flower paradise.

"The potted flower was a really good idea for your mother," Sam grinned as he got out of the car and reached for the potted flower he had chosen as a gift for your mother.

He had bought a six-pack of beer for your father, which he tucked loosely under his arm and grabbed your hand with his other hand, interlacing your fingers.

"You got that tip from me too," you grin before you make your way to the veranda together.

Countless colorful flower pots of all sizes had found their place on the veranda and here, too, there was a beautiful colorful chaos.

Your mother loved flowers and gardening so much that you have never known your home without colorful flowers for as long as you can remember.

A smile immediately began to form on your lips as you started to feel at home again.

You've hardly seen your family in the last few weeks and have only spoken briefly now and again, as the last few weeks have been pretty stressful. But that makes you even happier to finally see them all again.

"Ready?" you whisper quietly in Sam's direction as you suddenly start to get nervous yourself.

For the first time in four years, your parents would be meeting a new man at your side and you were really nervous about how they would find Sam and how everyone would get along. 

"Ready," Sam assured you, gently squeezing your hand to confirm his word.

Without hesitation, you raise your hand and knock firmly on the white door, which seemed to have seen better days.

It didn't take long for the door to open and your mother appeared with a broad grin.

"My darling! There you are!" your mother happily pulls you into a tight hug, which makes you feel like you can't breathe for a moment.

"I'm happy to see you too, Mom. But if you hug me so tightly, I won't get to eat," you reprimand her lightly, while a soft giggle creeps over your lips.

"I'm just so happy to finally see you again" as she speaks, your gaze wanders over to Sam and, so that your boyfriend can greet your mother better, you carefully remove your hand from his.

"It's really nice to meet you Mrs. Y/L/N. I'm Sam, Sam Hubbard."

With a nervous smile, Sam holds out his hand to your mother, but your mother ignores the gesture and pulls Sam into a warm hug with a big grin, which takes Sam quite by surprise, so you press your hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.

"Call me y/m/n, please! I've heard so many positive things about you and I'm so excited to finally get to know you better," she babbles as she pulls Sam into the kitchen with her and begins to engage him in conversation.

With a smile on your lips, you look after the two of them before walking through the open hallway into the living room and then outside onto the terrace, where you find your brother and father already having a barbecue.

You could never have imagined that your mother wouldn't like Sam, as it was pretty easy to win your mother's heart and convince her of your boyfriend.

But this would prove more difficult with your brother and your father, and you start to hope that Sam will be able to win them over with his easy-going and charming manner.

"Hey Dad, Hey Nolan," you greet them both and are pulled into a warm hug one after the other, something your family was all too well known for.

"Where did you leave your boyfriend?" your father asks as he looks behind you into the house and keeps his eyes peeled for Sam.

"He's at mom's. I think she's already feeding him all sorts of things so he won't be hungry for meat anymore,"  you say with a wry grin, causing your father and brother to roll their eyes.

"Would you like a drink?" your brother asks shortly afterwards, holding out a bottle of water and a can of Coke.

"Thanks," you thank him and reach for the can of Coke.

With the can in your hand, you watch your brother and father tending to the barbecue.

Shortly afterwards, Sam and your mother join them and Sam was actually eating a piece of homemade bread.

"Your bread is really incredible, y/m/n," he praises your mother, whose cheeks immediately turn red and you knew that Sam's charm had your mother wrapped around her finger. 

"Dad, Nolan? That's my boyfriend, Sam. Sam? This is my father y/d/n and my brother Nolan," you introduce the three of them to each other and watch, heart beating faster, as your brother and father look at Sam critically for a moment before the two of them pull him into a warm hug as well.

First part successfully mastered and hopefully the rest of the day would continue like this.

While Sam joins your father and brother at the barbecue to start chatting with them, you follow your mother into the kitchen, where you find countless tasty treats.

Every time you have a barbecue at home, your mother literally outdoes herself with baked bread, fruit platters and salads.

"Wow. That looks really incredible, mom" you praise her as you help her take the food out to the table, as the meat will be ready in a few minutes.

"Thank you, darling," she replies with a smile and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "I like Sam. He makes a really good impression. I think he'll fit in well with our family."

You feel the warmth rise slightly in your cheeks and a warm, pleasant feeling spreads through your stomach.

All the worries you used to have about your family not liking Sam or Sam not feeling comfortable here are gone. 

"Thanks, mom, that's really nice to hear. And I hope Dad and Nolan will see it the same way."

"They do, look," with a nod, my mom pointed towards the garden, where all three of them were standing a little way from the barbecue, throwing the football to each other, and Sam was the one grinning the most.

And to capture this moment in pictures, you reach for your cell phone to take a photo.

After everything is ready on the table, a few minutes later the meat is ready and you're all sitting at the table together.

Sam, who is sitting next to you, has your left hand on your leg while he keeps trying to tell your mother that he has had enough of all her salads on his plate.

But she keeps trying to push more on him, so you have to speak up to stop her.

"Mom, I think that's enough. Otherwise I'll have to roll him home later," you joke, making the whole table laugh.

"I'll be happy to pack you something for tomorrow or the next few days, Sam. You have to try everything," your mother babbles again, before shoving a piece of meat into her mouth and starting to chew with relish.

"I have a better idea," Sam began, squeezing your leg gently before continuing. "Why don't we repeat this day more often? Then I can continue to enjoy y/d/n's barbecue skills and taste your delicious dishes."

It wasn't always the biggest words that became the most meaningful words.

Because it was often normal sentences that changed things.

And Sam's words were such words.

It couldn't make you any happier that Sam got on so well with your family and even wanted to see them again more often.

With a broad grin on your lips, you pull his face closer to you.

"I love you so much. And those words are so incredibly sweet of you," you breathe softly against his lips before kissing him.

And thanks to your family, who have welcomed Sam so incredibly well and have already taken him into their hearts, you know for sure that Sam is the right one for you and your family.

[ayelbee]

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 3

previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: French translation from a translator

Notes: This was the first time and also the last time I tried to write dialog in french, and never again! So with this I wanna apologize to french speakers, because i belive it is gonna be shit. Also I'm curenntly stuck at home for another week with a sickness, so I'm opening requests now!

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You didn't want to leave your bed that day, but you also knew that you needed to get up. Ethan was supposed to come in two hours, so you had two hours to make yourself look less miserable than you actually were.

It took you another thirty minutes before you were able to get out of your bed. With a few curse words you made your way to the kitchen first, and then to the bathroom where you got ready.

You actually didn't do anything special, because, at the end of the day, Ethan was your little brother, he knew how you looked in the morning, just in his brother's shirt and his giant sweatpants. But you wanted to look good for yourself, to show Ethan how his brother's absence in your life didn't have any effect on your life.

Which obviously have.

After changing from your PJs into some hoodie with sweatpants you spent the rest of the morning dancing to your favorite songs to light up your mood. Which worked as always.

As you were singing the last words of Sexy Bitch, you heard the doorbell ring. All out of breath, you went to the door to open it. There you found Ethan with a giant grin on his face.

"Did you hear that?" you asked as you moved out of his way to enter your flat.

"Little bit" he laughed "hello by the way." you got closer to him and you hugged him.

"Hey." as the hug ended you look at him from top to bottom. "You grew up again, right?" you didn't remember him as tall as he was now.

"Or you got smaller" he laughed "where can I put my jacket?"

"Funny." you rolled your eyes as you pointed to the hook on the wall.

"Will you get me a home tour like in those youtube videos?" he asked with a giant grin playing on his face.

"Well there is not much to see, but sure if you want to." you talked while he was taking off his shoes.

"There is a bathroom" you pointed to the door on his left side "that door next to them is the toilet and there is my bedroom." now you were pointing to the right side. But my favorite room is there." you started to walk thru the last door, turning back to Ethan as you reached the middle of the room. "This is my kingdom," you said as he turned around your living room connected to the kitchen.

"This room screams your name." he laughed as he started looking out from the windows.

"Why?" you sat down on a couch.

"The plants, the painting, the big windows." he sat next to you. "I really like the view tho."

"The view is actually the reason why I chose this flat." your apartment was situated in the courtyard, which made him really calm.

"Menteuse," he said with a playful tone. You just furrowed your eyebrows.

"What?" you didn't get why he called you a liar.

"You can't tell me that you choose this flat because of the view, you lived in an apartment with a view of the Champs de Mars." Ethan raised his eyebrows and fixed his gaze on you.

"That's true but this apartment has its own vibe, you know? It is cozy, the view makes you calm, and it is my safe place. No stress, no worries, just silence." Kylian's apartment was giant, it was fine when the two of you were there, but when he was away it was too much. You felt so alone there, that was the reason why you always did your best to spend as little time as possible there alone.

"Kylian was your safe place back then." you felt like he was interrogating you. Trying his best to notice every change in your expression when he mentioned his brother's name.

"What is this about Ethan?" your voice stayed calm, but your eyes looked broken almost watery. Ethan noticed. Ethan always noticed, he was a good kid. He knew you for a long time and ever since he know how you reacted, he knew the look when you were happy when you were looking at his brother with so much love in your eyes, but he also knew the look when you were moving out of Kylian's apartment. He knew it all, but he still wanted to have you back as his sister. As a person who will be there when his brother won't. Who will go to his games, take him to his favorite restaurant, and call his brother afterward to tell him how he played.

"I miss you Y/n." his expression changed as he realized how uncomfortable he made you. "I miss KyIian when he was with you, he is different now. It is not like when you two didn't know each other. I miss you in my life, in OUR lives." he started to play with the bottom of his shirt. You didn't have any words to say, as you would probably begin to cry, so you just leaned to him and wrapped his hands around his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry Ethan." you began. "I miss you and your whole family too, even Kylian. But there is nothing I can do about it. There were reasons why we didn't work out. Because we both deserve better. We deserve someone who will be able to give us their 100%, and who will support us 24/7. He needs someone who will be able to attend to the maximum of his matches and I need someone who will understand how important I is my work. That I am not the type of girlfriend that will sit all day alone at home just waiting on him to come from training. At least I am not like that now. I have my own dreams and goals, and as much as I would love to support him in his dreams I need someone to support me too." first tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it down so Ethan didn't notice. "I know we didn't see each other in the past months, but if it is what you want, I would love to be in a contact with you again." you finished.

"He doesn't know that I am with you now. He doesn't even know that you called me on my birthday Y/n, because if I told him he would be begging you right now to come back." he paused for a minute, making you think about his words. "He is a piece of shit since you two broke up, but it is even worse since the world cup. He was talking about you the whole morning."

"What?" as much as you need more time to process everything he was talking about, the fact that Kylian was today talking about you couldn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah, you know he sometimes sleeps at home, since he is complaining about how much is his apartment empty and silent without you and how that apartment is not his home, since the day you left. And he told me that he saw you yesterday, he was telling mum how beautiful and happy you looked, and how he wanted to start running after you when you closed the cab. But he also told us that you deserve to be happy, which you definitely are without him."

"I didn't know that Ethan." you had no idea how much the break up of the two of you affected Kylian. You thought that getting over it was much easier for him than for you. That he had these beautiful models in his DM's who were there to help if he wanted.

"I'm sorry for bringing him up Y/n." Ethan felt sorry for ruining the mood, he knew that there is no reason why to talk about his brother. As much as he wished for you two to get back together, he knew that this is not his business. Kylian should be the one to try and Ethan even though he tried, seeing you know he was sure that he didn't do a thing to get you back.

"It's fine Ethan, but let's watch Captain America now, ok?" you put your hand on his shoulder. "Do you want ice cream? I bought your favorite flavor from Ben and Jerry's." you tried your best to erase that tension from the room.

"Y/n you are the best." a smile appeared on his face.

"I know Ethan." you get up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

------------

After two hours and The First Avenger later you were eating some pasta you order for your lunch earlier. You told Ethan about your trip to London where you went in December, about the winter wonderland, which you were sure he would love. Ethan was also talking about his football season and about the World cup, but he didn't mention Kylian. Which you were glad for. He was talking about Qatar, its food, and how hot it actually was there. But he was also talking about his birthday party with his friends and everything that happened in his life since August.

It wasn't tension or awkward as it was at the start. This was chill, and fun as back in the days when the two of you used to hang up. The talking of you two was interrupted by Ethan's phone.

"That's Ky." his face froze the moment he looked at the screen.

"It's fine you can take it." you smiled, knowing that this won't hurt you. 

Ethan looked at you like he didn't want to believe you. "I really mean it." you slightly laughed. Ethan looked at his screen for a few seconds, looking like he was considering his options, but in the end, he picked up that call.

"Hey." Ethan wasn't a good liar, even from the tone he put on from the start you could tell that she was really nervous, and it would be even weirder if his own brother wouldn't notice.

"Hé, et si je t'emmenais déjeuner et qu'ensuite nous allions au cinéma voir le nouveau film Avatar ?" [Hey, how about I take you to lunch and then we go to the movies to see the new Avatar movie? ] you could hear Kylian's voice from the phone.

"Je suis dehors avec les garçons en ce moment.." [I'm out with the boys at the moment.] Ethan didn't sound convincing at all.

"Vous semblez être nerveux." [You seem to be nervous.] as you heard Kylian's laugh your heart ached. "Et si on y va le soir ? tu seras toujours avec les garçons ?" [ What if we go in the evening? Will you still be with the boys?]

"Je vais probablement rentrer tard." [I'll probably be home late.] he nervously chucked making more doubts in Kylian.

"Tu es un terrible menteur, mon frère." [You are a terrible liar, brother.] he laughed again. "Tu es avec une fille ?" [Are you with a girl?] Ethan's expression changed to a terrified face.

"Vous pourriez le dire comme ça." [You could say it like that.] Ethan tried to laugh as he looked scared into your eyes. You did your best not to burst out laughing.

"Alors je vais arrêter de te déranger, je t'appelle demain et tu me diras tout sur cette fille que tu aimes." [So I will stop bothering you now, I'll call you tomorrow and you will tell me everything about this girl you like.] After this sentence Ethan said goodbye to Kylian as soon as possible, hanging the phone up before Kylian was able to say goodbye back.

"That call was a nightmare in a real life." Ethan signed as you finally burst out laughing.

------------

The rest of the day went great, you pushed Kylian into the back of your mind. You enjoyed it too much. You even promised Ethan to go to his next game, if Kylian won't be attending. Ethan even joked about giving you his jersey which you could wear to that game. And you laughed. You lauged more than in the past months.

When Ethan left you ended up staring from your window into the courtyard. Now was the moment when Kylian got back into you mind. You didn't like it at all. Because since you came back from Christmas he was there almost 24/7 leaving you more and more confused.

But today you understood why he was there. He was there because of the things that Ethan had told you.

"Kylian was your safe place back then."

"He is a piece of shit since you two broke up..."

"He was talking about you the whole morning."

"...that apartment is not his home, since the day you left."

"...But he also told us that you deserve to be happy, which you definitely are without him."

Were you acually happy without him?

------------

Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444 @mrs-dasilvasantoss

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

Twinning

Panda’s Notes: Started this one in August last year. Could be wishful thinking, but I hope the boys get along when it's all over. Hope you guys like it. >w<

[Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

Miles Morales was down in the garage hidden below his uncle’s apartment. He nodded along to the beat coming through his headphones, humming the tune as he dismantled a motorcycle that he’d swiped after a fight with some cartel goons. If he took it apart fast enough, he wouldn’t have to tell his uncle how he’d gotten it back to base. He’d drained the gas and oil already, and he’d trashed most of the outer casings—If he wanted decorative junk, he could hit the body shop whenever—now, he was ripping the engine apart, switching between the wrenches and screwdrivers laid out beside him by just the feel of the handles.

He might have ignored his phone buzzing the first time. If it didn’t ring, it wasn’t his mom, and it wasn’t a worry. When it buzzed a fourth time within 20 minutes, he realized something was probably happening. He sucked his teeth as he wiped his hands down; the bike wasn’t exactly ripped up enough to say he’d gotten it from the scrapyard, but it would have to do if someone was looking for him. He tossed the towel aside and picked up his phone, tapping in his code and glancing the newest notifications—What the hell…?

Aaron: [Ayo, come get your cousin] Aaron: [He gettin on my last nerve] Me: [my wat]

His uncle didn’t respond. At least, he didn’t respond fast enough for the new rush of confusion that was filling Miles’ head. He grabbed his jacket and took the stairs two at a time. He was joking; he had to be. Right? Seriously… But, even then, who the hell would it be dropping in without giving Aaron time to…warn… him…?

Hm…

When he got up to the apartment, he might have slipped into Prowler mode without meaning to. Time slowed to a crawl, and all of the world became that one instant as he took in every altered piece of the room he could: There were two pizza boxes and a box of soda cans on the table beside the window. He didn’t recognize the brands on either of them. The punching bag was hoisted higher off the floor than he remembered, and the record player was spinning another old R&B track.

“Tio?” He called, slowly stepping forward. “Uncle Aaron!”

“Yeah, man?” His gaze whipped to the couch, and Aaron was just…there. He sat on the couch, using a game controller to beckon Miles closer as he sipped from a cup. “You good?”

Miles pouted, and his uncle smirked slightly; Aaron knew it would take nothing short of a bomb going off to pull him away from whatever thing he was tinkering with if he was in the garage. It wouldn’t be the first time a metaphorical one was used, but he hadn’t thought Aaron would lie to him like this.

“M’fine.” Miles insisted with a huff, reaching to close the door. “The hell was that text though? Just because I’m busy doesn’t mean you have t—”

The second the door clicked shut, Miles thought he heard a step behind him. Before he could spin around, he was bear-hugged from behind and lifted up. His legs flailed as he shouted, and he tried to swing his head back against whoever held him.

“Happy to see you too, tough guy.” Miles recognized that voice, and all the panic transformed into that funny emotion smack between relief and incomparable rage.

Of course it was him.

He heaved a sigh before muttering several strings of Spanish curses under his breath, and Aaron laughed a bit as he looked back at them.

-----------------

“So, this is my cousin now?” Miles—um, Earth-42 Miles? Uh, 42? Sure—42 asked in a huff once all three of them were on the couch with pizza on paper plates and colored cups filled with ice and soda.

Miles—1610 Miles. Yes, it was his turn with his own name—smirked around a bite of pizza and reached behind their uncle’s head to push him lightly. “Picking up a lot of attitude toward the guy who brought you free lunch.”

42 slapped his hand away, hiding the little grin on his face with his cup. “Nobody invited your sneaky ass to crawl all over our ceiling.”

“Uh, my ceiling? Thank you.” Aaron interjected, reaching back to smack both of their arms from behind his head. “And you left your little communicator up here when you went down to work. I told him he could drop in.”

“Ugggh, why?” 42 put on the most exaggerated tone, unable to resist the grin that took over his face as Aaron and Miles gave him almost matching looks. “You know I can’t stand him.”

Aaron just shrugged, and Miles put on that offended look. “He had pizza. And you needed to get out of that garage. I know you skipped breakfast this morning.”

42 was about to argue when Miles butt in. “Oho, you skipped breakfast?! I know Mami was pissed.”

“Best believe. She texted me probably the second he left.” Aaron gently elbowed 42’s side. “She knew you were coming over; you don’t got anywhere better to be? No cute little dates with that Ganke boy?”

Miles nearly choked as 42 tried to shout over both of them. “You’re dating Ganke?!”

“Ey, ey, ey! We—ugh! We haven’t put labels on it yet, alright?!” He insisted, blushing madly. “What’s it to you anyway, you ain’t met him!”

“Dude, I have a Ganke; he’s my roommate at school. My best friend.”

“Ew, you live in one of those shoebox rooms? Could not be me.”

“Deflecting!” Miles pointed aggressively and laughed around some comments in broken Spanish while 42 sipped smugly and looked away.

“What about you though? You kissed your boy yet?” Aaron asked without looking at either of them.

42 coughed hard as Miles balked. “Aaron!!” It was almost eerie how their voices were exactly the same sometimes. Aaron just snickered, tossing his game controller casually onto the table.

“Ya’ll do a lot of bickering for supposedly being the same person.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

42 rolled his eyes, wiping the side of his mouth. “Please. I’m still not convinced it’s not some kind of bullshit half the time. As if I’m anything like this goody-two-shoes dork.”

Miles snorted, crossing his arms. “Is that really all you got, eh? Disney channel lookin’ ass.”

“You wanna fuckin’ go, cuz?” 42 pulled his legs up onto the couch, attempting to lunge at Miles when Aaron caught him around the waist. He flailed for a moment, and Miles sneered. “Ay, let me go; the punk has it coming anyw—Wait, wait, don’t you dare!”

Aaron had shifted one hand, letting his fingers crawl gently on the back of 42’s ribs just below his shoulder blades. And Miles’ face lit up in shock as his doppelganger fell into near-hysterical laughter.

“No way, seriously?!” He snorted, and Aaron gave a slight smirk as he tried to keep his flailing nephew from squirming away from him.

“Oh, you’re surprised?” He chuckled, scribbling up between 42’s shoulders and pulling him close before he could flail his shrieky self onto the floor. “His mom always called it—”

“Angel Wings!” Miles said at the same time as Aaron, laughing softly as his eyes lit up at the memory. “Man, I can’t believe it; that never worked on me.”

42 glared at both of them as he was more or less dropped back onto the couch cushion, and Miles couldn’t tell if it was just anger or a sort of envy. “Bullshit. You have to be fuckin’ lying.”

“Pfft, well—” Miles stammered a bit, looking away in slight embarrassment. “Not half as bad as it gets you, clearly—Hey!” He dodged to one side as an unopened soda can launched past his head, barely managing to snag it with his web shooter before it hit something.  

“’Ey, chill.” Aaron said lightly, sneaking another tickle on 42’s back as he wrapped his arm around him. “Wildin’ out all the time… Staying in that garage all day is not helping you relax.”

“I don’t need to relax!” 42 barked out suddenly, only to cringe and cross his arms as he pouted. He took a few deep breaths, sighing when Aaron pat him on the head.

“Somethin’ you need to talk about?”

42 glanced between the two of them, and Miles leaned slightly to see his face. He let out a final sigh and shook his head. “Just stressed…” He admitted with a shrug. “Tired, maybe?”

Aaron hummed, nodding as he squeezed 42’s shoulder.

Miles let out a sigh of his own, setting down his cup before resting his chin on one hand. “Think we should call Ganke to cuddle with you?” He asked gently, letting the smirk grow on his face at the incredulous look 42 gave him.

“Nah, yeah, that’s three strikes.” Aaron chuckled, shrugging when Miles balked. “You can kill him.”

42 sneered, and Miles flailed slightly, about to run off when Aaron sneakily grabbed his ankle. His escape was disrupted just enough that 42 was able to tackle him off of the couch. They wrestled for a moment, with Miles quickly gaining the upper hand with his Spider strength…right up until 42 shoved his hands under Miles’ arms. Miles shrieked, pulling his arms in tight and kicking against the floor as he cackled. 42 balked for a second, his eyes and smile brightening.

“No fuckin’ way; you were actually right, you little shit.” He laughed, pressing his thumbs into Miles’ ribs.

“I-I’m taller than you!” Miles managed out between his laughter.

“You—!”

Aaron chuckled as Miles squealed, and he grabbed his game controller again while they fought. It wasn’t much of a fight for long—one of them did have super-strength, after all—but it was nice that his nephews were finally having fun.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 8: January I

{{ Chapter 7: December I | Chapter 9: February I }} Chapter Directory

fun fact i had this chapter written back in like may

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, strangers to lovers, alcohol, college-typical parties ✧ word count ➼ ~5.4k

It was already 3:00am and Levi found himself frowning at his bedroom window. He knew that he was going to get even less sleep than usual due to the fireworks that would be going off throughout the night, but it was particularly annoying because the constant bombardment of the colorful explosions in the night sky would also distract him from being able to continue reading his papers. He had set aside time throughout winter break to catch up so that he would be prepared for his research update presentation in April. It was still a few months away, so he knew he had time, but he would prefer to have the heavy reading out of the way before the semester started up again.

However, given the events of the past few weeks, he found himself annoyingly behind on the schedule that he set himself. It seemed that every time he dedicated a night to get caught up on work, he would find something come up that needed his immediate attention. Last week, it was that Hange's friend that promised to petsit their hamsters was suddenly unavailable, so Levi had to sub in for them. The week before, it was when you called him drunk crying over the phone and he had to spend the night with you at a diner to try to get you to sober up so that you could actually speak coherently over what had happened. It seemed like the world was throwing everything at him to prevent him from finishing anything related to actually securing his PhD.

He set the packet of papers down onto his desk with a sigh and shut his eyes as he rubbed at his forehead after another set of fireworks were set off outside, contributing to his rapidly approaching headache. His eyes opened again when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. 

Levi pulled his phone out and turned on the screen, cursing when his phone lit up with the brightness turned all the way up, setting his vision on fire. 

A frown was already plastered onto his face once he finally got to opening your text message.

> [Matcha Girl (3:04am)]: levi can u come pick me up > [levi (3:05am)]: From where, it's 3am. > [levi (3:05am)]: Also no, it's 3am. > [Matcha Girl (3:10am)]: oh cmon it's not liketou sleep anyway > [levi (3:12am)]: You're drunk, aren't you? > [Matcha Girl (3:15am)]: noooo > [Matcha Girl (3:15am)]: a lil > [Matcha Girl (3:15am)]: just toiiipsy > [Matcha Girl (3:18am)]: leviii PLSLAEEASE idk where i amm > [Matcha Girl (3:19am)]: n my phones about to die > [levi (3:21am)]: You're so annoying.

Levi sighed to himself as he rolled his eyes. He got up, internally questioning why he always felt the need to get you out of these stupid, shitty situations. He was already in outdoor clothes since he wasn't planning on sleeping tonight anyway, so he just had to grab his jacket and brace himself for the cold.

He shot you another text.

> [levi (3:25am)]: Where's the last place you remember being?

He frowned at your lack of a response. He usually wasn't one to get impatient while texting, but this wasn't just an everyday situation in which he was checking in with you. However, given the events of the past two months, his instincts told him that your delay in responding was indicative of bad news. 

Levi immediately pressed the call button, tapping his finger against the back of his phone in anticipation as he waited for you to respond, hoping that your phone hadn't died yet. There was no answer.

> [levi (3:30am)]: _____, answer the phone.

Frustrated at your lack of a response, he shot you another text message. Your phone had rung, so he knew that your phone wasn't dead. His mind immediately began wandering over the reasons why you weren't answering: maybe you were distracted, maybe you lost your phone, maybe you got into trouble. He immediately pressed the call button again, tensing up once he heard your voice mailbox message again.

> [levi (3:32am)]: _____

Feeling increasingly pressured, he immediately shot you another text. You had been fairly quick in responding to him in the past, so an increasingly heavy feeling began to build in his gut as he continued to wait for a response that wasn't coming. He called again. There was no answer.

> [levi (3:35am)]: For fucks sake

He called you again. There was still no answer.

"For fucks sake," he repeated out loud, immediately heading out the door, speed-walking through the dimly lit lobby, grimacing once he opened the door to the outdoors parking lot as the cold air hit his face. The sky was clear and there was no wind, but the winter night was chilly enough that he was relieved when he finally pulled himself into the car and turned on the heat. 

Luckily, there was no snow or ice on the ground, so he didn't have to deal with defrosting. He just needed to turn on the car, turn on the heat, and then drive to wherever you were. The hard part was finding out exactly where you were.

Of all the scenarios he had imagined for himself for his second year in the graduate program, this was not one of them. He never imagined that he would drag himself out of the house on a freezing winter night at 3 in the morning to go rescue some drunk undergrad from a New Year's Eve party that went too far—but you weren't just some drunk undergrad. You were his roommate and someone that he now begrudgingly called a friend. He'd have to deal with your bullshit in the morning whether he came to pick you up or not. At least he'd be able to do some sort of damage control if he went to pick you up now instead of waiting for you to pop up in the morning at the front door.

He pulled out his phone again and looked through your text messages, scrolling up to see if you had mentioned the party you were planning on going to tonight to him earlier. You didn't.

He stared at the last text that he sent you.

> [levi (3:35am)]: For fucks sake

He recalled how you had called him last month, drunk and in tears over something shitty that your friend said that reopened some old wounds that had appeared a month prior. While that situation had resolved itself, the way that you were essentially incoherent as he tried to ground you from all your chaotic thoughts did not give him confidence in how you were coping with the situation you found yourself in now. 

"Shit," he muttered to himself underneath his breath. He couldn't get this heavy feeling to go away. He couldn't trust that you didn't throw yourself into another shitty situation. The last thing he wanted to do was drive around the town through crowds of drunk students to find you, but he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he dragged your ass home.

The new year had just passed, so there were plenty of New Year's parties littered around campus. Levi briefly recalled you mentioning a party you had gotten invited to and were excited to attend. He found himself frowning at the fact that you likely went alone or somehow got separated from your friends, who would also be too drunk to be reliable in locating you. 

"What a pain in the ass," he muttered, cranking up the heat in the car, with it barely being able to keep up with the cold seeping in from the outside.

Your dumb ass better have dressed up warmly enough to be wandering around in this shit.

He paused for a second upon having that thought. As much as it irritated him, he couldn't deny that he was deeply concerned for your safety and well-being. He was adamant on ignoring you and possibly finding another place to live once the lease renewals came around when you first started living together, but that intent was nowhere to be found now. He did enjoy having you as a roommate, even if you were a constant pain in the ass to him.

Levi sighed as he scrolled through the socials that he knew you frequented to see if he could get any clue as to where you were, but there were so many parties going on around town that it would be difficult to track you down. He never would have imagined himself sitting in the cold playing detective in the middle of the night. No matter what he did, he couldn't get his concern over your state of being out of his head. There were too many wild cards.

The streets immediately off-campus were nowhere near safe enough for you to be wandering alone while shit-faced. He didn't trust you to not get lost on a bus route. Even the parties themselves were not safe, given how wild some of the undergrads can get. If your phone really was dead, you wouldn't be able to call an Uber or even the police in case something happened. 

His thumb hovered over his phone as he noticed that he had stopped scrolling, being lost in his head over all the things that could have gone wrong throughout the course of the night.

"God fucking dammit, _____," he cursed to himself, tossing his phone into the cup holder in between the driver's and passenger's seats before shifting the gears in the car to officially begin his journey of perusing through the town to figure out where you were.

~~~~~

In the end, Levi found himself walking through the cold, his hands buried into his coat pockets as he pushed his way past the undergrads that were too drunk to feel the cold. He had been driving around campus for around an hour, stopping periodically at the bigger parties to ask if anyone had seen you around. Although most of the undergrads were absolutely shit-faced, every party had at least one sober contact that was on bouncer duty or standing around, looking as irritated as he would be if put in that situation.

"There's way too many people coming in and out for me to remember her," one would say.

"I dunno, I might have seen her around. She your girlfriend or something?" others would say.

"No, she's my roommate and I'm going to take your answer as a no," Levi responded in reference to his question as to whether they had seen you.

Some of the other undergrads he had asked had more than distasteful commentary upon him pulling up your picture, with some asking if he had "lost control of you" and let you get too into the party, which immediately placed a scowl on Levi's face.

"She can fucking take care of herself, you ass."

Levi found himself being oddly defensive at some of the distasteful comments coming from some of the younger undergrads. Those comments would have pissed him off no matter who they were directed at, but he found himself especially pissed off when they were directed at you. 

After approaching his fourth or fifth house party, he eventually caught word of a parade that ended at a food truck festival downtown. He vaguely recalled that one night in that diner in which you chatted about being an emotional eater and gravitating towards food whenever you were intoxicated. It wasn't a clear lead, but you at least had a higher chance of being there than sticking around at one of these rowdy parties. 

As he approached downtown, the crowd got thicker, so he had to find street parking a block or two away and walk on foot to where the food trucks were. The one positive from being in a crowded area was that everyone's close proximity kept them (Levi included) warm due to their own body heat, although being this close to people grossed him out. He knew that there were certainly pathogens flying around everywhere from how close people were to each other with no regards for personal space. 

He looked up as soon as he began to smell food and saw the line-up of trucks that had merchants desperately trying to keep up with the drunk, hungry students that were sinking their money into overpriced food at 4 in the morning. He pulled out his phone again to see if you had texted him back.

You didn't.

~~~~~

Why do the lines have to be so long?

That was the only thought that was running through your head. You had been wandering down the line of food trucks in hopes of finding something that both satisfied your drunk cravings and wasn't packed with other students. You finally found one (sort of) at the very end.

It was a hot dog stand that had a line of around 5-6 people, which was pretty short compared to the 15-20 people that crowded every other truck. You felt yourself begin to salivate at the prospect of finally getting some food and reached your hand into your pocket to dig out some cash so you can get yourself a hot dog.

Your hand brushed against your phone and you frowned in confusion, recalling a blurry memory about texting your grumpy roommate about a ride.

How long ago was that? Did it even happen? 

Deciding that you cared at the moment a bit more about getting the hot dog than you were about checking in on Levi (when you weren't even sure if you actually texted him or not), you continued to fumble around until you finally pulled out a small wad of cash.

The hot dog was within reach.

"_____!"

You thought you heard someone vaguely call your name, but by the time it registered in your mind, you were pushing your way past some of the stragglers that weren't in line to get up to the hot dog stand. Nothing was getting in between you and your hot dog.

"_____!" that someone called out again, a bit more urgently this time.

You turned around to see who it was that was trying to get your attention.

However, since you were already moving forward with quite a bit of momentum and since your ability to balance yourself was a bit compromised due to the alcohol, you quickly found yourself tumbling towards the ground.

However, before you could hit the ground, a sturdy arm wrapped itself around your back, preventing you from falling straight onto your ass. You finally looked up and looked into the intense, gray eyes of your grumpy roommate.

"The least you can do is to try to watch your step, you dumbass."

A small smile appeared on your face as your eyes lit up upon seeing him.

"Hi," you said, sounding slightly dazed without taking your eyes off him. "Have I ever told you your eyes are really pretty?"

Levi raised his eyebrows at your comment, shooting an unamused expression your way.

"Your face too," you continued.

Levi rolled his eyes.

"You're drunk."

"No," you said defensively, "just tipsy! Just, tipsy."

You took a breath mid-sentence, feeling winded after losing your balance. 

"What a pain in the ass," he grumbled as he lifted his arm to get you back on your feet. "Get up. We're leaving."

"Why?" you asked, tilting your head.

"Did you not ask me to pick you up?" 

You blinked at him a few times as you recalled that the memory of you texting him actually did happen and wasn't just a figment of your drunken imagination.

"Oh yeah, I guess I did."

"For fuck's sake," Levi said with an exasperated sigh before whispering underneath his breath, "and to think I got all worried for nothing."

"What was that?" you asked, having gotten distracted by the person at the front of line receiving their order. 

"I said you're a fucking pain in the ass," he spat. "Let's go."

He nudged you in the opposite direction and then glared at you when you provided resistance.

"But I want a hot dog," you said with a pout, looking genuinely upset at the thought of not being able to get your long-awaited meal.

"At this hour?"

"Yes!"

Levi groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, almost unable to believe that of all the situations he had imagined while searching for you, that this was the one that actually occurred. 

"Fine," he said with another exasperated sigh. "But you're eating it before we get into the car."

He barely finished his sentence before he briefly lost his ability to breathe when you basically body slammed into him with a tight hug. His eyes widened a bit, not expecting the sudden act of affection. 

"My hot dog hero," you said quietly before pulling off of him, eyes gleaming.

He rolled his eyes at you again, shrugging you off of him before pulling out his wallet and walking up to the food stand.

You stared at him, a smile appearing on your face as your cheeks warmed up.

Levi, who irritated you beyond belief the minute you started interacting with him and who made sure that you knew that he felt the same way towards you, was here, standing in the cold in the middle of the night, buying you a fucking hot dog. It seemed silly, but it made your heart flutter.

No one's really gone out of the way for you like this before. 

It was silly—but it meant a lot to you.

Your eyes glimmered as he shoved the hot dog into your hands. 

"Let's go."

~~~~~

It was nearly 4:30am at this point, so the crowds were starting to clear. You barely felt the cold on your way to Levi's car.  All you could focus on was the warm hot dog in your hands. Every bite you took felt like bliss. You weren't lying when you said that you were an emotional eater. If nothing could bring you happiness, at least food could.

"Hope that shit at least sobers you up," Levi muttered, looking back at you as you continued to happily munch on it.

You noticed him looking and nodded.

"-think so," you said, your voice slightly muffled since your mouth was full.

You immediately saw Levi's face scrunch up in disgust. Feeling your face heat up in embarassment, you instantly covered your mouth with your free hand before muttering a quiet, "sorry". 

Once you finally got into the car, you realized how cold your body was and you felt yourself instantly relax upon the heat coming on and washing your freezing body with warmth. The hot dog had sobered you up at this point and you smiled to yourself as you felt the rumbling of the car as Levi began to drive home.

"Hmm," you muttered to yourself as you watched the night lights pass through the passenger window.

"What?" Levi asked, glancing over at you real quick.

"Why is driving with you always so relaxing?"  you asked, as you pulled up your memory of the drive you had together in November after the not-so-pleasant encounter with your aunt.

"What are you talking about?"

"In November," you said, looking towards him, "when you drove me around because I was upset and-"

Your words were interrupted as you brought your arm up to sneeze into your elbow, facing away from Levi.

Levi groaned.

"You better not be getting sick."

"Nope," you said with a sniffle.

Levi grunted, not really believing you.

After driving for a few minutes in silence, you shuffled around in your seat, an uncomfortable feeling arising in your throat. You knew it wasn't due to the drinking, you've suffered through that enough times to know your limit. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety, guilt, shame, or all three.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking down towards your knees.

"Hmm?"

He had heard you, but didn't quite know how to respond himself.

"For picking me up," you clarified. "I'm sorry I made you come out so late."

Levi looked over at you, the look in his eyes softening as you continued to stare at your knees, afraid to look at him.

"Just don't make a habit out of this," he said, bringing his eyes back to the road. "I can't drop everything to go looking for you all the fucking time."

A small smile pulled on the edges of your lips.

"You dropped everything to come find me?"

The question was directed towards yourself as much as it was at him.

"You know what I mean."

You didn't respond, but you couldn't hide the growing smile on your face.

He cared. He really did care. Even with how annoyed he was with you 24/7, Levi Ackerman really did care for your well-being and that was enough to make you smile like an idiot. You didn't have very many people in your life that you could confidently say that they cared.

Levi glanced over at you, noticing that you fell silent. 

Tonight was not a good night. Levi had been forced out of the house at 3am and had been on panic mode all night out of fear that you had gotten yourself into a stupid situation when you had just gotten lost while wandering around looking for a fucking hot dog stand. He was annoyed beyond belief—but also incredibly relieved that you were okay. Everything was okay.

A frown grew on his face and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as an irritating thought popped up in his head: he didn't trust himself to not do this again. 

If you texted him tomorrow with the exact same messages, he didn't trust himself to not immediately worry for your safety and then wander out to find you again. He really was depending on you to not make a habit out of this.

Once you finally got home, you immediately planted yourself face-first onto the couch. You were exhausted. The alcohol was wearing off, the headache was coming on, and you felt yourself barely able to keep your eyes open or move another muscle. You weren't making it into your bed tonight.

You felt something soft land on you and looked up. Levi had tossed a throwover blanket in your direction, seemingly in sync with your thought that you were just going to crash on the couch tonight.

"Just don't get sick on the floor," Levi muttered quietly before walking away towards him bedroom. "I'm going to bed."

"Night," you said quietly, shooting him a lazy wave with your hand as you placed your head down onto the couch pillow, hugging the blanket as you slowly drifted off into sleep.

Levi sighed and glanced back at you right before reaching his bedroom. He couldn't tell what he was feeling. He was relieved, pissed, and annoyed at the same time. He was glad you were okay, pissed that you got yourself into a shitty situation, and annoyed at himself for getting as worried as he did. 

"For fuck's sake," he whispered to himself again as he stepped into the bedroom, unable to shake this feeling off, hoping that sleep would help it normalize out, and that he'd wake up tomorrow morning with the events of tonight becoming a distant, detached memory.

~~~~~

You felt like your head was literally on fire. Opening your eyes—even to your dimly lit living room—set them on fire. 

You buried your face into the couch pillow, desperately pleading that your hangover would just go away so you wouldn't have to deal with this all day. After a few minutes with no sign of your hangover disappearing, you slowly turned your head towards the coffee table and forced yourself to peel your eyes open.

It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust and you had to blink a few times—which did not help your headache.

How did I get home?

You had vague recollections of what had happened the night prior. You remembered panicking on your way to a food truck festival before texting Levi, but you didn't remember much after that. 

Your eyes fell onto the dining table and you blinked a few times at what you found.

There was a cup of coffee on the table, sitting in a thermos to keep warm, as well as a cup of water, and two tablets of Tylenol. You forced yourself to sit up and saw that the coffee thermos was sitting on a piece of paper with a note written on it.

[For the hangover. PS. Your phone's on the kitchen table charging.]

Your face started to heat up as more memories of what happened the night before began to arise. 

Levi had driven out to you to pick you up when he had no idea where you were to begin with. He had dragged himself out of the house in the middle of the night into the freezing cold just to find you, when you weren't in any actual danger. You then vaguely remembered looking into his eyes before drunkenly telling him that he was pretty.

You groaned and placed your face in the palm of your hand, trying to get rid of the rising embarrassment that you were beginning to feel.

Luckily, Levi had left for the day to go do lab work, which meant that you didn't have to deal with the consequences of your shenanigans right this minute.

You grabbed the coffee and sniffed at it. Levi said he didn't make the specialty coffees at his café, but he was still able to whip up a pretty good batch. You gently took a sip of it before immediately wincing once the hot liquid hit your lips.

You cursed to yourself as you put the thermos back down, having not expected the beverage to still be as hot as it was. You quickly switched over to the cup of water to cool off your burning mouth, promptly taking the two Tylenol tablets afterwards to attempt to soothe your headache.

You threw the blanket that you had wrapped yourself in to the side and slowly pushed yourself off the couch, groaning as your head pounded in protest. You slowly made your way over to the kitchen table, rubbing your forehead in an attempt to soothe the pain.

You picked up your phone and checked the time: 11am. Since it was still in the middle of winter break, you didn't have to worry about classes or important obligations for the day.

Having decided that staying awake while working through this headache wasn't worth it, you dragged yourself into your bedroom, shut your blinds, and collapsed into your bed so that you could sleep the hangover off.

~~~~~

It had been a week since you found yourself wandering in the middle of the night during a freezing winter's night after getting fixated on food after attending a New Year's party. You had insisted that you weren't getting sick as a result of it, but that was getting further and further from the truth.

You sneezed again into your elbow, grimacing when you saw Levi glance over at you. You were sitting at the kitchen table on your laptop, attempting to write more of the light novel that was required for you to graduate, and Levi was on the couch, catching up on the papers that he hadn't been able to read. 

"Thought you said you weren't getting sick," he said without looking up at you.

"I'm not," you said, scowling at him for a few seconds before glancing back down at your computer. You squinted your eyes at your screen, trying to remember what your train of thought was before you had been rudely interrupted by your body requiring you to sneeze. 

You felt yourself getting increasingly frustrated at your inability to focus on writing. The words weren't really coming together—you couldn't tell the difference between affect and effect, then and than, how to use a semi-colon properly, or if your dialogue to exposition ratio was balanced. You weren't getting anything done at this rate.

After hearing nothing from silence from you, Levi glanced up at you.

"You've been staring at your screen without moving for like ten minutes at this point. Go to bed."

"Hmm?" you said as you shook your head, snapping yourself out of your daze. "It's only 8."

You sneezed into your elbow again.

A frown appeared on Levi's face.

"If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to have to wear a hazmat suit just to come home."

"God, not everyone's a clean freak like you, Lev'," you said as you rolled your eyes at him.

He gave you a deadpan expression upon you using your nickname for him. It wasn't that different from his actual name and you had just started using it after he came to pick you up. It weirded him out last week when you used it for the first time, but he did find it endearing in a way.

"You're sick," Levi emphasized again.

"No I'm not-" you began retorting before being interrupted with your itchy throat that prompted some coughing that you failed to suppress.

Levi simply stared at you, raising his eyebrows again.

"Okay fine," you mumbled. "I think I caught a cold, probably from running around last week during New Years."

"Wonder whose fault that was," Levi mumbled.

You frowned at Levi and threw a clumped up wad of paper at him across the room.

He immediately caught it and chucked it back at you. You were slow to react and it bounced off your head as you looked back at him with an irritated expression.

Levi sighed as you continued to glare at him.

"How much writing have you gotten done in the past hour?"

You were reluctant to respond, so you didn't.

"Go to bed," Levi said again.

You let out a defeated sigh before gently closing your laptop. Now that you've had a minute to think, you realized that Levi was right. You felt absolutely horrible. Your head was pounding, your sinuses were so inflamed that you felt it in your eyes, and you felt chills incoming, which meant that a fever was approaching.

You shot an annoyed look towards Levi as you walked past the couch into the kitchen, placing your tea mug into the sink. 

"Always gotta be so bossy," you grumbled underneath your breath as you turned away from him and walked towards your bedroom.

"I heard that, you brat," Levi responded without looking up at you.

You turned around and stuck your tongue out at him, which earned you a prompt eye roll. 

By the time you actually collapsed into bed, your body was more than ready to pass out. You were lucky that Levi called you out when he did, as it saved you from having to embarrass yourself in front of him and be subjected to being taken care of by him again. Last week was enough. 

You couldn't get that memory out of your head.

~~~~~

The next time that you opened your eyes, you were completely wrapped up in your blanket, encasing yourself in a cocoon. Your head was pounding and your breath was warm. As soon as you reached your arm out of your blanket to reach for your phone, you felt a chill run through your body.

You were most definitely sick—and likely with a fever.

Fuck. I really can't afford this right now.

You groaned as you rolled yourself out of your comfortable cocoon and forced yourself to stand, having to hold onto your nightstand for balance at the sudden movement. Your body was protesting at your every movement. 

You glanced around the room with a frown, annoyed that you left your laptop out in the dining room instead of bringing it to your room so that you could work while in bed. 

You held your head in a vain attempt to soothe it as you took a few steps forward towards your door, pausing when you stepped on a piece of paper. It was a note.

You bent over and picked it up, squinting so that you could read what it said without having to turn on your obnoxiously bright ceiling lamp. 

[Made a cup of tea for you on the kitchen table near your computer. Don't burn yourself this time.

P.S. If I catch you working while you're still sick, I'm tossing your computer out the window.]

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman

[scarrabear]

QUOGAN HEADCANONS PART 1

Hi hello <3 first time post from me on this account. I realized I had a lot of thoughts of my own on these two dweebs and I LOVE reading everyone else's thoughts, so I'm being brave and sharing my own. :)

Yes it's long and there will be a part 2. I talk a lot lol. Feel free to send me asks or recs if you want more :)

While Secretly Dating

They would text each other every single morning with Logan saying things along the lines of "good morning beautiful <3" and Quinn saying "good morning cutie :)". Sometimes these messages would cause them to giggle and/or blush leading their respective roommates to question what they were looking at.

Meetings at their secret hiding spots would take place nearly every morning, in between most classes, and every night. This was both of their favorite parts of the day because it's where they could talk, flirt, vent, and yes, make-out. (Michael & James notice that Logan always shows up to their first class completely giddy and when they try to tease him about it, Logan simply shuts them down with a snark comment.)

While at meals with their friends, the two would secretly try and play footsie or touch fingertips under the table.

Around the second or third month of them secretly dating (show canon: in-between Coffee Cart Ban and Chasing Zoey), they start experimenting with kissing, i.e, French kissing, necking, ear kisses, and even leaving small hickies. Quinn is the one who wants to try the latter to which Logan was nervous, excited, and turned on. Hesitant, they leave small ones on areas of the shoulder that can be covered by sleeves. Logan really likes having his ear nibbled and neck kissed especially while Quinn touches his head. Quinn realizes she loves being spoiled with kisses all over her face and neck.

Sometimes after basketball practice, if Logan is sore Quinn would insist on giving him massages.

Logan realizes how turned on he gets whenever Quinn talks about science or shares a fun fact. One day Quinn is helping Zoey fix her Jet-X and Lola almost catches him drooling.

Yes, dating Quinn doses cause Logan to improve his grades. This is something he does willingly because he truly wants to be the best version of himself for her. I imagine the first Michael & James walk in on him truly studying they are visibly shocked. Every time Logan gets an A or B on an assignment he proudly tells Quinn to which she is equally as ecstatic.

^^ Quinn also finds Logan studying hot.

They leave little notes for each other in their backpacks or textbooks.

For prom, when they agree to take different people as dates, Logan begs Quinn to tell him what color dress she plans to wear because he wants to match his pocket square. (You can see in the show that he's wearing one to match even while he was with Stacey.)

Openly Dating: JR Year Summer

Lola/Zoey and Chase/Michael/James sat Logan down separately and made sure his intentions were not to take advantage of Quinn. Both of those sessions lasted about 5 minutes until they realized that Logan was truly in love with her.

Yes, their friends (lovingly) teased them about their relationship. Lola and Zoey made sure to shut down anyone around campus that judged them or made harsh remarks.

Chase and ESPECIALLY Michael were beyond happy for them (Michael apologized for laughing in their faces when they tried to tell him they were dating months ago).

Logan cried when Quinn went back home to Seattle.

Quinn asked to take one of his t shirts with her back home to which Logan requested one of her jackets.

They spoke on the phone every single day, usually in the morning and at night. Quinn liked to fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

Quinn works as a camp counselor for a science day camp for children.

Quinn visited Logan (Malcolm Reese & Chauncey remembered her which made her happy) mid June for a week to which she got to meet Lyric (age 5-9 years old) for the first time.

Quinn brought Lyric a few Magic Tree House books and a mini science kit as a gift.

While in California, Logan, Mr. Reese, and baby Lyric showed Quinn around Los Angeles (movie sets, Disneyland, museums, and shopping.)

Logan and Quinn take Lyric to see Kung fu Panda in theaters.

Lyric is immediately fond of Quinn and wants to be as smart as her. She even draws a picture of Quinn as a scientist and gives it to her before she goes home.

It makes Logan's heart all fuzzy and gives his stomach butterflies seeing Quinn and Lyric interact.

Malcolm and Chauncey catch Logan drooling over Quinn multiple times and never fail to tease him.

Logan takes Quinn on a romantic dinner date on the beach and gives her a heart necklace that has their initials and the date they officially started dating engraved.

Quinn gifts him a portable hand held mirror that she quinnvented before she arrived. The mirror also has his name engraved along with the date they shared their first kiss. It has adjustable lighting and various settings such as a zoom feature and background blurring to focus more on his reflection.

For 4th of July that summer, Logan visits Quinn and her family in Seattle. She was nervous at first because her house is notably smaller than what he is used to but Logan was quite happy and comfortable and assured her that he didn't care about her wealth.

Logan is nervous as hell to meet Quinn's parents and her Bubbe (she had to explain to him the meaning of the word and is surprised and flattered how much Logan wants to know about her family's history.)

The Pensky family shows Logan around Seattle and he's shocked at how cool the Washington air is. He loves the trees and the mountains. His favorite activity is going whale watching.

Bubbe teaches Logan some of her Jewish recipes. The two form a close bond.

Quinn shows Logan photos and videos from her beauty pageant days but he's more interested in seeing the collection of her childhood science experiments.

SR Year - SR Year Summer

Logan replaced the photo of himself he normally kept on the dorm wall with one Bubbe took of him & Quinn in Seattle. (They're smiling at each other while he's hugging her from behind.) On the wall next to his top bunk are a collection of smaller photos. Some of just him, some of just Quinn, but mainly solo ones of Quinn.

Quinn keeps a mini scrapbook in one of her bed cubbies that has her favorite photos of Logan and notes that he wrote her from last year.

Lola & Vince break up at some point which leads to Lola & Zoey having a moment where they are jealous of Quinn & Logan's relationship. They get over it...eventually.

Quinn is granted early acceptance into Caltech and Logan takes her out to celebrate (also they make-out in a hammock)

Logan gets into UCLA on his own accord (his dad did not buy his way in) to major in business and minor in chemistry. PCA's head chemistry teacher wrote Logan a stellar letter of recommendation. He also took a few science ACTs (and did exceptionally well) at the beginning of senior year to help boost his chances.

For Logan's birthday, Quinn gifts him his own golf club set that she quinnvented. The clubs are perfectly designed for his height, grip, and other golf terms I don't know enough about.

For Quinn's birthday, Logan rents out sushi Rox for the night and and throws a surprise party for her. He has the party end 30 minutes early so he and Quinn can have the place to themselves so they can slow dance. Michael plays the flute for them.

For their one year anniversary, they have a moonlight picnic. Quinn makes him a personalized cologne (one of you lovelies said this and I 100% agree!!!) and his own zap watch but with baby settings with their anniversary date and the message "I love you" engraved.

Logan bought her a personalized lab coat, a designer lab bag, and dozens of flowers.

They do it *stream ChloexHalle* on their anniversary weekend in Logan's dorm room (he paid Michael & Chase to stay out of the room that night).

They're both nervous at first but as soon as they're in each other's arms, love and a whole lot of lust takes over. All they want to do is please the other.

Quinn is obviously valedictorian and her speech makes Logan the proudest he had ever felt up until that point.

Logan sent Quinn's mother and Bubbe flowers for mothers day (to which he would continue to do in the future)

In the summer, Quinn visited Logan's family again for a week to which Lyric was beyond excited.

At night, the two would sneak into each other's bedrooms for intimate moments. This is when they would really discover their pleasures and what they like/don't like in bed.

So yeah. Thanks for reading if you got this far!!!!! Sending everyone love <3

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - They Meet Again pt. 2

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage. This is the one where fate plays games and Sammy plays Cupid. Part 3.5 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 1.4k+

Warnings - lil swearing

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona

A/N - Hello lovelies. Been in a writing slump. This is short-ish. Apologies if it's not too good. I had to get it out of my system to jumpstart my neurons. Not proofread.

“No, but if you resell it, you’ll get a good price,” Jaehyeong exclaimed.

“Are you sure it’s not a dupe?” you asked, chugging the last bit of drink in your glass.

Hoseok shook his head vehemently across the table and reached out to grab the lapel of the jacket in question, the one Dojoon was wearing now. He turned it inside out to show the lining where there was a textured material. “You can fake it down to the buttons, but not this.”

The jacket had gone around the room and everyone was fascinated by your kind knight-in-fancy-designer-jacket kitten rescue story.

They were equally amused by you being stood up by said knight. All of them had their theories - Jaehyeong claimed that the stranger was too rich to remember about the jacket, which Hajoon agreed with. Therefore, selling it on a second-hand fashion website was fair.

Dojoon claimed that the knight in question did not bother going back for the jacket because it probably was a gift or reminded him of a former lover and instead considered the opportunity of the jacket being used as a temporary kitten carrier by a stranger as good riddance. Yijeong agreed with him. Yijeong was Dojoon’s twin from another mother. They have been friends for a long time. They often agreed about a lot of things.

Sammy and Hoseok, however, blasted this guy-they-did-not-know the moment you told them that you waited almost 2 hours at the cafe, convincing yourself every 15 minutes to wait for another 15, on the off chance that he was stuck in traffic or whatever. Eventually, you thought a third cup of coffee would be a bit much that late in the evening and you also did not want to fill yourself up with bagels since you already had dinner plans.

Sammy called him several colourful alternatives of “jerk” every time the stranger was brought up. Hoseok passed you the chicken bucket and said, “It’s behaviour like this that shows, you can’t buy character.”

The only one who was quiet on the issue - who just nodded curtly to every opinion on the table - the one who downed seven of his nine big pegs till now in a single swig, was Yoongi. His silence on the issue was seen by his friends as a) him being shy in front of the new person joining them that evening, b) him not giving a fuck about the matter.

His silence and aversion of gaze every time it met yours was, however, read by you as disinterested, bordering on dismissive. Before you were a couple of drinks in, looking at Yoongi and trying to interact with him gave you weird little knots in your stomach.

It wasn’t you feeling intimidation or being starstruck. Age and years of being friends with Sammy had made you immune to celebrity vanity. Of course, you knew who Min Yoongi was. You loved his music and have been the longest fan of his group. When Sammy initially told you about the plan for the night, you had screeched hard enough to spook Woolfie out of his nap.

[His idea was to introduce you to some of his friends in Seoul to help you find your circle here, in case you connected with some of them. Not that he patronised your socialising skills but he knew that more often than not you had a habit of pulling yourself into a shell of seclusion, much to your detriment. Back in your hometown, you had other friends to pull you out of the occasional slump. In a new city though, you could see how easy it would be to melt into the background and continue having cup noodle meals in a nook of your apartment.]

But it wasn’t that.

You felt Yoongi’s gaze upon you sparingly enough throughout the evening to not be spooked but enough to know that he was avoiding direct conversation with you on purpose. So after your eighth drink of the night, when you and Yoongi were the only ones awake at the table, you decided to grab the bull by its horn.

Hoseok and Hajoon had moved to the kitchen to attempt to dig ice cream out of the freezer to satiate their craving for ice cream soda, and Sammy was passed out peacefully on the floor, with the fancy designer jacket acting as a cover. The rest of the party had left.

You sat up straight, well, as straight as you could sit without tipping over and rocked your body back and forth, ever so slightly. You crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat. Yoongi, pretending to be engrossed in his phone, looked at you from the corner of his eye, still making sure his back was slumped against the big sofa in the living room, urging every functioning neuron in his body to help him feign relaxation.

“Is there something about me you dislike?” you asked. You saw the finger scrolling on his phone pause.

Yoongi did not move for a couple of seconds. He hoped that he could pretend to not hear. But his jerk score had been through the roof this evening and he did not intend to take it any higher. He looked towards you and you drew in a breath, waiting for him to respond. He folded his outstretched legs to bring his knees up to his chest as he hung his arms over them, one of the hands still holding his phone. He said, in a voice deeper than you anticipated, “No, I don’t dislike anything about you.”

“Is it my presence itself that puts you off then?”

“No.”

“Then why have you been-”

“Avoiding talking to you?”

“Yeah?”

“You remind me of someone.”

“Oh!” your firm tone from earlier softening significantly. Yoongi could see confusion in your eyes as you struggled for an apt response to that. You had probably anticipated some amount of hostility but you “reminding” Min Yoongi of someone was not on your bingo card of the evening.

Was it a friend? A lover? A colleague? A no-one?

Before you could ask anything further, a very drunk Hajoon planted himself next to you. Hoseok followed him and handed you a beer glass full of ice cream soda. He also helped steer the conversation towards your move to Seoul, asking you more about your position at SNU and how you were friends with Sammy. Hajoon occasionally filled in on details that he was aware of including anecdotes from the few times you have met the band on tour when visiting Sammy.

This time though, drunk as you all were, the dynamic in the room changed. Yoongi was actively involved in this conversation. Listening, reacting, asking. This time around, he held your gaze, albeit fleetingly. The knots in your stomach shifted form. This time, it was less uncomfortable. During your recollection of drunk Sammy stories, you may have also heard Yoongi chuckle wholeheartedly at the story of how the two of you had once managed to nick a stranger’s toupe.

The throaty sound of his unadulterated amusement reverberated in your chest. But you tried to gather your thoughts so that you wouldn’t be caught swooning at a rapper that millions of people around the world wanted to marry.

Yoongi, on the other hand, could not look away from you. Did not want to either. Your confrontation with him earlier that hour had pulled him out of his head, his feelings of guilt and embarrassment from earlier that evening taking a back seat.

In its place, he felt the same warmth he felt when he saw you comforting the kitten. The disappointment he felt when he thought he had blown his only ever chance of seeing you again faded away. He felt relieved. Hella guilty, but also relieved. He could hope to see you again. He could hope to hear your voice again. He could hope for an opportunity to share a comfortable silence with you someday or a coffee.

[undeaddisillusion]

(I don't remember if Ive sent this to you before or if you answered it but I had it saved in my notes app so if this is something you've never read before here's some A/B/O stuff) I just know Omega!Steve loves scenting. When he worked at the mall there were so many people there in an enclosed space he got overwhelmed a lot. He had to ask Robin to cover for him a lot so he could go into the back room and huff the clean air. He got into the habit of just wearing one of Eddie's jackets to work so when he needed a break he could huff that instead. It made him a little lightheaded if he was too close to his heat but normally it helped him clear his head and pushed out all the other scents in the mall. It wasn't even the alpha scents that messed him up, there weren't many alphas in the small town of Hawkins and most of them were working to provide for their family, not shopping at the mall. But at a certain point even the slight Beta scents got too much for Steve. It was just the overwhelming scent of Other that got to his head. When he nested all that he could smell and feel was His. His scent, His alpha, His home, His safety. When he got to the mall all he could smell was Other. When it got to summer, when the mall was at its busiest, Steve ended up begging Eddie to scent him directly. And heavily too. He didn't want just a light rub on his scent gland. He wanted Eddie to aggressively claim him, otherwise it wouldn't last long enough to keep him sane for his whole shift. He wanted Eddie to scent him like he was about to go be alone with 20 other alphas. That image got Eddie wound up enough that it got the job done. Sure, Robin wrinkled her nose at the start of her shift, but once people started coming in and out it just got mixed with the rest of the scents. Steve though, was in heaven. It may have faded for Robin but Steve was surrounded in Eddie. He knew then, 15 minutes into his shift that he couldn't do this every time he had to come in for work. If he was any closer to his heat, this wouldn't be calming, it would be arousing, and he can't do that here. Not in front of robin and not in a mall full of people, but it did work for now. He felt safe the whole shift. And he felt even safer when his alpha picked him up and drove him home.

This sat in my inbox because I had NOO idea how to add on because it's already so great-

Steve always wants to smell like Eddie. He wants to wrap himself in Eddie's scent so everyone knows who he belongs to- even if they haven't claimed eachother.

[bked0n-lorazepam]

"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Part One

“You’re very tense.” 

The clock ticks, it’s echo bouncing off the beige walls of the plain, boring room. The couch I sit upon is a sad brown, fitting into the rest of the sad theme.

The window sill has plants on it though, very green and happy plants, a complete contrast to the rest of the snowy atmosphere outside.

“I’ve always been tense,” I say, looking away from the window and at the woman in front of me. She smiles a pitiful smile, sympathy she obviously can’t hide flashes through her green eyes. 

“Not always. In your file it says you used to be a very calm and relaxed-”

“It also says I used to have brown hair. How times change,” I smile tightly back at her, sighing as I realize my mistake. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so snippy. I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

She looks at her watch, also sighing as she shuts her notepad and sets it on the coffee table between us. She runs a hand through her hair, clearing her throat as she leans her arms on her knees. 

“I know this is tough, and I know what he did to you, and I know you want to get better, but this takes time. You can’t rush healing. I’m sending you home, and I won’t add this appointment to your bill,” She shushes my protests, raising her hand and making a ‘quit it’ motion, “You need to go home and sleep. You can’t rush this process.”

My keys clank against the trinket bowl as I shrug off my winter jacket, a soft bell following suit with soft, padded thuds. I grin, taking off my boots and shaking the snow out of my dirty blonde hair. My cat, Winston, meows loudly as I crouch down to pet him. 

“You hungry, little dude?” I look at the time on my phone, it reading 5:39 pm. He meows again, butting his head on my leg as I snort and stand up. “Of course you are.”

I walk to my kitchen, setting my phone on the counter as I open the drawer I dedicated to Winston the day I bought my apartment. I pull out wet food for him, opening it and setting it on the ground next to his water bowl.

I lean against the counter and watch him shove his white little face into the bowl to inhale his food.

Shaking my head and laughing a bit, I stop when I notice my phone vibrating. Picking it up and unlocking it, I let out a huh as I open my messages and see my sister texting me.

Donna: I js got a date with the hottest mf I have ever seen

Donna: like smoking hot

Me: someone is actually interested in you? thats a first

Donna: ok ouch

Donna: but yes 

Donna: oh and mom decided shes going to stay at your place for the weeknd

Donna: so get ready to clean

I immediately hit the call button as I read her messages.

“She’s doing what now?” I yell into the phone, wincing as I see Winston puff his tail up and look at me.

“Why would you not tell me this before today? Friday is in three days, and my place is a freaking pigsty. Three days is not enough time to clean, Madonna.” I tell her and start looking around my kitchen, noticing everything I know my mom will criticize the minute she walks into my apartment.

“Uh, probably because I just found out today, and don’t call me Madonna. She called me right before I landed the date with McDreamy,” She states and sighs, and I hear her throw herself on what I assume is her bed. 

“Besides, your place is never a pigsty. It’s always so clean, I could literally eat off your bathroom floor. Speaking of eat, you should also probably cook something, ‘cause we both know she ain’t eatin’ anywhere else.” The southern accent at the last part of her sentence was absolutely awful, but I understood it enough.

“Right, right, of course,” I sigh, hearing a thunk come from my bedroom as I watch Winston race towards the door.

Remembering the fact that I left my window open in my room, I assume a bird managed to fly its way into there, and that that was probably why Winston seemed so interested in it. “So, what’s McDreamy's name? I don’t think you’ve told me yet.” 

I change the subject as I start to walk towards my room to get the poor bird out of there before Winston tortures it. As I turn to go down the hallway, I stop when I notice the bedroom light is on. 

“Oh! His name is Badri, and he owns his own company. ‘Jules Jewels’, or whatever. Anyway, he lives in-” 

The blood rushing through my ears is loud enough to block her voice out, and the fast beat in my chest definitely does not help.

Thousands of True Crime documentary scenes play through my head where my current situation is the beginning scene of a vicious murder. 

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it refuses to leave. I chew on my lip as I slowly walk backwards back into the kitchen, clearing my throat as I walk towards my knife block on my counter. “Sorry, could you repeat that again? You, um, cut out for a second.”

“Mhm! I said that Badri’s sister was getting married next fall, and that she invited us to come to the wedding.” I hum in response, taking out a chef’s knife and taking off the safety cover. 

“I’m sorry Donna, but I’m gonna have to call you back. Kensley’s texting me about when our next therapy session will be.” I lie to her, grasping the knife in my hand tightly. 

“Oh, that’s okay! I’ll call you later to tell you more, love you, bye!” She says right before I hang up on her, and I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans.

I go over to my sink, turning on the faucet to hopefully drown out my footsteps and any creaking the floor might do as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom. 

I grasp the knife even tighter, furrowing my eyebrows as I hear Winston purr with a deep chuckle and a pop following after. I take a deep breath in, and open the door as quickly as I can.

I drop the knife at the person in front of me, and Winston darts out of the room, startled from the loud noise. 

“Go–good evening to yo–u too, sweets.”

[a-bucket-of-trash]

Champagne Bubbles – Kelvin x Female Reader – Parte 2/2

Part 1

Tags: Smut af.

He walked in behind you, watching you carefully close the bar's bathroom door, latch it, and turn to see his flushed cheeks and lustful eyes. Kelvin let you push him against the wall so you could kiss him deeply and passionately, the soft semi-moans of both drowned out by the music and the shouting of the others, while your hands groped his waist, quickly searching for his belt.

"Try not to moan too loud" You purred in his ear "Remember we're not home"

"I d-don't promise a-anything" He trembled, seeing you bend down in front of him, lowering his pants and underpants "F-fuck..."

It was obvious that he had spent a few hours horny, his member looked like it was going to scream and his underwear was a bit wet. You smiled, massaging his testicles, seeing his expectant eyes, his open mouth, his ragged breathing.

His loud moan bounced on the bathroom walls, while your mouth dedicated itself to swallowing him, licking him, sucking him, slowly but intensely, your hands occupied with his shaft and testicles.

"F-fuck... You're g-getting better and b-better, what the h-hell?" He moaned rolling his eyes "Oh h-honey... I adore you... I l-love you..."

You enjoyed him in your own way, since you didn't do that out of commitment, you really liked tasting him, feeling the flavor of him, while you watched him moan, delirious with pleasure, roll his eyes, comb your hair with love. But being horny for several hours made him last rather short, especially with your delicious impetus. You soon saw him trembling, panting, as you swallowed that seemingly endless torrent, squeezing him tight, making sure his body was empty and relaxed.

"Mmmmmm" You smiled, satisfied "How delicious you taste, honey" You caressed his waist.

"S-shit..." He smiled, agitated, seeing you stand up "T-thank you... my love... You r-really know how to blow my brain"

You kissed him for a long time, feeling his hands go over your behind and you laughed, pulling away.

"Calm down or you're going to get horny again" You approached the sink to clean yourself completely and fix yourself well.

"I always get horny, it's not new" He pulled up his clothes and stood next to you, also to fix himself in the mirror "Are you accompanied?"

"Mhm" You nodded "Calm down, Fanny drives" You turned to look at him "Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Just for a little while, I have to wait for George to decide to leave" He caressed your cheek affectionately "If you're tired, go bed... I promise to come quietly"

"Hmmmm I'll see" You lovingly kissed his lips "Take care honey, I love you, have fun"

"Mmmmm" He kissed you long "I love you so much... Rest well..."

You smiled at him, tenderly caressing his chin, before leaving the bathroom to go home, while you listened to the others celebrate and make obscene noises to annoy you a little, on your way outside, where your friend Fanny and two other girls were waiting for you, in the car, also bothering you for what you had done.

Not long after you arrived at the house that you and Kelvin shared, and you stayed doing a few things, mostly cleaning, although you had to stop every few minutes because of your boyfriend's repetitive texts. You laughed, touched, reading his nonsense, his confessions, his tender things like “I miss you, my hand feels lonely without yours. They are playing our song, I want to dance with you. I've had another beer, forgive me. I want to spend the weekend together, naked, in bed. How can someone like you be with a fool like me? You're hotter than a fighter jet engine landing."

That's why you didn't want to go to sleep, you knew he would bombard you with messages as soon as you left. He always did it, he was too affectionate and sweet to just keep quiet.

An hour and a half later, the door of your house opened, and Kelvin entered, as quietly as possible, taking short steps, wobbling a little. You looked at him from the bedroom door, smiling, watching him take off his jacket and fold it to leave it on the couch.

"Good night, precious" You told him, seeing him jump like a cat, looking at you, a little scared.

"God... Ssshhh" He smiled and gestured for you to lower your voice "Don't yell... you're going to wake up the love of my life"

"AHA?" You arched an amused eyebrow. "And where is she?"

"Here" He made a tender face, touching his chest.

"Aww" You laughed softly "You're adorable" You held out your arms to him "Did you have fun?"

"Mmm... Myeah..." He approached you, to take your waist, your arms around his shoulders "You know... Talk of drunken men..." He shrugged "I still prefer going out with you, I have more fun"

"What amuses you is that I make a mess with you, naughty boy" You stroked his hair.

"Yeeeaaahh" He nodded, happy "Besides, I can be myself with you... I love that... I love you..." He caressed and hugged your waist, purring "I've been thinking about you, and a lot... I got horny for you... Because I know that suck me it makes you… warm…”

"Good boy" You leaned your chest against his "You do know me..."

Now that you were home, you could relax properly, so you stood there for a while, at the door, making out, daringly touching each other, rubbing your bodies against each other, tongues together, slowly walking to bed, clothes falling one by one.

With the anxieties burning your skin, you lay down and you let Kelvin guide your body, to end up lying on your side, with him attached to you from behind, hugging you, penetrating you for a long time.

"F-fuck... you look so beautiful" He purred, kissing your neck long, one of his hands rubbing your breasts "I want to kiss you all damn night..."

“Kel…” You moaned, one of your hands in his hair “S-shit… you k-know you drive me crazy when you get romantic…”

“I know…” He searched for your mouth, his eyes locked with yours. “Marry me…Please…marry me, honey.” He moved deeper.

"W-what?" You moaned more, feeling your body respond to what he had said.

"Marry me" He purred more in your ear, his hand now holding your waist to move better.

"Fuck!" You laughed slightly "Yes... Y-yes... Of course..." You rolled your eyes "God... Keep g-going baby..."

"Hell yeah" He smiled, moving firmly "I love you... I love you..."

That drove you crazy. He was not only delicious in bed, but when he did it filling your ear with words like that, your body simply gave way, you simply became his, and now with much more reason than before. Your mind went blank as he emptied your head of any thoughts other than wanting more of him as you clung to the bed. Your brain barely kicked back in after quite a while, both panting, sweating, recovering.

"Now we're going to have to organize another party" He laughed, still hugging you tightly, sighing "But first... let's do it again... Wife..."

You laughed for a long time, content, listening to him laugh while he kissed your cheek. You really loved your future husband.

(The ending was a little at your honor  @hrefna-the-raven because I still think in the ending of your serie, I LOVED IT THAT MUCH OMG)

[multi-lefaiye]

DEMANDING NOPE RAMBLE

POINTS!!!!! NOPE IS EASILY ONE OF THE MOVIES OF ALL TIME

okay so truthfully it took me a while to fully absorb a lot of the themes in nope but i'm like a little obsessed with jupe's character and i want to explain why

also disclaimer i'm not saying anything no one's said before i'm just going feral

before i start tho i'm gonna just say. angel's got that trans swag. that is all i will say about him for now but i wanted to mention him b/c i love him.

SO something that genuinely really fascinates me with jupe is how the movie doesn't like... go into it very much, but he's clearly a DEEPLY DEEPLY traumatized dude. but he's also very much a dude who has NOT processed that trauma in a healthy way, and has instead embraced it as something marketable.

like the biggest themes in nope center around exploitation in the film industry and the concept of A Spectacle, and jupe embodies those SO fucking well. b/c he was a fucking CHILD and witnessed something absolutely horrific that never should've happened, and as an adult he treats it as something lighthearted, just something he can use to further market himself. literally exploiting his own trauma.

i remember the moment when he's asked about what it was like, and his response was to jokingly mention the snl parody of the gordy incident. (which honestly holy shit i can't get over how in poor taste i think doing a sketch based on that would be, but then again snl has done that sort of thing before so WELP) it's like he won't let himself view it as trauma, and he can only view it through the lens of entertainment, meaning he can't address it or face it properly.

i also like... i remember after i first watched nope, i told my partner that i would be really interested in a deeper exploration of jupe, specifically centered around him actually SURVIVING jean jacket. like i won't defend what he did at all lmao it was fucking despicable and he got so many people, including his own wife and children, killed in such a horrific and brutal way.

but imagine if he had to LIVE WITH THAT.

i think his death is very poetic and a good direction for him as a character, because he became so fixated on The Spectacle and profiting off the existence of this alien that should never have been made an object of spectacle to begin with (something something obvious parallels with gordy), and that's what led to his downfall.

i also remember seeing someone point out that like... jupe very much seems to have this attitude that there has to be a Reason he survived the gordy incident, that something about him means he's Special and won't be at risk. which directly ties into his death with jean jacket, even down to him whispering "you're chosen" to himself before it all goes down (something i actually didn't pick up on in my first viewing).

but anyway i think like. something something forcing jupe to face the reality of his trauma and his actions would be SO fucking interesting and i'd love to see how that would play out. like i think him dying works very well for the story but god i'd love to see what happened if he had to live with it all. i don't even necessarily want him to be redeemed or anything, i just want to see him live with the consequences and fucking Face It.

also this is a very tiny detail but i remember seeing someone else point out that like... so jupe remembers everything about the gordy incident, down to knowing exactly how long it lasted--six minutes and thirteen seconds. and then as an adult he holds the show of feeding jean jacket at 6:13 pm. yeah ok jupe you're super processing this whole thing really well /s

anyway jupe is fascinating to me and i want more of him but i do respect his death and the importance it has to the storyline.

[queeniecook]

March 20 - Part 1

We arrived in Brindleton Bay last night and rented a room at a B&B so we could get to the Lewis household at a reasonable time today for their barbeque.

I finally got to meet Thor after seeing many of his pictures on August’s simbook profile. Aubree has warmed up to the dog over the last few weeks, thankfully. Thor is a friendly little guy.

“Where’s Aubree and August? I’m getting hungry.” I commented with a sigh. I feel like I’m hungry all the time now.

“They are having intercourse.” Caleb stated, looking around the yard with a weird smile on his face. It was a cool sunny day in March. Not warm enough to not wear a jacket or sweater but nice enough not to wear your winter coat.

I looked at him, I love my best friend and her husband but I don’t want to think about them and their bedroom activities.  “You could have just said they’ll be out here in like ten minutes, you know?”

“I am just stating the truth.” Caleb replied.

I decided to busy myself with my knitting project to distract myself from hunger while Caleb chatted to me about Lilith and Jackson. He’s worried about the situation and I don’t blame him. Finally, the love birds came outside.

August started up the grill. Never have I been so happy to hear the sound of grilling meat in my life.

After what seemed like two years, the hamburgers were done. We all caught up with each other while we ate. Poor Aubree is still having moments were she has trouble eating certain things. I offered to finish her hamburger – out of friendly support of course. I remember what it was like.

I was having another hamburger and talking to Aubree by the grill as it suddenly got cloudy.

“It’s supposed to be sunny all day. I made sure to check the weather all week, because if it it was going to be gloomy, I was going to move things inside.” August commented grumpily. “This doesn’t feel right.”

[allengreenfield]

"Man Reports Sighting of 'Thunderbird' in Oklahoma

The Singular Fortean Society received the following report of an unusually large bird via an email entitled ‘Thunderbird sighting’ earlier this year.

The witness asked that he be identified only as Jason B.

So, 2007 to 2009, somewhere in there, I was working for an oilfield company, Chaparral Energy, out of Weatherford, Oklahoma. One of the first job sites I was sent to was laying about three miles of polyethylene pipe about 45 minutes southeast of Ponca City, Oklahoma, near the Osage Nation Reservation. 

I was on a backhoe pulling what had to be a quarter mile of the pipe slowly behind, stopping when a joint needed welded together and so on. At one of the stops, I stepped out of the cabin to have a cigarette, and noticed something casting a gigantic shadow as I looked down to shield the flame from the wind. 

I know Bald Eagles are one of the largest birds in North America, and I also know they range pretty much the entire continent. I also know at this time I had never seen one in the wild. What I also know [is] this bird was definitely larger than a Bald Eagle, the entire body was roughly the color of the Bald Eagles head, so a greyish white more like a Harpy Eagle. It was maybe 50-100 feet from the ground, and the wingspan at that distance made me realize how massive this bird was. Looking directly at it from my fixed point I would estimate the span from that distance to be 8-12 inches. 

It wasn't long after that I believe it decided the backhoe wasn't prey and flew into the woods lowering its altitude as it went. The last time I remember seeing it, I could visibly see the treetops moving and bending away from the wind created by [its] wing flaps.

In further correspondence with investigator Tobias Wayland, Jason clarified certain points and provided additional information regarding his experience.

Jason said that he was in his late 20s at the time of his sighting, which took place during springtime, between February and March. He described the temperature as being in the low 80s during the day and dropping into the 50s at night.

"It was a clear and sunny day, it was quite warm, I wasn't in even a light jacket that day," he said. "If there were any clouds, I don't remember seeing them at all."

The estimated wingspan given in the initial email was the relative size from his perspective, but Jason estimated the actual wingspan of the bird to be closer to between 14 and 16 feet. Bald eagles can reach wingspans of up to eight feet, and harpy eagles, which are not native to the area, have wingspans of up to just over seven feet.

"The most vivid detail I remember was the coloration. It was a lot lighter in color than most of the large birds I had seen. Growing up in the south I had seen various hawks, buzzards, and even a peregrine falcon or two, but the coloration was more like a Harpy Eagle. Very little brown, but a lot of different shades of grey," he said. "The second thing that stuck out with me was when it got close to the tree line, you could see the treetops bend under the wind caused by the wing flaps. But it wasn't a windy day."

In total, Jason estimated that his sighting lasted 10 or 15 minutes before the enormous bird dropped too low behind the tree line and he lost sight of it.

The Thunderbird is a popular legend among a wide variety of indigenous cultures across North America, including the Algonquian, Iroquois, Siouan, and Arikara peoples. Although regional variants differ, the Thunderbird is often described as an enormous bird sometimes credited with supernatural abilities, such as creating thunder from the flapping of its wings and lightning flashing from its eyes. In cryptozoology, the word has been appropriated to describe any bird of unusual size.

TO REPORT YOUR OWN ENCOUNTER WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE, REACH OUT TO US DIRECTLY AT THE SINGULAR FORTEAN SOCIETY THROUGH OUR CONTACT PAGE.

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TOBIAS & EMILY WAYLAND

JUNE 14, 2024"

https://www.singularfortean.com/news/2024/6/13/man-reports-sighting-of-thunderbird-in-oklahoma#:~:text=Man%20Reports%20Sighting,JUNE%2014%2C%202024

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne - Christmas Special (8)

Title: All I Want For Christmas Is You - previous chapter (X)

Chapter 8/10 - I Laughed When I Saw Him, In Spite Of Myself - previous chapter (X)

Words: 2.2K+ words

Summary: Lisa and the others rescue Nutcracker, Hobie, and Pav

///////

The plan repeats itself in Lisa’s head over and over again as they progress deeper into the mountains and closer towards the castle. They came to a river hidden within the outskirts of the mountain range, a small boat tied to a dock. Using the boat, Peter guided Miles as he took them all up the stream as they overlooked the grand castle looming over them before heading into a hidden cave and darkness quickly consumed them. 

Peter B. turned on his lantern, light quickly taking form as it shined across their faces. 

“Okay, MayMay, just like we practiced, remember?” Peter B. whispered gently to MayDay who was strapped to his chest in a little carrier. He brought his fingers to his lips, signaling silence. “Shhh,”

“Shhh,” MayDay repeated the motion, although her version came out as more like a hiss. 

Lisa smiled softly at the pair. Even in the dream realm, Peter B. was still bringing his toddler with him to their missions. Father of the year. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this, Peter?” Gwen asked him nervously, trying to peer further into the cave.

“Why weren’t there any guards keeping watch back there?” Lisa chimed in, sharing Gwen’s same worry. 

“As cunning and scavenging as these rats are, they have no idea about these tunnels. This tunnel will lead us to a hidden entrance straight into the dungeon,” Peter B. nodded towards them reassuringly. “It’s the same way I got out when I made my escape,”

“Maybe it was the same way Nutcracker got out way back when,” Miles offered Lisa the suggestion, along with a hopeful and comforting smile as he continued to guide the boat. 

“Maybe. . .” Lisa nodded along with him. 

“What do we do if we find other innocent people locked up in the dungeon?” Gwen spoke up, her voice soft. 

“We’ll release them, let them cause a diversion to the guards so we can easily slip up to the throne room,” Peter B. looked between everyone as he shared his idea. “We’ll take down the Rat King in the chaos,”

“Rescue Nutcracker and the others,” Gwen added with a firm nod. 

“And find a way to get you back home, Lisa,” Miles finished relaying the plan as all eyes trailed towards her.

“Thanks you guys,” Lisa smiled softly at everyone. “I won’t be going anywhere until your home is liberated from the Rat King’s control. You have my word,”

“We’ll hold you to that,” Peter B. grinned. “You keep up your end, we’ll gladly return the favor,”

After a few more minutes of rowing down the dark cavern stream, torch lights came into few, along with a more open tunnel. Miles slowed his approach as the boat cruised down the water before coming to a halt before some stone steps and giant iron gates. 

“This is it,” Peter B. was the first to disembark from the boat before offering a hand to Lisa, helping her off the boat. 

Miles secured the boat as Gwen followed behind Lisa before quickly following behind. Pulling some metal picks out of his jacket. Peter B. fiddles with the lock of the door before a ‘click’ echoes across the chamber. 

“We’re in, let’s go,” Peter B. slowly opens the door, motioning his head for the rest of the spider-gang to move in. They quickly do as told, scampering inside passed the door before Peter B. is the last to go in, carefully shutting the door. 

Lisa took a step closer into the hall, peering into what looked to be the first of many lines of cells within the castle dungeon. It was cold and eerie, very little light was provided from the few torches that lit the hall. If the Rat King was going for the despair approach to put fear into his prisoners, he nailed it perfectly. 

“Okay, so we just go down the line and check each cell until we find our friends and the King?” Lisa glanced back at the others as they approached, reviewing the plan. 

“Each cell,” Miles nodded.

“Right,” Lisa nodded before glancing over at Peter B. “Peter, you were the Captain of the Guard so you obviously know your way around here better than we do,”

Peter stepped forward, bringing out his rifle as he loosened the strap of his weapon. “Right, stay on my six, and keep close,”

“If we run into any of the rat soldiers?” Gwen asked. 

“Then we handle them quickly and quietly,” Peter B. nodded firmly, glancing at her. 

“Shhhh,” MayDay gently shushed everyone, bringing her tiny finger up to her lips. 

“That’s right, Mayday,” Lisa smiled gently at the baby, winking at her. 

“Let’s get going,” Peter B. took the lead, the rest of the group following behind him. 

One by one, slowly but surely, they checked each and everyone of the cells in every hall of the dungeon. There were a few close calls with patrolling guards, but thankfully they paid no attention to the uninvited guests as they clung to the shadows, waiting for them to pass by. Even if they were beginning to notice that something wasn’t all that right, Lisa and Peter B. took it upon themselves to dispose of them. 

Quickly and quietly. 

In one such instance, Lisa nearly ran into a pair of guards. She gasped, quickly acting on instinct as she flicked her wrists and fired two blobs of web fluid onto their faces. They squeaked, trying to pull the sticky contents out of their fur, but as soon as she sang a quick melody and the webs glowed, they froze.

Their eyes matched the hue of the webs as their arms slacked, awaiting her command. 

“Where are the prisoners being kept?” She asked them.

They both squealed, pointing their spears down the main hall of the dungeon, showing off further rows of cells. 

“Good. The king has been looking for you, you are to report him immediately,” Lisa commanded, arms crossed over her chest as she managed a ghostly grin. “Better not keep him waiting, and don’t mention it was me who sent you,”

With a panicked look on their faces, the rats vigorously nodded their heads before scrambling off with their tails between their legs. Literally. They also dropped a pair of keys on their way out. 

“Yoink!” Lisa plucked the keys from the floor, showing them off with a proud grin. 

“Your webs let you do that?” Miles gawked at the sight, eyes twinkling. 

“I wanna do that!” Gwen’s own eyes matched Miles’ sparkle as she smiled up at Lisa. 

“Focus, kiddos, focus,” Peter B. snapped his fingers, drawing their attention back to him. “Let’s slip up and cover more ground. Each one, take a hall,”

By the sixth hall, Lisa was beginning to falter on hope. Just where could the Rat King have put their friends and the King? Was it possible they were being held somewhere else in the castle?

“This is getting ridiculous, there’s no one here,” Miles hissed harshly as he poked his head out of sixth hall.

Which was both a relief, as no other innocent civilians were being kept here, and a concern as that meant their friends were nowhere to be found. 

“There’s gotta be something we’re missing,” Gwen shook her head in dismay. 

“Is there anywhere else in the castle that the Rat King could be keeping them, Peter?” Lisa asked him, her gaze turning towards the ex-captain. 

“No,” Peter B. shook his head in dismay, “If the Rat King was planning on keeping any prisoners, they would all be held in here,”

With a disgruntled groan, Lisa steps further down the main hall until she stumbles upon a dead end. There’s a door on this end, not the typical iron bars of the other cells. This was a wooden door, with a small metal grate in the center to peer inside.

All the other cell doors Lisa had tried to unlock with the keys wouldn’t budge. 

“Peter?” Lisa glanced back towards him, seeking his approval.

He nodded eagerly. “Worth a shot,”

Peter B. keeps watch as Lisa unlocks and pushes the door open to the locked cell tower. Stepping inside, Lisa is shocked to find it completely empty. “What?” She gasps softly, stepping closer inside. 

Miles and Gwen trail behind her, their footsteps light as they glance around.

“But, all the other cells were empty. They just had to be in here,” Miles whispered nervously as his eyes scanned the room.

“Not to mention the King too,” Gwen shakes her head as she glances at Lisa. “There’s no sign of anyone,”

Lisa glances around, noting the empty metal shackles nailed to the opposite wall, no lanterns lit compared to the exit they came from. Glancing down at the floor, Lisa immediately noticed something seemed off. The line between the light and darkness of the room was just. . . that. A clear straight line. 

Lisa knelt down, examining it further as her fingers trailed along the barrier line between light and dark. Then her head started to pulse, like something was calling to her. Her spider-sense triggered, sensing something amiss. 

“Lisa,” 

Or someone. 

Her heart fluttered as she immediately thought to call for Miguel, recognizing the voice. But no, in this world, that voice belonged to a brave, wooden knight as she glanced up. She looked towards the darkened side of the room, slowly standing up. 

“Lisa, what is it?” Gwen asked her, daring a step closer. 

“I’m thinking why would the guards have keys to an empty cell?” Lisa spoke up, mumbling softly as her eyes peered deeper into the darkness. 

She stepped forward, lifting a hand. 

“Lisa~” 

Her hand pressed into nothing, her palm flat against it. There was some form of invisible wall in their way. Her pupils went wide at the contact, lifting her other hand to touch it and confirm she wasn’t seeing things. 

“A shield?” Peter B. gasped. 

Lisa glanced over towards the unlit torches. “Miles, help me with this,”

Miles followed her gaze, looking back and fourth towards the torches and the invisible wall. “Got it!” Scampering over, Miles grabbed one torch, pulling it free from its metal clamp, than another one before joining Lisa’s side, “Here,”

Lisa grabbed on to one of the torches that Miles brought. She held a firm grip on it before glancing back at the others. “Stand back,”

Peter B. stepped forward, gently pulling Gwen to safety as he used his arms to shield her and MayDay, bracing himself. Lisa and Miles spared a glance with one another, nodding their heads in silent communication before looking towards the invisible barrier. “Now!” Lisa ordered. 

Lisa and Miles chucked their torches, shattering the invisible wall. The spell was broken as the once invisible barrier cracked and shattered into glass like pieces all over the floor. On the other side of the room was light, torches giving way to Nutcracker, Hobie, and Pavitr, all shackled and bound by metal chains. 

“Guys!” Gwen exclaimed, her smile lighting up as she spotted the others. 

“About time you guys found us,” Hobie grinned. “We didn’t think you were coming,”

“But I did!” Pav smirked confidently. 

Lisa broke off the keys from its ring and handed one to Miles and Gwen as they each went in to release Pav and Hobie from their shackles. Lisa approached Nutcracker, releasing him from his metal bonds. He stared down at her with a pleasantly bewildered expression as she hugged him. 

“Thank goodness you’re alright!” She sighed in relief. 

Recovering from the display of affection, Nutcracker smiled softly at her before returning his own embrace. “I had no doubts that you’d find us,”

Lisa pulled away from his embrace, staring up at him with an affectionate gaze. Realizing that the both of them had been starring, and that they had an audience, their cheeks flushed as they attempted to laugh it off, sparing small glances. “Sorry, I just–”

“I just really do look a lot like your Miguel, then?” Nutcracker raised a curiously teasing brow at the girl. 

Lisa could only shrug in response. 

“Not that this reunion isn’t touching, we really need to get going if we’re taking the fight to the Rat King,” Peter B. insisted as he peeked outside the door. 

“You lot going after the big boss?” Hobie grinned, cracking his knuckles. 

“Well we weren’t going to go without you guys,” Lisa smirked back at him before glancing at Nutcracker and Pav. 

“I like the sound of that!” Pav cheered, high fiving Miles. 

“Did you find the King?” Nutcracker asked Lisa, taking her hands in his. 

Lisa shook her head. “No, all of the cells in the dungeon were empty,”

“Hmmm,” Nutcracker narrowed his gaze as he glanced to the side, thinking. “It’s possible the Rat King is holding him hostage in the throne room, wanting him present to show off the conquering of his kingdom,”

“Then let’s go nail two birds with one stone,” Hobie chimed in, clearly eager to get things rolling. 

“Alright, then let’s shift over to Phase 2 of the plan. Miles, Gwen, you two search and find where the Rat King is holding the Spiders,” Peter B. commanded. “The rest of us will take the fight to the throne room,”

“Aye aye, captain!” Miles and Gwen saluted Peter B. before running off. 

A swell of confidence flowed through Lisa as the rest of the group left the room and navigated their way out of the dungeon and progressed through the lavish halls of the castle. 

It was finally time to stop the Rat King once and for all.

///////

Happy Holidays!