#but thank you so so so much jingles for giving me an excuse

[moonstruckme]

Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning. 

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after. 

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything. 

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards. 

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine. 

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in. 

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable. 

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment. 

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“You know how to cook?” 

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?” 

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board. 

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.” 

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Didn’t expect you to, love.” 

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?” 

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?” 

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.” 

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.” 

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.” 

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside. 

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.” 

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.” 

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.” 

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.” 

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.” 

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself. 

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food. 

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.” 

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing. 

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.” 

“Do you?” 

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans. 

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.” 

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month. 

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder. 

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask. 

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?” 

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.” 

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity. 

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?” 

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you. 

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.” 

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.” 

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing. 

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness. 

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.” 

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.” 

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.” 

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.” 

“Guess you’ll never know.” 

[chakkll]

Lucky Day

Mike Schmidt x gender neutral!reader

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy’s

Synopsis: A certain exhausted customer hasn’t failed to order a coffee every morning ever since the cafe opened up two months ago. Today, however, he seems much more stressed than usual.

Warnings: pre-movie, fluff

Word count: 1k

“Mama! Look, look, I even got the receipt!”

You smile as the little girl who just ordered a hot chocolate skitters over to her mother with a proud smile.

Warm sunlight shines through the windows of the cafe, illuminating the dark oak tables lined by the walls decorated with paintings and drawings by little kids.

You’ve loved working here, even though the place hasn’t been open very long. The atmosphere never fails to calm you.

The line is empty once again, so you turn to your coworker and friend, Candace, about to start a small conversation until you hear the front door’s bell jingle.

You look over to the door, readying your work smile, until you see who it is.

There he is. Right on schedule.

A genuine smile creeps onto your face.

Ever since the cafe you work at—Cora’s Coffee—opened two months ago, the same worn-out yet handsome customer hasn’t failed to show up every morning at 9am for a coffee.

And in Mike walks, this time sporting dark circles under his eyes.

He walks past the little girl clutching the receipt next to her mother and right up to you.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Black coffee, a quarter cup of half and half, and one spoonful of sugar?”

Mike blinks, staring at you blankly until the ghost of a smile appears on his face.

“Yep.”

But his response doesn’t matter, because you’re already writing down the order and handing it to Candace.

“You look tired,” You observe as you put his order into the cash register. Mike sighs and offers a weak shrug.

“Up late job hunting.” Is all he says in response, causing you to glance up to him.

Somehow he looks even more sleep deprived than normal. …Still handsome, though.

You can feel your cheeks warm slightly at the thought, but you brush it off.

“Job hunting? I thought you were just hired somewhere?” You frown.

“Yeah, so did I.”

You sigh softly as Mike takes out a 10 dollar bill to pay, but you wave him off. He stares at you in confusion.

“On the house.”

Mike blinks, staring at you quizzically. “…Won’t your boss be upset?”

You shrug. “She can take it off my pay.”

Mike’s stare doesn’t let up, and it’s starting to make you a little self-conscious.

“What? Never heard of a little act of kindness?” You huff as you hide your face behind the cash register, acting like you’re busy to try and hide the small blush on your cheeks.

You can hear a small chuckle, causing your eyes to widen. You look up from behind the cash register to see a small smile gracing Mike’s lips.

“Thanks.”

You shrug, causing him to chuckle once again.

“…You remind me of my sister.” You hear Mike mutter softly. Looking up, you see a sad glint in his eye. His smile is gone.

“Your sister?” Mike looks at you, and you can tell he’s a little surprised you heard him.

“…Yeah,” When you don’t say anything, he sighs and continues. “She’s younger than me. 10 years old.”

You blink. “I remind you of a 10 year old? Gee, thanks.” Mike snorts.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re just… I don’t know, you remind me of her.”

You smile. Just as you’re about to say something, you feel someone elbow your side. It’s Candace, handing you Mike’s coffee.

You frown in confusion, as it’s not your job to give customers their drinks. Candace motions for you to read the cap of the cup.

You read it, and clearly written on the cap is:

look on the bottom of the cup for a surprise!

Candace’s handwriting.

You glance at her suspiciously before looking to Mike. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Mike shrugs and you step farther behind the counter, peering at the coffee cup curiously. You glance up at Candace who’s taking a customer’s order, but she shoots you a cheeky smile.

You sigh and carefully raise the coffee cup above your head. On the very bottom of the cup reads:

Hey! In case you wanna hang out, here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

- (Name) :)

Your jaw clenches in embarrassment.

“Candace—“

You look up, only to see that where Candace was standing is now your other coworker, Benjamin. He seems just as confused as you.

You grumble and screw the top back on.

Glancing up at Mike, you just now realize how long he’s been waiting for his coffee—this and chatting with you probably took up a lot of his time, as he’s almost always in and out.

You purse your lips as you glance down to the cup of coffee and back up at Mike. He chews on his fingernail, uninterested, as the sunlight now shines on him. The tips of his dark curls shine a nice golden brown.

Feeling bad that you’ve made him wait so long, you decide to replace the cap of the cup with a different one that has no writing on it.

Screwing the cap on, you walk back to your place at the cash register.

“Mike!”

Mike looks up and walks over. He takes the cup from your hands.

“I can pay.”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

Mike sighs, shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Thanks again.”

You smile and wave as he turns to the door. He sends you a wave over his shoulder, and with a jingle, he’s gone.

Two hours later…

You yawn, stretching your arms over your head as you walk out of the cafe. The bell bids you goodbye with a cheerful chime, and you walk down the street to a cheerful beat. You reach into your back pocket and pull out your phone.

Opening the settings, you turn off Do Not Disturb, only to see you’ve gotten seventeen texts.

You open up Messages, seeing most of the notifications were from a group chat with a few of your friends.

However, you have one text from an unknown number.

You curiously click on the text, only for it to read:

<9:36am>

hey, this is mike. i’m free on weekends if the offer to hang out is still available?

Your eyes widen and you read over the text at least three more times before you’ve finally processed it.

Mike Schmidt wants to hang out with you?

This must be your lucky day.

[sister-of-hitoshi]

IM BACK AGAIN BUT WITH OUT THE COVER OF AN ANON!!! Can I get another Mr. Villain x reader? This time can I pleaseee have the reader be a baker? Making him cute lil cupcakes with panda faces!!!!

To my loveliest @crystalmonk5579 of course!!! Thanks a lot for coming again and requesting ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ <33 I can only hope that I didn't disappoint, sorry for the delay (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Sending you love!

Adultered Confections

Genre: Fluff

Anime: Mr Villain's Day off

Character: Warumono-san/ Mr Villain

Word count: 1k+

Note: That gif is literally just him coming to terms with his new-found feelings sensations 😭

"Ahhh~ look at that cloud, it looks just like his fluffy hair"

You sigh, your consciousness floating in a happy dream before the ding of the oven jolted you up from your slumber, starting a chain reaction which finally ended up with a bag of flour all over you.

"Why do all my dreams always end up like this! Ugh." You exasperatedly made your way to the oven while patting your face to take out the cupcakes. This was your new recipe, and you wanted it to be a hit. Although a small batch among them was way more special than the rest.

They were the panda themed cupcakes for your crush.

"I know I currently look bad but all this pain would be so worth it if only he was here to comfort me and pat all this flour off" You animatedly nodded to yourself, satisfied with your own reasoning while being completely ignorant to the jingle of the shop door-bell.

A pat on your back and you screamed- almost.

Turning around you were met face to face with the guy-of-your-dreams. He first stared at you, and then stared at his fingers covered with flour.

"Would you like me to help you in some way?"

He was a kind man, the kindest you've ever met, and extraordinarily handsome on top of that.

"Pat all this flour off of me!!-" Wait wait- that came out without much thought!!- "-....please?"

How could I be so bold??! You internally screamed. You were about to immediately correct your 'mistake' when he took out his handkerchief.

"Excuse me then" he said, and started patting your face.

You immediately closed your eyes shut, only taking small peeks at him out of embarrassment. You would be lying if you didn't admit to feeling heartbroken at his lack of reaction.

But well that's just who he was. A calm and composed man.

Surely girls would be throwing themselves at him. You haven't even been able to express your interest in him properly except for well- giving him freebies everytime he came regardless of whether he bought something or not, always make light talk with him to know about his interests and days, chalking out his day-off routine using all the "classified information" - things he tells you about himself, pack extra sweets, keep your shop open longer on particular days of his visit and also-

Yeah, you get it.

I'm a rock- I'm a r.o.c.k

You continued to chant your newfound mantra in your head until he was done with dusting patting flour off of you. You opened your eyes and thanked him shyly, promising to repay his kindness. But of course, you being a blind, non-living rock, failed to notice his blushing eartips.

All the while he was busy doing his job of cleaning you and staring at your face a little bit more than that his ears had felt a bit warm, his heart had felt warmer, and he had this tingling sensation in his stomach. It had actually been quite a few times when he has felt this sort of unfamiliar sensation now, but today it felt more intense.

"So, how did you land up like this?"

He asked, tilting his head. So adorable-

"Well I was making these cup- OHH!!"

"Please wait it's a surprise for you!-" Without waiting for a reply, you swiftly turned around, ready to dash towards the oven when your head hit a nearby rack which somehow caused a box of wooden spatulas of varied shapes to fall on your head somehow, which triggered another chain reaction somehow which again ended up with a bag of flour all over you. Really, again.

"....I really really can't believe my luck!!!"

You exclaimed exasperatedly, looking down at your feet. That's it I look like a fool in front of him I'm so so embarrassed let me just dig up a hole and bury myself there maybe even do-

"Pfft-"

You looked up at him and caught him smiling down at you. You were blessed with his laugh, okay time for me to be in heaven now which he was trying so hard to hold in.

His mind only repeated one word to him, over and over again. Cute.

Cute cute cute cute cute-

"Um... I know it's really weird that I'm like this- I mean would you mind doing it no- no- I'm sorry-" you were trying to find the best words that would fit your current situation while grabbing at your work uniform by it's hem and blushing, when his actions stopped you from rambling further. He had again started to clean you up with another handkerchief now, all the while smiling at you.

For some reason, even my neck feels very tingly now.

Wait- he always felt this way when he was with you...had you mixed something in your confectionery?!

He was almost going to become very serious about this situation and ask you about the ingredients. But then you looked up at him and smiled-

He lost all his composure. He could do nothing except for continuing to stare at you and reply with a robotic 'welcome'.

"Umm then... Would you like to come with me over here? I really doubt my luck right now so.."

"Sure thing" He smiled and complied, now standing beside you while you took out whatever you had baked for the day.

But then you suddenly grabbed his hands to save yourself from tripping.

His entire being went on high alert as he swiftly positioned himself behind you, your back being supported by his broad chest. His ears were completely red now.

"T-that was close!!" You shouted out, completely flustered. You were feeling perturbed now, anything could happen to you and your cupcakes with this dull luck of yours. Both his hands were supporting your shoulders now to help you stabilize, so taking this as an opportunity, you nudged the tray towards him without turning around.

Here goes nothing-

"Panda themed cupcakes for my most cherished customer and special person.... Hope you l-like them."

"Is this a gift?"

"Yes, of course, now hurry up and take it!"

He continued to stare at them for a few seconds, before taking one in his hand, all the while the other one holding your shoulder continued to tremble.

What is this texture?!!

He studied the cupcake, like it was some state-of-the-art sculpture. The texture of the panda cupcake was so fluffy, it looked so soft, it gazed at him so lovingly his sense of guilt almost compelled him to say no-

You had turned around.

Your eyes met his.

Your eyes

He immediately stuffed his face with two cupcakes.

The taste was so blissful he imagined himself being hugged by soft giant pandas... and you?

You were there hugging him?

He immediately snapped out of his blissful trance, your voice calling out to him very sweetly, asking him if he liked it, telling him that it was a special recipe for him and him only.

"Oh..."

He squeezed his coat fabric.

This feeling....it had nothing to do with the ingredients used. It was the baker, you, all along.

[loveshotzz]

Is It New Years Yet?

steve harrington x fem!reader ✨Part One✨

Santa Tell Me

summary: When you meet Steve Harrington the first time it’s by accident, the second time a coincidence, and by the third he’s calling it fate.

wc: 8.1k

warnings: 18+ series, a christmas meet cute with steve who’s in his 30’s, smut in later chapters, drinking, smoking, eddie munson is our best friend/roommate, him and steve don’t know each other in this AU.

authors note: this wasn’t supposed to be this big or long but here we are. thank you for all your patience and sweet words, I’m so excited to share this with you.

series masterlist -> ✨ part two

The Marshall Fields feels alive with only three weeks left until Christmas, making it a next to impossible mission to get to your job in the restaurant that sits on top of the seven story tourist attraction. At least on time.

Bing Crosby’s ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ spills from the speakers overhead, the deep baritone of his voice is barely audible over the low murmur of conversation happening all around you. Lush, large boughs of green pine hang pristine from the historically tall ceilings, shimmering tinsel draped with purpose at the ends of them catching in the light. It reflects off the gold ornaments that cover it in a perfect pattern. It’s almost enough for you to forget how annoyed you are.

Your slip resistant shoes catch and scuffle along the deep crimson carpet as you move through the shoulder to shoulder crowd. It doesn’t take you very long to find a break in it, still scratching at your nose that itches from your walk through the fragrance department. Your small victory is quickly diminished when you see a swarm of families standing in front of the golden doors of the elevators. 

You silently curse yourself for not leaving earlier, completely forgetting that Santa was on the fifth floor today. As if on queue, a little girl with perfect blonde curls that bounce as she runs smacks into your legs just like your realization, falling back on her butt with a thud. Her pearly white dress flutters around her, and the two of you stare each other down for what feels like an eternity until her mother rushes over with panicked apologies right as her daughter breaks out the waterworks. 

The noise makes you grimace, mumbling a ‘it’s fine’ under your breath before turning on your heel. Reaching behind, you pull your phone from your back pocket to see just how late you really are, accepting defeat with having to take the scenic, much more time consuming route up the escalators. The bold white numbers that flash across the screen tell you that you’re already five minutes past the start of your shift. A long sigh slips from between your lips as you give up on trying to rush. 

Moving with the flow of the crowd, the beginning jingle of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ starts to play, and with the grand spectacle of the yearly decorations, it���s hard not to feel all the emotions of nostalgia they’re trying to pull from you, making you roll your eyes singing along with her under your breath.

The big water fountain in the middle of the men’s department comes into view from the tops of bobbing heads, one of the many physical markers in this building you’ve had to use so you don’t get lost in the retail maze they’ve created, letting you know that you’re close to your destination. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to gear up to break free from the human traffic jam, the signs pointing to the escalators in your sights. His panicked voice is what you hear first, an obvious friendliness still hidden underneath it despite the way it shakes every time you hear him say “excuse me?” 

Your eyes search for the owner, and when you find him, regret buries itself deep in your gut when they land on his face.

A perfect mess of dark chestnut hair, with tips that look like they were dipped in honey sits on top of his head. The hints of gold hidden inside shimmer under the lights, as it curls wildly behind his ears. It almost looks styled that way, that is until you see his big hand run through it twice in the span of a few seconds. Warm brown eyes squint as he turns in a full circle glancing between his phone and the signs the point to the city street exits on either side of him. The hoards of people surrounding him completely ignoring his existence as he looks around painfully lost. 

His nose is sharp, just like his jaw that’s dusted with the faint  hint of a five o’clock shadow. The two prominent moles that sit side by side on his cheek stick out on his unseasonably sun kissed skin that seems to glow against the dark maroon color of his sweater. It’s snug across a broad chest, just like the washed out black jeans that fit a light too well around his thighs. His chocolate colored peacoat looks tailored to fit his biceps, with shiny gold buttons that match the buckle on his russet leather loafers, and the chain that dangles from around his neck. 

You watch him try to ask a few friendly faces for help, only receiving a shrug and a half smile by the ones that actually acknowledge him. He mutters something that sounds sarcastic to himself as you get closer, his hands moving animatedly before he huffs pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Maybe it’s the Christmas decorations, or the Mariah Carey, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’d rather take pity on a handsome stranger than go to your job. Whatever reason it is, you decide to make the stupid mistake to help him.

“Hey,” you greet timidly, getting just close enough to smell the cedar and cinnamon that seems to cling to the expensive wool of his coat, ignoring the way your stomach flips because of course he smells good right?  

“Are you lost?” 

He doesn’t hear you over the internal battle going on inside his head, not even registering that someone is finally stopping to offer the help he’d just been pleading for, quietly grumbling, ‘you wanted to move to the city, now you can’t even find your way through a damn store’.

You clear your throat before it can get anymore awkward, alerting him of your presence while letting your curious gaze wander up his tall broad frame. Those squinted brown eyes look big now as they meet yours, and you can see green inside them that you couldn’t before and it sparkles brighter than the tinsel hanging from the boughs behind him. 

Yeah, you’ve made a huge mistake.

He blinks a few times, before a wide smile stretches across his face somehow making him even more handsome as he reveals a set of perfectly straight teeth. The smile pushes up his cheeks, and crinkles the skin around his eyes, and you watch all the aggravation from before melt off of his perfectly sculpted face and you wish you could go back those few minutes in time and abort the mission. This is no damsel in distress.

“Hi” is all that he says, peony’s painting his cheeks as he runs his hand through his thick hair again. It looks even softer up close.

“Hey,” you giggle, nerves taking over and you want to pinch yourself for it. “I just wanted to see if you needed some help, you look a little lost.” 

You try to seem indifferent when you catch the way his gaze roams quickly down your body, thankful you did laundry last night and had on your tight fitting work slacks today that showed off your curves. 

“So lost!” He groans, the blush on his cheeks deepening with the tips of his ears. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t even know what floor I’m on.”

You try to hide the way you snort, slapping your palm over your mouth.

“Hey, be nice!” He laughs, trying his best to fight it to put on a hurt expression, “this is like my first time here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you try to fight off you smile, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you —“

“Steve,” interjects with a grin, those perfect teeth biting at his full bottom lip as he sticks out one of his hands for you to take, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger you didn’t notice before gleaming when it hits the light.

“Well, Steve,” you try not to laugh, which ends up being easy to do when you slip your hand into his and watch it disappear behind his long fingers when they wrap around them. “You’re on the first floor if you can believe it.

“That’s fucking embarrassing. Wow.” He groans, letting your hand go to run his palm down his face, and you hate that you feel the loss in your gut. “Sorry I didn’t mean to cuss.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” You tease with a wink, enjoying the way it only makes the color on his face deepen. “Where are you trying to go? I work on the seventh floor. I might be able to take you on my way.”

It takes Steve a minute to formulate an answer to your offer, still stuck on the fact a complete stranger was being so nice to him, and the silence between you goes on just long enough to make you second guess everything.

“Or I could just try and give you directions if that’s more comfortable for you.” You offer, adjusting the straps of your backpack nervously.

“I’m trying to get to the women’s department,” Steve finally blurts out, sensing the shift in your energy and quickly tries to recover with another card through his hair and a crooked smile, “specifically the handbags, and I absolutely think you should take me.”

His gaze narrows the color in his eyes darkening into something more flirtatious than nervous. 

“Who knows how long it’d take me to get there without a beautiful, clearly smart woman such yourself to help me anyway.”

Your stomach does that thing that you hate again, and all the heat in your body licks at your cheeks like flames. You can’t remember the last time a man actually used the word beautiful. Hot? Absolutely. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Yeah, a few times, but never beautiful. It sits in your chest where it blossoms into another painfully big smile that pushes your cheeks up even more, and you have to look away from his face for a moment when he matches it with his own.

“O- okay, if you just, uh wanna follow me?”  Words get lost on your tongue and it comes out more shy than you would’ve liked, but you turn on your heel before you can think too hard about it when he gestures you forward.

You hear him mutter ‘are you kidding me?’ under his breath as you lead him to the escalators just around the corner, making him realize how close they were this whole time and you wonder just how long he was actually looking for them. The smell of mint hits your nose as you pass the Frango chocolate stand and it mixes with the spice of his cologne as he trails close behind. Butterflies threatening to break from cocoons hearing the way his steps match yours. 

He stops next to you as you come to halt to wait your turn to hop onto the moving metal steps. You look up at him and there’s an awkwardness that threatens to fill the small space between you that has you giving him a tight lipped smile that he returns with the kind of confidence that makes your palms sweat and you have to look away. 

“I say we make our move after white puffer coat comin’ up here.” His voice startles you when it comes out low, close enough to the shell of your ear that you swear you can feel the whisper of his lips. Spearmint stings your nose from the gum that snaps between his teeth, and the heat of his breath makes goosebumps jump along the back of your neck. 

Why did you do this?

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him see the playful glint that dances in them before giving a curt nod of your head.

“On the count of three…” You play along, despite everything inside you telling you to stop flirting back and it makes Steve’s whole face light up, long fingers flexing at his side with the need to find yours again.

“One..” He starts, and your eyes meet ‘white puffer coat’ who’s now only a few steps away before finding Steve’s again who’s stare very obviously never left your face.

“Two..” You giggle trying to hide the way your body starts to buzz and if it wasn’t for Steve’s giddy expression you’d be more embarrassed than you actually are.

“Thre-“ His final count gets cut off by the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his, tugging him onto the stairs early with a loud cackle that has you throwing your head back and he swears the sound tilts his world off its axis.

His cheeks dust pink under the bright light looking down his nose at you with a wide smile that shows all his teeth. An expensive loafer sits wedged between your work shoes and the other on the step above, caging you against the side as you ride up to the next floor, and he’s close enough for you to see a smattering of more freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the side of his neck, even one on the tip of his earlobe.

He’s still holding your hand.

Your fingers twist and flex at the realization, dropping from his hold and Steve clears his throat because of it. Adam’s apple bobbing as you land on the second floor, he shoves his hand in his pocket, standing a more appropriate distance from you as you get on the next set of stairs going up.

“So what’s on the seventh floor?” He asks, finally breaking the silence that crackles with something you aren’t prepared for today.

“Oh, um, The Walnut Room.” you know where the big Christmas tree is?” You answer with a small smile and it makes him snort, the noise making your eyes go big and the corners of your lips twist up more.

“I couldn’t find the escalators, you think I know where the big Christmas tree is? Don’t flatter me so much or I’ll think you’re flirting with me, honey.” Steve grins, the cool air of confidence from before coming back and you hate that it makes your cheeks burn even worse the second time around.

“Well,” you start unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze as the two of you make your way to the next set of escalators with nerves rattling in your chest as the new floor brings more people, and it makes it impossible for him to keep his distance this time, “now you know where it is.” 

“Is that an invitation?” He smirks looking down at you, teeth gleaming even whiter from this close and butterfly wings tickle at your rib cage.

“Getting a new purse for your girlfriend?” You ask in an attempt to dodge his obvious flirting, doing your best to ignore the way his fingers keep bumping into yours as you share the same step.

“Mom, actually. No girlfriend.” Your obvious prying makes something smug flash behind his eyes. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?” 

You huff with a roll of your eyes, unable to fight the way your cheeks push up again despite the shake of your head earning a deep chuckle from Steve who can see right through you.

“I actually just moved here, maybe a month ago,” he starts, your heart sinking a little at his reveal and your walls that had started to slowly retreat quickly go back up the few inches they dared to come down. “M parents, they’re….they’re tough to impress, and I’m just trying to find something nice for my Mom. Something that screams ‘Hey! Merry Christmas! I didn’t make a big mistake moving here!’ You know?”

You nod with the kind of laugh that makes his eyes sparkle at the noise.

“A purse absolutely says that, I think.” Your words drip with sarcasm as the two of you make your way onto the third floor, shoulders bumping as you turn towards the next set of moving stairs, both your feet landing on the same metal step again. 

“You know, I thought so too.” He beams, not missing a beat. “What about you? Got any fun plans with your boyfriend for Christmas?”

Before you have a chance to answer, an impatient woman choosing to walk the escalators in the kind of rush you should really be in knocks into Steve’s back with her shoulder, making him lose his balance and stumble into you. Large hands grab at your waist to steady himself, the warmth of his palms spreading through your body as it seeps through the thin material of your slacks. The steady beating in your heart stutters before your pulse kicks into overdrive when the mint on his breath fans against your neck for the second time as he mutters an apology finding his balance again. You bite at the inside of your cheek when he finally lets you go, straightening up to his full height again.

“Gotta love the holidays.” You laugh, letting out a shaky breath that threatens to give you away.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year, or that’s what they say.” Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair again. 

He somehow leaves it even messier than before, and you have to fight the urge to fix it for him, as the top of the fourth floor comes into view along with the end of your time with the man you only half way regret helping now.

“The answer to your question is no, by the way.” You finally speak up, a mischievous glint in your eye that matches your smile.

“No you don’t have any fun plans? Or No you don’t have a boyfriend?” He tries to clarify, with the kind of lopsided grin that has your knees wobbling under it.

You don’t have time to recover when the ground underneath you stops moving as you both hit the bright red carpet of the women’s department. The fast moving crowd and the fact that you’re pushing nearly twenty minutes late for work is the perfect escape you need to get yourself out of making the mistake of staying long enough for the charming new to the city bachelor to ask for your phone number. 

“Handbags are over there.” You point to the giant Michael Kors logo that shines gold against a hot pink wall behind him, and you seize the moment he turns to follow the direction of your finger to hop back onto the escalators without a word.

You laugh echoes and bubbles over the even happier sounds of the Christmas music when Steve turns around to find you already half way up to the fifth floor.

“Really?” He throws his hands up, watching as you climb higher.

“I’m late for work! I hope your mom likes her gift!” You wave with the kind of smile that he’s sure will haunt his dreams tonight, that makes the corners of his lips twitch despite himself. “It definitely screams you didn’t make a mistake! Nice meeting you Steve!”

It had been four days since your run in with Steve, and much to your dismay that disheveled head of hair didn’t want to leave your mind no matter how much you tried. His breath stealing smile, and freckled skin invaded every day dream and even found their way into the ones in your sleep. No matter how many times you tell yourself that a man who looks like that has endless opportunities in a city like this, and he’s not going to tie himself down with a waitress who still splits her rent with a roommate. 

A change of scenery and a day off spent alone at the Christmas market is almost enough to do the trick as you search for ornaments to put on the tree your roommate Eddie tried to stop you from getting, arguing that he’d have to be the one to take care of it if you got a real one. Which to be fair, ended up being true, but when you catch him reading Lord of the Rings under its twinkling lights, you don’t think he minds it all that much.   

A few ornaments, two hot ciders, and a record shop later, you find yourself waiting for the train home looking at the sunset that paints the skyline in sherbet orange and red behind shimmering buildings. Lost in the music that spills from your AirPods, flashing lights catch at the corners of your eye, and the sounds of the holiday train start to get louder as its bright presence rolls up to the platform. The Santa that you know has to be freezing waves at everyone that’s waiting as it pulls in, and you can’t stop the way your cheeks push up despite the annoyance you would have normally felt if you were actually commuting somewhere in a rush.

The workers dressed as elves greet you with baskets of candy cane’s and bright smiles when the doors open, and relief floods your system when you see the train car is mostly empty. You give them a friendly wave and a nod, accepting the sweet treat before claiming your seat for the nine stops you needed to pass to get home. Red and green string lights flash strung up from the ceilings, and the silver metal poles that stick through the middle now resemble the candy they're passing out. The white fluorescent lighting that usually washes everyone out is replaced with a deep blue, and the faint sounds of  Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ battles for dominance with the music in your headphones.

Relaxing into your seat, you let the steady rocking of the train lull you back into your thoughts, disappointed when they inevitably go back to the man you’ve been trying to forget. Thighs pressing at the memory at the feeling of his hands grabbing at your hips on the escalator, you huff and cross your arms in a silent pout. How can you have a crush on someone you don’t even know? 

The car starts to fill up more and more as the stops go, and by the third one you’re squeezing your tote bag to your chest with people surrounding you as they hold onto the plastic handles above your head. It’s hard to see anything above anyone’s waist, and you shuffle a little awkwardly in your seat. The spot in front of you frees up by the next stop and at the same time your AirPods die, a sigh of relief slips past your lips at the brief reprieve before the group waiting outside scurries in. That’s when you hear him…again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. First the damn bus, now the train? Jesus fuck- exuse me, god, I’m gonna be so late.”

The familiar smell of cedar and cinnamon envelopes your senses when a pair of black dress slacks fill your vision with a gold belt buckle on his waist that matches the chain you already know is dangling from his neck, and the ring on the hand that’s gripping the handle above you. 

You curse under your breath, taking your AirPods out and the muffled sound of Dean Martin’s ‘Let It Snow’ becomes full volume, along with the clinking of the metal tracks when the train lurches forward. Leaning back in your seat, you let your eyes wander up his broad torso you’ve reluctantly thought so much about. Steve’s a little more dressed up than the last time you saw him with a white button up tucked into his slacks. You can still make out the outline of his tank top underneath, despite the dim lighting, and the way he leaves the top two buttons undone flashes you a little bit of chest hair. The chocolate peacoat is replaced with a black one that has buttons to match. It fits around his arms just as good as the other one. 

His five o’clock shadow is gone now, and he somehow has even more freckles than before. Too distracted by him to scold yourself for having the urge to find and kiss them all, his messy bed head look he had the other day is replaced with something a little more controlled, and you wonder how much product he needed to use, especially that despite it all, a stray still threatens to fall across his forehead. 

“Not a fan of the holiday train are we?” 

Steve jumps at the sound of your voice, his eyes looking every direction but down until you clear your throat. They widen when they land on you just like the smile that spreads across his face, wiping away any signs of annoyance that plagued his features just seconds before.

“You!” He almost laughs, and he’s even more handsome than you remembered and you wonder how long it's going to take you recover this time, “Oh wow —“ even in the blue light you can see the way the color in his cheeks redden when he realizes that his crotch is unintentionally in your face, “let me just -“

He scoots back as far as he can which isn’t much but it’s enough to make the position the two of you find yourselves in less awkward.

“Well, well, well so we meet again.” He practically beams taking in your appearance now that you’re not dressed to go wait tables, catching the way he licks his lips before bringing his eyes back to yours. 

“It would appear so Steve.” Your smirk, proud of yourself for keeping up the act of playing hard to get.

“What do they call these things? Christmas Miracles?” His confident demeanor reappears and you’re disappointed that it sets your body on fire just like before.

Your snort loud enough for him to hear, earning you a deep chuckle from his chest that gets him that smile of yours he can’t stop thinking about.

“You think you’re so smooth don’t you?” You tease, biting at your bottom lip, meeting his eyes from under your lashes watching the way it makes the green and gold inside them turn into something darker.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” He winks, closing the space he made between you to let someone off behind him holding your stare from down the slope of his nose.

You narrow your eyes at him before you roll them but the twitch of your lips gives you away making his grin turn Cheshire.

“Where are you off to this dressed up? Hot date?” You question with an arched brow.

“For someone who’s pretending not to have a crush on me, you’re certainly fixated on if I’m dating someone aren’t you?” Shaking his head, he’s even more smug than he was on the escalators, “but no, beautiful, I’m on my way to meet a business partner for dinner.”

There he goes using that word beautiful again.

“What about you? The missing uniform tells me it must be your day off, spend it with that boyfriend of yours?” Steve smirks trying to get the definitive answer you refused him a few days ago.

“You’re calling me fixated? I’m not the one obsessing over an imaginary boyfriend I made up for someone else.” 

Steve throws his head back in a booming laugh as a bright smile lights up his face in a way that rivals the train. 

“I bet you think you’re so funny don’t you?” He mimics your previous sentiment with an intensity in his gaze that has you squirming in your seat.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” Biting your lip as you wink, his hold around the handle tightens, and the gold in his eyes darken more. “I’m surprised you’re heading out of the loop so dressed up, where’s this hot business date?”

Steve’s smile falters, and the color you’re so used to warming his face drains along with the intensity of his gaze.

“What do you mean out of the loop?” That panic you’d heard shaking his voice a few days ago returns, as he tears his eyes away from you to look at the map above your head. 

“Oh no, Steve.” You realize the mistake he’s made before he does.

“No, no, no, no,” he groans, stomping a shiny wingtip oxford on the dirty ground. “God, Richard, fuck - he’s going to be so pissed at me.”

He says the last part more to himself, regripping his hold on the handle, brows furrowing as he pinches his eyes shut in frustration. His chest heaves a few times, and the veins in his neck start to show before you hear his quiet exhale over the sounds of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

“Hey,” You start, and sweetness drips from your tone as you resist the urge to reach out and comfort him, “I’m getting off on the next stop, you can come with me if you want and I’ll help you get on the right train. It’s an easy mistake, really. We’ve all done it.”

He doesn’t open his eyes immediately, and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down but slowly they blink back open and meet yours. The teasing edge behind them is gone as they soften around the edges with exhaustion.

“I think I owe you my life at this point, honestly.” He huffs with a weak laugh and you know if his hair wasn’t done his hand would be running through it right now. 

“Just a little bit.” You tease pinching two fingers together with a scrunch of your nose.

“Thank you,” he holds your stare, sincerity painting his features with something that makes you want to stand up and hug him. 

“Anytime,” you shrug and it’s harder to fake being nonchalant when he looks at you like that. 

The train starts to slow down as it approaches your stop, and the people around you become restless as they prepare to push through the crowded car to get off. Your body reacts like muscle memory when it comes to a halt with another lurch, and you stand up without thinking about the little bit of space that separates you and the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about all week. 

Your chest brushes against a hard set of abs before and even harder set of pecs, the cedar and sandalwood of his cologne is stronger than the last time it took over your senses like this. Fresh. The faint smell of his aftershave tickles your nose, and the heat of his breath warms against the berry chapstick on your lips. The realization of your mistake hits right as you lose your balance, and your body falls flush against his.

“Whoa, honey.” Steve chuckles, one of his big hands grabbing firmly on the soft curve of your hip to hold you in place, and you swear you can taste the spearmint of his gum against your tongue from his proximity.

Your hands reach out on instinct grabbing at his waist, making the muscles underneath flex from your touch and you can just faintly hear his sharp intake of breath because of it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry.” You bumble, instantly regretting looking up to meet his gaze. The smirk of his pink full lips has all your blood rushing to your cheeks as you quickly try to untangle yourself from him.

“You’re fine,” he laughs in your ear as you push past him, and it sends a shiver through your bones, especially when you can feel the heat of his body behind you as he follows.

The wind hits your face stepping onto the platform and the chill in the air feels good against your skin. People rush and zoom all around you as they try and make their next connection while you and Steve stand under the sign that flashes the next train times. In a loud roar, the holiday spectacle departs with jingling bells that ring off into the distance along with the whir of the crowd leaving you and Steve alone. You try to ignore the tension that bubbles under his stare against the back of your head, threatening to spill over any second as you pull out your phone.

“You live around here?” He’s the first one to break the silence stepping next to you, his gaze shifting curiously to your phone screen.

“Yeah, like three blocks away.” You answer absently, scrolling through the train lines too distracted by your search for the right directions to give him.

He hums quietly in response, pulling out his own phone from his coat pocket. His energy shifts from the panic on the train to something calmer, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. A nervousness still lingers in his shaky exhale that pushes through his nose, rocking back on his heels before shoving his phone in his pocket.

“What if we went out to dinner instead?” Steve blurts out, and his hand that’s been itching to run through his hair finally does, “I mean if you don’t have any plans right now.”

“Didn’t you say it was a work dinner Steve?” You laugh, finally daring to look up at your phone at him. Big mistake. 

The wind catches his hair, and that long dark honeyed strand falls against his forehead while his teeth gleam at you in a hopeful smile.

“I feel like I kind of already missed it,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be there now and if I read those directions on your phone correctly it said what? - 45 minutes to get there?”

You glance down and see the bold numbers that only seem to go up as the minutes pass and rush hour starts to kick in. 

“Besides, I owe you dinner for coming to my rescue twice in one week. I think the universe is really trying to get us to go get drinks if you ask me sweetheart.” 

You laugh a little nervous, rolling your eyes to try and hide how you aren’t immune to his charms but the glint that sparkles in his stare tells you that it’s not working.

“I mean, I guess it’s only fair. I don’t want to mess with fate and all.” You sigh, and it makes his whole face light up, “but if Richard fires you, that’s not my fault.”

“You have my word, if this dinner ruins the entire reason I moved out here. I will not blame you.” He raises his hand in the air like he’s swearing under oath.

“Steve!” You gasp, shoving his arm, and it has him throw his head back in a loud laugh that echoes through the empty platform.

“I’m kidding, that’s not going to happen. I don’t think.” He grins, earning another eye roll from you, but he’s too giddy to care.

You choose the cozy little Ramen spot on the corner called The Furious Spoon that’s only two blocks from the train station. It’s a close enough walk to easily brave the deep chill that follows with the setting sun and casual enough so that this doesn't feel like something you’re telling yourself it’s not. 

A date.

The warmth of the restaurant hits your frozen cheeks, thawing the parts of you that got bitten from the cold. Ainese hangs thick in the air, making your mouth water while the two of you make your way to the empty seats at the end of the long table that lines the side of the restaurant. You pretend not to feel his hand on the small of your back despite it burning a hole through your jacket as you push through the puffy coats that drape over the stools on either side of you.

Shrugging your layers off, both of you follow suit finding a home for them on the wide rectangular seats. Steve tuts at you when you go to pull your seat out waving your hand away.

“Seriously? No.” You half whisper yell, but the corners of your lips twist up and he decides it’s an empty objection pulling your seat out for you with a wave of his hand gesturing you to sit.

“My mom would kill me if I didn’t,” he swears but his smirk tells you not to believe a word he says as he puts both his hands on either side of your stool, spearmint hot on his breath against the shell of your ear. Cedar and clove on the fabrics of his clothes, it feels like he’s everywhere as he gives you two pushes in.

His knee bumps into yours as he takes the seat next to you, and another waft of his cologne hits your nose. Biting your lip, you decide to distract yourself with the menu as you actively try to make sure your leg doesn’t bounce with anxious energy. The restaurant is more crowded than you expected and Steve’s closer than you wanted. Your heart thumps wildly against your rib cage, scaring the butterflies that laid dormant for the few days in his absence right as they had started to stretch their wings. 

“This all looks so good,” he hums, eyes scanning over the menu before bringing his attention back to you, chestnut and gold shimmering in the low light as he looks down the slope of his nose, licking his full lips, “Do you have a favorite?”

You can’t stop your gaze from flicking down to his mouth, words threatening to get caught on the tip of your tongue watching the way the corners curl up into a grin, small dimples pushing into his tan skin when he catches you.

“Depends on what you like protein wise, but my go to is The Mother Clucker.” You manage to get out, trying to clear out the nerves out of your throat.

“Excuse me,” he snorts, “the what?”

Rolling your eyes, you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as you lean over tapping a red polished nail to the chicken option on the top.

“Do you need glasses Steve?” You giggle watching him squint to read it.

The question makes him look at you out of the corner of his eyes with a narrow stare. 

“I’ve had perfect vision since high school. Thank you very much.” He scoffs holding the menu further away as if to help him focus on the small bold lettering. 

“Sure looks like it, my mistake.” Raising a hand in mock surrender, the gesture makes him knock his knee with yours earning him a giggle.

“Here I am skipping out on an important work dinner to spend my night showing you how grateful I am and you’re just bullying me.” Steve only manages to keep a straight face until you hit him with a soft smack on his shoulder, a full bellied laugh escaping him when whatever retort you’re ready to give gets cut off by your server finally coming to the table.

Steve’s charm flows from him with ease as he speaks to the young guy with a big septum ring and spiked hair. He talks to him like they’ve been lifelong friends when you place your orders and it reminds you how easily he got that same genuine smile from you just a few days ago at work, and again now as you sit next to him for dinner instead of writing him off like you told yourself you would. Your stomach twists in knots when his knee bumps against yours and stays there, the warmth of his body seeping through the fabric of his slacks and your jeans.

“So did you end up finding your Mom a gift that screams ‘I didn’t make a mistake’?” You question resting your cheek in the palm of your hand as you lean on the table with your elbow, you lift your chin up a little at him and it makes him flush.

“Oh yeah,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “I-I didn’t actually, so that's great. I’ll probably just get her a nice set of earrings or something, it won’t matter in the end anyways.”

His eyebrows knit together and for the first time all night he purposely avoids your gaze with a sip of his water. Your eyes follow the movements of his throat as he swallows.

“What do you mean it won’t matter?” You press, curiosity getting the best of you watching his confidence slip.

“My parents aren’t exactly thrilled that I moved out here to help with this start up, instead of taking over their family business back home. It’s a long story, but it was a big argument, well - multiple big arguments when I told them I was leaving.” He sighs, and you can see the dread of their arrival start to hang over his head like storm clouds. “Besides we never really spent Christmas together my whole life anyway, they were always traveling for work, so this whole thing is just -“ He rubs at his temple, “a thing.”

He runs his fingers through his hair without abandon this time.

“Ahhh,” you hum as missing pieces of Steve’s puzzle are revealed and you hate yourself for finding him more attractive because of it. 

“What about you?” He nods his head in your direction, mimicking your stance resting his head in his hand, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Well,” you start, more nerves settling deep in your chest as you start to lay some of your cards down, “I don’t go home for the holidays cause I usually have work. But me and my family get along fine, I guess. But my roommate usually goes to visit his uncle so I’ll probably order something really expensive to eat and watch a Christmas movie I don’t hate.” 

You shrug trying to hide that sometimes it does get to you, not having a full house of loud laughter or even someone to spend the day with, but the look in Steve’s eyes makes you feel like he sees you. He gets it.

“Favorite Christmas movie?” He asks without missing a beat.

“Oh, easy, The Grinch.” you snort.

“Fitting for you.” he winks, despite the tips of his ears turning red when your shoe finds his under the table.

“Rude. What about you? huh?” Your lashes flutter as you bite your lip feeling him start to play footsie with you. 

“Jingle All The Way, Arnold’s my guy.” He smiles big at the giggle you give him, and it warms your face just like his hand that slides further down his thigh, dangerously close to yours.

The bubble you find yourselves in pops abruptly when the smell of your soup hits your nose. Two large bowls get set down in front of you, steam pouring off the tops so much it fogs the glass window.

“You would like Arnold,” you manage to whisper yell over your servers arm and it’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, ignoring you giving the waiter a pat on the back with a ‘thanks man.’

The rest of your dinner is filled with easy conversion and touches that linger more than they should, just like the secret paths heavy lidded gazes make to each other’s lips that aren’t so secret in the dim lighting with your feet still intertwined. You hate that as you learn more about him, the more you want to know. The questions come with follow up questions as he tells you about the life that he left behind, his best friend Robin who he hasn’t spent more than six hours without for the last five years and how it feels like he’s missing a limb. 

It feels mutual as both of you sit there long after your bowls are empty, snow falling from a now completely dark sky as Steve listens to you tell a story from high school like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. Just like the stories about you and Eddie before that, or the one about how you lost your I.D on a crazy night out. All of them felt like he was hanging on every word, and having his full attention like this made your stomach flip. The buzzing of your phone is what ends the night when your eyes catch how late it really is.

“Oh my god, is it really almost nine?” You gasp, but Steve seems unfazed, just like the tip of his shoe running up your calf.

“I’m actually surprised they didn’t kick us out,” he smirks, chuckling to himself before straightening his back. Deep crimson filling his cheeks when you both can hear the loud pop.

You’d tease him but you were too busy already missing his touch. God. Dammit.

“I should really get going, I didn’t realize we’ve been here for like three hours. I gotta be at work super early for this breakfast with Santa we’re doing,”  You huff, standing up and the change in energy is almost enough to make Steve’s head spin.

“You live like a block away, I think you’ll get home fairly quickly.” He looks at you confused as he stands up, watching you stuff your arms in your coat with a struggle with tangled sleeves.

“I just, I promised Eddie I’d be home at a certain time and he gets all worried when I’m not,” It’s a lie but you aren’t going to tell him that your panic is from the fear that spending this much time with him has now pushed you past the point of no return. 

He’s never going to leave your mind now.

“Let me walk you,” He insists, slipping on his coat with ease, broad shoulders filling it perfectly.

“I think you should worry about getting yourself home,” you tease, buttoning your coat that you won the fight with.

“Yeah, I can’t chance it, not without my good luck charm,” he winks and your knees wobble, “I’m calling an Uber. Can’t get lost that way.” 

“Let’s hope so,” you smirk, bumping shoulders with him despite yourself as you walk past.

“Hey! I thought we were friends now.” He whines following close behind, both of you giving a small wave to your server on the way out.

The cold air hits you the moment the swinging glass door opens, sending a shiver up your spine, tugging your coat closer, you silently curse the hint of cedar you catch on the fabric.

“Are we friends now?” You arch a brown turning on your heel to face him as you both hit the sidewalk.

“I was hoping,” he gives you that smile, the kind that you know always gets him what he wants, and god do you want to give it to him. But the gold shimmering on his belt and the reminder that he just moved here makes you stubborn and weary. “Maybe if you give me your number, we can do this again sometime and find out?”

“How about this,” you suck at the inside of your cheek loudly, and you almost feel bad when you see how his face drops, “If we run into each other again, you can have my number.”

Steve stares at you for a second, disbelief painting over all of his pretty features, but he’s quick to recover with a hand through his hair and a new poker face.

“Deal.” He sticks his hand out and now it’s you who has to take a minute to recover, “What? I accept.”

You narrow your eyes at him before you place your palm into his, that charming smile outshining the white snow that falls onto his long lashes. He purposely holds it longer than he should, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life when the warm pad of his thumb starts to rub small circles into your soft skin. 

“Till the next time beautiful, who knows, maybe I won’t take an Uber home. Take a gamble. I wonder who could possibly show up to rescue me.” He starts, earning another shoulder slap and a gasped ‘Steve!’

“Do not do that, Uber home you maniac.” You pull your hand away no matter how much you don’t want to, especially when he trails the tips of his fingers down your palm as he lets go.

“You win this time,” He grins pulling out his phone, and you watch him click the app before you start to walk towards the direction of home.

“I win every time, Steve.” You wink, taking a mental picture of the way it makes him bite his lip before you turn away hoping you didn’t just make some huge mistake.

Secretly hoping Steve Harrington gets lost again.

[astermath]

unexpected guest *ੈ✩‧

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve isn’t too pleased when you come home with a stray kitten. money is tight, you’re both working full time, and he was never too fond of cats to begin with. somehow, you manage to convince him to keep it anyways.

word count: 1.7K

tags: established relationship, steve and reader are living together in Indianapolis, normal sized font below the cut!

notes: been a little unmotivated recently but nothing motivates me like imagining steve harrington holding a cute animal tbh. he always struck me as a dog type, but I feel like he’d enjoy cats too. thanks to @inkluvs for helping me decide on a title and rambling with me &lt;3

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content! requests are open!

The pitter patter of heavy rain made for an eerie symphony outside the apartment you shared with Steve. The air is foggy, humid, and it usually wouldn't make him feel this unsettled. No, in fact, he quite likes the rain. When he's inside at least, cuddled up with you on the couch to inevitably watch whatever you wanted on the TV.

But the apartment is empty, at an hour when it normally shouldn't be. Steve's eyes find the faint red glow of the oven's clock; you should have been home an hour ago. Worry settles in his stomach at the thought of all the reasons you could possibly be late. Maybe you were stuck somewhere, kidnapped, or worse.

His socked feet tread along your hardwood floor, pacing with his lip caught under his teeth. Steve knows you’re a capable woman who can handle herself, but you’re never late. He knows you’re always getting home as fast as you can, having missed him and your lovely apartment all day.

He's already reaching for the phone to call you when he hears the familiar jingle of your keys behind the door. A feeling of intense relief washes over him when you open the door and he's met with your beautiful appearance. Wet, messy, and disheveled, but beautiful.

He wastes no time, strong arms winding around you as soon as your coat is off, face buried in your soaked hair.

You chuckle, awkwardly shuffling one of your arms from in between the embrace to rub over his back.

"You're late." He mumbles into the crown of your head, before pressing a kiss into it.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just got really held up at work."

Steve frowns at your excuse. Your boss is really nice, and you're usually never back late. Plus, it's a Tuesday, the café you work at couldn't have been that busy, right?

That's when he notices your other hand, clutching a bag filled with what at first glance seems like random stuff and a blanket.

"Whatcha got there, hm?" He pulls away slightly, head tilting to motion to your mystery bag.

"Oh, nothing," you try your best at a convincing smile, "just some leftovers from work." You swallow, and when you meet your boyfriend's eyes he's giving you that look. It's the same one he gives you when you ate the last bit of ice cream, or when you try to get out of running errands. You suck at lying, you're both well aware of that.

The silence is broken when a soft, squeaky noise erupts from the bag. Your feeble attempt at covering it up with a forced cough is apparently not enough, because Steve is now reaching for the bag, wanting to see for himself what you'd brought in with you.

"N-No, Steve!" You pull your arm away, careful not to shuffle the bag around too much. Whatever was inside was probably fragile, he thought. "It's a, uhm... It's a-- a surprise!" You try to sneak past him to head to your bedroom, but he stops you by wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

"Honey," he leans his head down so his lips are close to your ear. If you weren't so focused on covering up what was in the bag, you were sure your knees would have buckled at the sound of his sultry voice, "you're gonna tell me what's in the bag, alright?"

Your shoulders drop slightly, a defeated sigh emitting from you as you turn around. "Will you promise not to get mad?"

"Sugar..." His brows furrow, already worried about what's it going to be.

"I'm serious," you look up at him with puppy eyes, "promise?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He could never deny you anything when you were looking at him like that. "Fine, promise. Just-- Just show me, alright?"

You crouch down, taking off the blanket that was pretty much drenched from the rain to reveal a box. You're really careful, hands a little shaky, and Steve's curiosity grows by the second.

Finally, you open up the box. He has to squint for a moment, not sure what he's seeing exactly, so he crouches down across you to have a better look.

In the corner of the box is a tiny lump of black fur, mewling surprisingly loud for its small size. Its blue eyes are almost entirely overtaken by the size of its pupils, and it's shaking a little from what he can only assume to be the cold.

"Baby, where did you--"

"Side of the road." You reached out to run a single finger under the kitten's chin, and it wobbles a little from the contact. It couldn't be more than a few weeks old. "It was all alone, sopping wet and shivering." You sniffle, and Steve's heart nearly shatters at the sight of you tearing up over it.

"It probably wouldn't have survived if I didn't do anything," a stray tear rolls down your cheek, "so I took it to the vet for an emergency checkup, got some wet cat food, and-- I don't know, I just... Look at it, Stevie."

The small feline stares at him, not scared, just curious as to who this large creature in front of it is. Steve frowns, resisting the urge to pet it before he starts to grow an actual attachment to it.

"Honey, you know we can't keep it..."

"Why not?" You sound hurt, but you know all the reasons why. First of all, Steve doesn't even like cats. He's always been a dog person, wanting to live out his six children fantasy with a golden retriever as a pet one day. Second of all, money is tight. You both work your asses off trying to save up for a better place someday, an actual house, and a pet can bring a lot of unforeseen costs with it. Yet something in you remains hopeful. That something is also aware of the effect you have on your boyfriend, and how convincing you can be.

He gives you a thin lipped smile in an attempt to comfort you, but you're not meeting his eyes. You're too focused on the little blessing in front of you, that you've already secretly named; Olive.

Steve tries to lean in and hug you, but suddenly, the kitten jumps out of the box and onto his lap. He feels its little baby claws go straight through the fabric of his sweatpants, wincing slightly at the feeling as he attempts to capture the little rascal in his hands. To no avail, as little Olive keeps climbing up his lap and onto his sweatshirt. It's surprisingly fast, for how tiny it is.

"H-Hey, come on now, this is my favorite sweater! You're puttin' holes in it you little demon!" Steve seems a little frazzled, not sure how to delicately handle an animal this small. It seems so tiny and fragile, yet it’s jumping around like it’s Spider-man or something.

You watch as your boyfriend continuously tries to remove the kitten from clawing at his sweater, and though you’re trying to be serious about convincing him and all that, it’s kind of hard when you’re looking at just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You’re already so weak for the sight of Steve by himself, let alone accompanied by an adorable little cat.

Eventually he gets a hold of Olive, holding her up with his hands as it tries to gnaw at his fingers. “Oh you’re totally staying in air jail now young lady.” He glances over at you. “She’s a girl cat right?”

You nod, and he can tell you’re holding back your laugh.

“What?”

You snort. “Nothing, just— for someone who doesn’t want a cat, you already seem pretty attached.”

“Wha— I— Ow!” he winces when Olive starts digging her sharp little fangs into his thumb. He doesn’t let go of her though, still holding her up with a gentle grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just— disciplining her for the next person to get her.”

“Mhm, totally.” You grin, reaching out to pet the little black lump of fur he’s holding. She seems to respond much calmer to your touch. “Maybe… You wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of fostering her then?��� You look up with those same puppy eyes again, and Steve thinks this is probably the deadliest combo he’s ever witnessed. Not only does he have to deal with your pleading gaze, but it’s now accompanied by the cutest little animal too. He’s only human, after all.

He sighs, carefully setting Olive back down into her box. He just looks at her for a second, surprised at how full of life she is. He always thought cats were lazy and indifferent to their surroundings, but this little one was practically bouncing off the walls.

“No—“ he starts.

“But Stevie!”

“Uh uh uh!” he holds up a finger, halting your sounds of protest. “You didn’t let me finish, sugar.”

You huff, rolling your eyes.

“I was gonna say, no,” he reaches out a single finger to scratch under Olive’s chin, “because I have a feeling we’re just going to keep her anyways.” His eyes return to yours, and he can see the hopeful glint in your expression. “You really like her, don’t you?”

You nod, smiling warmly. “Do you?”

“Well,” he wiggles finger, watching how she tries to play with it, “maybe she’s growing on me a little.”

“You love her.” You grin.

“Well, what can I say, I got a lot of love to give.” He reaches out his arm to pull you close, wrapping around your shoulder and planting a kiss on your head. You both just sit there on the floor for a while, playing with your newfound pet until she gets all tuckered out.

“You know,” you speak softly, not wanting to wake her up, “I’m really glad you agreed to keep her.”

Steve smiles, eyes still watching Olive sleep so peacefully. The contrast to her previous hyper activeness is stark. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Well,” You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I have a feeling she’s going to fit in here well. Like a little family.”

His heart swells with warmth at the word ‘family’. You know that means a lot to him, and in a way, he agrees. It’s a great first step to building something more akin to a home.

“And… Maybe I already got her chipped and registered at the vet before I got here.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you did.”

“Love you.” you chuckle, knowing he’s going to forgive you for your impulsiveness either way.

He kisses your head once more. “Love you too.”

tag list <3

@palmtreesx3

[ja3yun]

Rudolph | S.JY

bf!jake x gf!reader

warnings: suggestive, fluff, lap dance (it's unserious), they're cringy and in love, not proofread anything else lmk!

wc: 2.2k+

synopsis: jake gets a secret santa present from work and he wants to show you what he got, giving you a present of your own.

a/n: hi! this is just a short, fluffy, unserious one shot for xmas. i was intending to make this smutty but i left it where it is because i got lazy. anyway, happy holidays from mine to yours <3 i hope santa is good to you.

“FREEDOM!” Jake bursts through the door, his voice booming across your shared flat, “Out of office is on, alarms are off, Christmas is upon us, and I am free for the next 2 glorious weeks.” 

It’s finally the 23rd of December which means Jake has finished up work for the holiday period. After a year of working countless overtime, he was never more thankful for this time off.

You look up from the couch and smile widely, matching his excitement, “Did you get away early?” It’s not like him to come home this time of the day, which is sad because it’s 6pm.

“Mhm, the boss had a thing with his in-laws so he wrapped everything up quickly and told us to get lost” Jake imitates wrapping a present and tying a bow before pretending to kick it away as he speaks, your boyfriend was always so animated when he was excited.

He places the shoes he slipped off in the caddy and replaces them with his bell ringing elf slippers. To say Jake loved Christmas would be the understatement of the century. The 2 weeks off were lush, that’s true, but the whole season was so precious to him. Everyone was happier than usual, he could eat and drink as much as he wanted and just use the excuse ‘it’s Christmas’, and he got to spend time with you.

Unfortunately, you don’t have the luxury of a paid holiday but you always get at least 4 days in a row work free which is a rarity. Those 4 days you never ever take for granted.

Spying a red and gold gift bag at his feet piques your curiosity, “Ooh did you buy me something?” 

Jake scoffs and skips over to you with it in hand, “Eh, excuse me, I am actually liked in my work and someone got me a gift.” He held his head proud before sitting down next to you.

“Right, you mean you got your Secret Santa present today that your boss forces on you every year?” You lift your eyebrows waiting for him to respond.

“Well yeah, but mandatory or not,” He waves the bag in your face, “I got a present.” 

Swatting it away, your eyes roll as you smile. He looked proud as punch to have gotten something, “Did you open it?”

“Do pigeons fly in the sky? Of course I opened it.” Traditionally, you’re supposed to wait until the 25th to open any gift but it wasn't going to be gold, frankincense, or myrrh, so big boy Jesus in the sky isn’t going to care if presents are opened before his birthday.

“So what did you get?” You try to sneak a look in the bag but he pulls it away and tuts.

“I got the usual, socks, a festive tie, sample bottles of whiskey, and,” A smirk graces his face when he remembers what else he got, “Actually, there might be a present for you in here.”

Puzzled, you eye the bag up once again but he stands up, “I’ll be right back, baby.” Leaving a peck on your lips he dashes out, gift bag in hand, waddling like a kid about to show his parents his new drawing from school. Jake was so cute you could cry.

After a few minutes you hear the jingle from his slippers once again, “Okay, baby close your eyes,” your overly excited boyfriend shouts from the bathroom, “close them tight!” His voice is filled with glee.

“They’re shut!” Shouting back, you wonder what it could be. All you hear is the sound of his slippers trotting towards you and all you can do is laugh. 

Once you feel his presence standing in front of you, the urge to open your eyes is too much to resist, so you peek one open. 

Jake is standing there with his arms spread wide and mouth with the biggest cheeser you’ve ever seen, “Ta-da!” He wiggles his hips to drag your focus down and you cannot believe what you are seeing.

An eruption of laughter fills the room as you double over, your chest losing all ability to breathe at the sight in front of you. Jake laughs along with you, “Good, right?”

Jake stands there in nothing but his elf slippers and a g-string which has his cock tucked into a pouch that’s designed to be Rudolph’s face. The novelty underwear is not at all what you were expecting and you still can’t string a word together for the hilarity of it all.

He turns around to showcase the thong aspect of his underwear, “I do think this finally shows that I have an ass.” In any other circumstance, you probably would make a sarcastic quip about how he’s never going to beat the flat ass allegations but you can’t even look at him, burying your face in the couch seat next to you.

Not helping the situation at all he starts flexing his muscles like he’s in some body building contest, “Do you like it?” His eyes are shining as he looks down at you, your happiness and laughter will always be his favourite thing to witness, even if it means embarrassing himself like this for you. Although, truth be told, he isn’t embarrassed at all, he never is when he’s with you.

“Who bought you that?” You wheeze out, trying to regain some composure.

“I don’t know, it’s a secret Santa, remember.” He has a suspicion it’s either Jay or Sunghoon but it’s one and the same, he’ll find out eventually. 

Poking the red nose at the tip of his cock you howl when it lights up, “Oh my fucking god.”

“I didn’t even know it did that! How cool.” If his smile gets any wider his face will split in half. You look so fascinated by it, your hands guide him to twist around and showcase his butt again, “See what I mean with the ass? I’ve got cake.”

Slapping his left butt cheek you laugh, “Yeah, yeah.” It’s Christmas so just like some people believe in Santa, you’ll let him believe he’s double cheeked up.

“Want another surprise?” Jake wiggles his eyebrows and leans down to kiss you, lips soft and gentle against yours. Placing one of his hands on your face he grins widely before pulling away, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, “Yes or no?” 

“Yeah, I do.” He plants one more kiss on your lips and walks away, leaving you time to take in your boyfriend’s body. Someone so lovely and goofy shouldn’t also be graced with such a gorgeous body. He’s the perfect package.

Music infiltrates your ears as the melody of Nat King Cole’s ‘The Christmas Song’ blares from your hi-fi. Jake seductively walks back to you, his eyes narrower than before, “Sit back and feel free to tip me.”

Oh god, “Sim Jaeyun you are NOT giving me a lapdance in that thong.” He cannot be serious, Nat King Cole nor Rudolph deserve this.

His hands run down his body and his teeth take hold of his bottom lip, “C’mon, baby, let me take it for a ride.” 

Lap dances weren't something you guys did a lot of, most of the time it was you just showing off your new bra and panty sets, so to see him eagerly swing his hips and offer you one, you can’t really refuse.

Taking your hands, he puts them on his chest and guides them down to his toned tummy. Whoever sculpted him in their lab must have had you in mind because he was everything you could have asked for. You keep your hands on his v-line and claw at each side slightly, he loves to be scratched like this.

Jake’s cock twitches at your action and it makes Rudolph jerk up, causing another laugh to leave you. Your boyfriend is too caught up in the feeling of your hands on him that he doesn’t even register what you’re laughing at, “Hmm?”

“Rudolph’s getting a bit excited,” You say smiling, staring at the garment.

“I heard he likes to be petted.” Jake jokes, wiggling his cock in your face. 

Looking into the wide eyes of the pouch as it moves from side to side is actually quite unsettling, like he’s pleading for help to be off your boyfriend's penis, something you can’t relate to, “Jake please you’re giving Rudolph whiplash.”

Stilling his hips he takes your left hand and puts it over his clothed member, waiting for you to stroke down, but when you don’t he pouts, “You’re going to make him sad.”

“This is supposed to be my present.” You state, removing your hand and sitting back, “I’m still waiting for it.” 

Jake smirks because you’re playing his game back to him. Honestly, he’s so lucky to have you, someone who just goes with whatever the flow is, not taking anything too seriously, he loves you so much for that. Continuing his previous task he puts his hands on your knees and strokes up your thighs, his eyes not leaving yours. The booty shorts you’re wearing leave your skin bare to receive his wet kisses, each one lingering longer than the last.

His hands slink around your hips and under your ass to pull you to the edge of the couch, “If this is how lap dances go in your world you are never allowed in a strip club ever again.” You say anticipating his next move. What you are expecting though doesn’t happen. 

Rather, he moves up to hover his whole body over you, body waving as he does and it makes you giggle. When he rolls his hips his cock brushes against your abdomen, and the feeling of the material covering him tickles you. The over dramatic ‘sexy’ face he is trying to pull reminds you of when Hozier used the sexy Squidward filter which only adds to the merriment. He’s no Magic Mike, more like a Mediocre Matthew, but he’s yours and he’s trying, that’s all that matters.

Jake stops his attempt at seducing you when Mariah Carey's ‘All I Want for Christmas’ blares from the speakers, instead opting to sing the words to you, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need,” His fingers tickle your sides to make you squeal in delight and titter, his mouth grazing your neck, smile is evident as you feel it across your skin.

“I just want you for me own, more than you could ever know.” He scatters a short burst of smooches on the base of your neck whenever there are no lyrics to be sung. The song was true though, all he wanted for Christmas was you, everything else was just a bonus because he didn’t need anything else as long as you were with him.

As the song picks up, Jake shoots up with a shit-eating grin and pulls you up with him, “Dance with me!” The bells on his slippers are going crazy as he kicks his feet and does what you think would be considered a shit version of the jive but you’re not too sure. That’s the thing about your man, one minute he can be sultry and sexy, then in a flash, he’s being silly and eccentric. It keeps a dynamic in your relationship that you love, making it easy to fall more and more in love with him every day. 

When you start to join in with his terrible dancing the room is filled with laughter, exactly how Christmas is supposed to sound. Taking his hands in yours, you twirl him around, both of you stumbling as he trips over thin air. Instinctively, his hands grab ahold of your waist to steady you.

Your eyes are shut due to how much you’re laughing so you don’t see how fondly Jake is looking at you, like you’re his whole universe. Jake has wanted nothing more than to have a relationship that felt like you were everything to each other; lovers, best friends, soulmates. And he found that in you, you’re his one true love.

“I love you.” It comes out of nowhere, so much so you tilt your head with a ‘huh?’, “I love you, Y/N.” It’s not the first time he’s said it, Jake’s probably proclaimed his love for you a million times over, but this one feels like its meaning runs a little deeper than the others.

Pouting you squish his cheeks with your palms and kiss his protruded lips, “I love you too, Jake.” The moment is so sweet it could make anyone sick and if you saw anyone else act the way you two did you would probably want to throw them in a fireplace for being so cringy but by your logic, since it’s you and Jake it’s fine.

It dawns on you how this sentimental moment is being had with his current attire, “I need you out of this thong, I’m sorry.” A giggle leaves your lips when you look down to see distressed Rudolph once again.

“He still wants that pet, y’know. He’s earned it now.” Jake jumps slightly to bounce his cock and make the reindeer nod.

“For the love of God if you stop doing that I’ll do anything you want.” You plead, hands covering your face. 

Kicking his slippers off hurriedly and ridding himself of the hopefully never to be seen again underwear, he lifts you up and carries you to the bedroom, kissing your nose delicately. As he walks you see the thong lying sadly on the floor.

You’re never going to look at Rudolph the same again. 

[strawberrystepmom]

captain obi x f!reader. canon au, meet cute, reader has visible cleavage. wc 1.5k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune as always ☄️

The golden bell at the top of the door jingles and you do your best to look over your shoulder, craning your neck, to welcome in whoever has stepped foot into your quaint cafe.

“Welcome!”

You shout over the chime and the rustle of the plastic bag in one of your hands, pastry cream being pushed through the bag to smooth out any bubbles by the other. The door only officially opened about 30 minutes ago but your time management left something to be desired this morning so you are now rushing to finish the last of your crème buns before the few pre-lunch patrons you cherish enter the doors.

Footsteps ring across the tiled floor but you don’t see who they belong to, turning back to piping cream between sliced strawberries tucked into a bread roll that is still warm from being baked. Squinting to measure accurate distance between each dollop, when you should just be wearing your glasses that rest atop your head, piping as carefully as possible. You hum, in doubt of your own abilities, and back away with the tip of your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth and lean forward to finish the job when you’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps in front of you.

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice states and you jump a bit where you stand, surprised by the baritone and the way it fills your small cafe. The acoustics in here are better than you thought and you turn your head with a smile still holding your crème bun and piping bag.

“Hey, thanks for coming in. How can I help you?”

Your eyes rove over the man for a moment and you realize that you recognize him, if only for the brief second you saw him earlier this week when an Infernal caught a structure down the block on fire. It was a rough fight and you rushed to the window to watch, anxiously filling various rolls to make sandwiches to bring to the Fire Force company tirelessly working to keep the neighborhood safe.

“You’re Captain…” you hiss, embarrassed you can’t seem to recall his name off the top of your head given that you only heard it in passing during the commotion the attack caused but he half smiles, finishing for you with a nod of his head.

For a moment, Akitaru wonders if he took things too far by coming in here to see you face to face without his gear. You caught his attention by effortlessly comforting not only the victims of the attack but his company and the onlookers and you kept it when he got a good look at you, retreating sunlight giving you a glow he’d almost call ethereal if he didn’t know better.

As lovely as you are kind, he’d be a fool not to at least stop by to say thank you for bringing both of these things to a world that can be dark and heavy. So here he stands, hands shoved in his pockets just after 7:30 am before he returns to the station. He can’t go back now so he makes the best of it, opening his mouth to speak.

“Obi. Captain Obi.” His face shifts for a moment, brows pinching and lip curling. “You don’t have to call me that if you don’t want to, though. I’m not here on business.”

You laugh at his natural ease and shake your head, reaching blindly behind you to place the piping bag down on the prep counter.

“Here for pleasure then?”

His eyes widen at your flirtation and you look away from him, embarrassed and believing that you may have been too forward. It’s in your nature to flutter your eyelashes a little too sweetly when faced with a big and strong and handsome man so the bun in your other hand is extended to him with a smile, a peace offering of sorts for being too much you can cloak as a thanks for saving your neighborhood and therefore your cafe.

“As a little thanks for saving the day. It’s fresh, I just filled it.”

Akitaru smiles and you feel uncharacteristically stricken by it, dipping your chin to hide your own smile when he reaches out to take the bun and your fingertips touch. His hands are cooler than you’d expect them to be, at least in the brief period any part of them touched you, and you withdraw your hand as quickly as you can without arousing suspicion that it’s because of the gravity of such a simple touch.

You’ve embarrassed yourself enough for one morning already and you clasp your hands in front of you, standing as primly as possible in front of the commanding man. Obi’s presence is as broad as his shoulders, not that you’ve been looking at them, and it makes you want to behave yourself or at least impress him the slightest bit.

“Hey, no thanks needed.” He puts a hand up, a means to show he expects nothing from you except your ear long enough to properly speak. “I wanted to come and thank you actually for the great food and for helping keep everyone calm afterward.”

Relief washes over you when he speaks and you play off his kind words with a humble shrug. The gesture is attractive enough to Obi that he actually feels a little nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He is far from a coward but this kind of thing isn’t usually his forte, preferring to keep his eye on his goals and his squad and things a little more important than romance.

At least until you showed up in a powdered sugar fury, remnants dusting your nose and clothes, ready to help completely unprotected and unarmed.

“It’s easy to help where you know how,” you remark and he hums. It’s not the answer he expected you to give but he likes it even more, refreshed by your honesty despite your gentle looking exterior yet he shifts uncomfortably again. Maybe he overstepped his own boundaries and not yours by coming here, this discomfort something he isn’t used to.

You notice his shift in posture and smile to try and soothe any anxiety he may be feeling, nodding toward the dessert for breakfast in his hand.

“Feel free to eat it, I’ll be offended if you don’t.”

He chuckles and you giggle along, hands still clasped in front of you. You look every bit the same angel today you did a few days back and he doesn’t hide the fact he’s taking a good look at you while biting into your hard work, tart strawberries and fluffy cream dancing across his palate.

A hum of approval makes you dance in place, shaking your shoulders and grinning. Obi fights the urge to burst into laughter, chewing and swallowing as quickly as he can despite how much he’s enjoying the experience. He’d rather talk to you than eat anyway.

“Delicious.”

You beam at his compliment and he holds up the bun, examining it as if the secret to why it tastes so good can be found between the indentations of his teeth in the soft bread. He squints and makes a show of inspecting, more so that he can enjoy how it feels to have you looking so closely at his every move.

“I have to ask though,” he starts and you look up, eyes meeting his and refusing to move. “If I take another bite will you do that again?”

You laugh and shake your shoulders.

“What? That?”

He laughs and nods.

“Yeah. That.”

A little embarrassed by your own excitement, you opt to stand in place to watch him take the second bite. He hums again and you wish the sound wouldn’t make you feel like you’re floating, riding a high or something you aren’t sure you can even name. An infatuation? A crush? Who knows, it’s weird.

“Thank you, seriously. It has been a few days since I’ve had something that tastes this good.”

You beam again, cheeks aching from the force of your smile, and decide to walk closer toward your side of the counter to close the space between the two of you. Clearly he stopped by for a reason but you decide not to pry, enjoying the thrill of something new and different too much to let him slip out of coming back to visit. The station is only a few blocks away from here anyway, you may as well give yourself an excuse to see him again.

“I’m so grateful you saved this block and my shop, Captain Obi, you can come by every morning and I’ll have one of those ready for you.”

He looks at the bun and then looks at you, clicking his tongue.

“I couldn’t.”

You raise your brows and lean forward onto your elbows, looking up at him. He considers himself a gentleman but he looks down, catches a glimpse of your cleavage, and looks away.

“I insist. It’s the least I can do for a hero.”

How could he possibly say no to such a sweet offer?

[shunin-gumis]

Designs of Happiness - Track A14

L4mps Main Story Translation

Title: Imposed Blessings

Characters: Nagi

Summary: Nagi is working alone at his shop after abruptly leaving the Friday Film viewing. The protagonist chases after him, and he finally explains his unique predisposition.

Thank you aca @463ce6, jes @arcanecrayonn myun @/myuntachis and Niri for helping me with proofing!

Also a gentle request from me, please do listen to the chapter in-game alongside the translation if you don't do so already, the voice acting is very precious 🥺🥺

Location: Flower Laundry

Sonia: Nagi-shan, here ish all the flowers you can use! 

Nagi: …Oh no. This isn’t nearly enough.

Sonia: You came back all of a sudden from HAMA House, sho you have no right to complain! 

Nagi: Sorry. Please get whatever’s left in the storehouse too.

Sonia: Aye aye, Shir! Geez, I’ll bring back as much as I can!

*bell jingles*

Customer A: ‘Scuse me! Sorry for popping in last minute—

Nagi: Oh, that’s alright. What can I do for you?

Customer A: Just a quick question– Does the laundromat here accept IzuPay? 

Nagi: IzuPay… Ah, we don’t use that here yet. There were plans to add it as an option but it was delayed… Sorry about that.

Customer B: Darn… out of luck, huh. I guess it makes sense, not everyone would bother getting the ward’s special payment method.

Nagi: Other digital payment options are still available, and we accept cash too.

Customer A: Huh? Can’t believe there’s a laundromat that still takes cash… 

Customer A: I thought they’d all be gone with the ‘Valley of the Sky’ or somethin’. POTHARU! and all that. 

Customer B: Hey, don’t be rude… He’s standing right there, and that scene is long since over. Um, sorry about that. 

Nagi: …It’s fine. 

Nagi: (Right. I guess the film viewing would be over by now, too.)

Nagi: (...Why did I have to think about that now?)

Nagi: (I wouldn’t have lasted much longer in that situation… Just thinking about it gives me chills. I’m sorry I didn’t stick with Toi till the end, but I had no choice, I had to leave for everyone’s sake—)

Sonia: I’ve prepared the flowers for you!

Nagi: Thanks. —Let’s go, we need to leave right now.

??: Um, excuse me… 

Nagi: Oh, yes, welcome—

Momiji: Good evening… again.

Nagi: …… 

Momiji: Do you mind if we talk for a bit, Nagi-kun?

Momiji: …… 

Momiji: (I can’t believe he ran out of HAMA House during the viewing… I guess he must’ve hated it that much, huh…)

Momiji: (Maybe I was being too naive in thinking that he’d open up with enough time…) 

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: (I can’t believe she noticed I’d left… I might have messed this up worse than I’d thought. She must be annoyed with me…)

Nagi: (No, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, maybe she’s just here to check up on me. I clearly suck at communicating with others, so that might have gotten her worried…)

Nagi: (Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I troubled the Chief… I’m worth less than a plant louse that preys on flowers. I mean, even plant lice are useful to ants, yet I’m…)

Nagi: (No one would want a Ward Mayor that’s worth less than a louse.)

Nagi: (I wanted to take responsibility and see this job through to the end, but…)

Momiji: …You see, Yodaka-san just informed me earlier. 

Nagi: Yes?

Momiji: That you haven’t slept at HAMA House even once, Nagi-kun.

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: (So he knew. He’s too sharp to slip past, huh.)

Momiji: …… 

Momiji: (Ah… He’s tensed up.)

Momiji: (I wonder if I should’ve approached it more delicately…)

Momiji: (I’d readily help him if he’d just let me know what he’s having trouble with, or if there’s something he’d like changed… But what if he says that he never wanted to be a Ward Mayor in the first place? Hrm… What should I say…)

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: (She looks really troubled… I feel guilty that she’s worried over someone like me.)

Nagi: (I should just explain everything, even if it makes me uneasy. I know it’s the right thing to do, but… If I really just blurt everything out, she’d probably think I’m some kind of weirdo.)

Nagi: (But if I keep quiet any longer, she might feel hurt instead. What should I do…)

Nagi: (...The cyclamen at the storefront just caught my eye… In flower language, they mean “resignation” and “words of parting”...)

Nagi: (And next to it are the anemone, meaning “abandonment,” and the calendula, “sorrow of parting.”)

Nagi: (I see… I get it now.)

Momiji: Um… 

Nagi: (I should… brace myself.) 

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: …If I don’t hand out flowers, it rebounds. 

Momiji: Huh?

Nagi: The other side of the Yajirobe*. 

Momiji: Uh?

Nagi: This is just a theory of mine.

Momiji: O-Okay… 

Nagi: I believe that, just like with human emotions, if a person experiences great fortune or misfortune, then they will eventually have to return to a neutral state.

Momiji: Uh huh...?

Nagi: In my case, the rebound is especially strong. If I experience any fortune, then misfortune is sure to follow soon after. 

Nagi: That’s what happened when I got caught in that bee trap before; I’m sure it’s because I’d won a set of tissue boxes the day before, at a raffle in the shopping district.

Nagi: This is my theory on the phenomenon I call “The Yajirobe of Fortune and Misfortune.”

Momiji: I-I see... It’s like when people say bad luck doesn’t last forever, or how something good is bound to follow after something bad… Is it like that?

Nagi: …Are you a genius? I feel embarrassed for making up a whole theory now. I’ll just use your explanation next time.

Momiji: No, no, I understood what you were trying to say with your Yajirobe theory.

Nagi: …To avoid having the Yajirobe go crazy, I need to avoid any situation that might make me happy, intentionally or not. 

Nagi: Even a single slice of cake is too much for me. That sort of kindness… is too much happiness for me to bear. 

Momiji: (So he’s saying the cake made him so happy that he had to avoid accepting it, and even ran out of the dorm just so he could avoid inviting misfortune…)

Nagi: But sometimes, no matter how careful I am, the happiness just piles up anyways.

Nagi: That’s when I bring these out.

Momiji: Flowers…?

Nagi: My special ability– Flower Power: Imposed Blessings*.

Momiji: …Um?

Nagi: By imbuing flowers with the energy from my accumulated happiness, I can impose the excess onto others. There's no limit to how many flowers can be handed out. The only debuff I have to suffer is embarrassment.

Momiji: (Oh…)

Momiji: (Is that why he was handing out flowers in the middle of the street the first time I met him…?)

Momiji: (Honestly, I’m not sure how much of this I’m supposed to believe… But at the very least, I can tell Nagi-kun is being serious about this.)

Momiji: I…see. So if you give away your flowers—

Nagi: The misfortune’s rebound gets weaker. 

Momiji: –The misfortune’s rebound gets weaker…… Right. 

Nagi: (As expected, she looks really confused.)

Momiji: Um, let’s see if I got this right– You felt that joining HAMA Tours, and living at HAMA House would—

Nagi: Accumulate a debt of happiness.

Momiji: Which is why you left.

Nagi: Yes. Something like–

Nagi: Something like working together, and living alongside others, just like a ‘family’... There’s no way to predict the amount of happiness I’d receive from just being there.

Momiji: (The amount of happiness…)

Nagi: Being surrounded by happiness like that… Holding hands, and shouting POTHARU together with everyone��

Nagi: It wouldn’t surprise me if an earthquake hit right after, and HAMA House ended up as a pile of rubble…! 

Momiji: …… 

Nagi: (She looks stunned. I guess that’s expected.)

Nagi: (It was just impossible for someone like me, who’s always avoided other people, to suddenly work with others and live alongside them.)

Nagi: (She probably thinks I’m a weirdo. It’s not something you can wrap your head around. It’s a natural reaction.)

Nagi: (I’ll just get myself fired right here and now, so I can return to my old lifestyle. A life with no big waves, just the mundane everyday.)

Momiji: I understand your situation now.

Nagi: …… 

Momiji: Can I have all your flowers, then? 

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: —Huh?

Momiji: You just have to reduce that, um, debt of happiness, by giving away your flowers, right?

Momiji: But it’s probably difficult for you to find people to give flowers to on a daily basis, huh?

Nagi: …Is that… where this conversation is supposed to go?

Momiji: I think so?

Momiji: Then um, maybe your costs increase because you have to give out more flowers?

Nagi: No, that’s not really a problem. I can get a good discount if I buy it in bulk, so… 

Momiji: I see. Then, it’s just a problem of who you can give your flowers to. Accosting strangers to give them flowers is probably taxing for you, and confusing for the other person too.

Momiji: But, since I know what’s going on, I can take as many flowers as you want to give away.

Nagi: I… I guess that makes sense. 

Nagi: Wouldn’t it be a bother to you…?

Momiji: Of course not. You can never have too many flowers! I mean, flowers give a feeling of a fresh beginning, you know? They’re always nice to have.

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: Here.

Momiji: Oh! A flower! Thank you very much. You popped that out like some kinda magician!

Nagi: …Flowers have always been a part of my life, before I’d even realized it. That’s why, it’s always there, right beside me, where I can reach for it whenever I want.

Momiji: Still, what a large flower! What’s it called?

Nagi: Peony.

Momiji: Aw, it’s so pretty! And it smells so good too!

Nagi: —......

Nagi: Next, this one.

Momiji: It has such a unique shape… What’s its name? 

Nagi: Serruria.

Momiji: It’s so peculiar and cute! I wonder what I should decorate with it… 

Nagi: Here.

Momiji: This is a crazy amount! It’s starting to look like a huge bouquet at this point!

Nagi: Here.

Momiji: Oh dear, the colors are clashing…!

Nagi: Here.

Momiji: I can’t see in front of me anymore…! *giggles* But—

Momiji: Thank you, Nagi-kun!

Nagi: I should be the one saying that.

Nagi: Thank you for taking on my happiness, Chief. 

Notes:

Yajirobe is a term used for Japanese balancing toys. The mechanism involves balancing the main body at a fulcrum and making sure it doesn’t tilt too far in either direction before it’s balanced again, swinging back like a pendulum.

The name of Nagi’s ‘special ability’ literally translates to “imposing happiness/good fortune onto others through giving away flowers” which is super long hence why it got changed. He’s the type to make up silly names anyways.

Flower Language:

Peony Bashfulness, Shyness

Serruria Yearning, Beautiful heart

[raainy-daze]

Can you do headcanons of how the rottmnt(and the 2012 turtles if you really wanna) turtles would react to their gender neutral s/o getting mutated by the ozzsquitos into a raven/crow mutate

(Remember you don't gotta do it if you don't wanna)

Thank you and good night 😘

turtles react to s/o mutated into a corvid

rottmnt turtles (non poly) x gn!mutant!reader

summary: so as it turns out, oozesquitoes kind of suck. their stings hurt a lot more than you’d think, not to mention you’d suddenly sprouted feathers. maybe you should find the turtles.

word count: 544

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i have searched more random corvid facts over the last however long it took me to write this than i ever have in my life and i lowkey forgot english at several points. hope you like this!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Raph . . .

“okay, okay, this is fine, (y/n)’s a mutant - OH MY GOD (Y/N)’S A MUTANT”

he’s not as much worried about you being a mutant as he is how you react to being a mutant

eventually, however, the dust’ll settle and you’ll get more used to your new form

after everyone adjusts, raph finds that he really admires your feathers

they’re just so pretty and smooth??

if you let him, sometimes he’ll just pet your feathers really gently

he thinks you’re really pretty / handsome / whatever term you prefer in general

he always did, of course

it’s just that the crow form really fits somehow?

after you get mutated, he seems to make extra sure you don’t get caught up in anything else

he has three little brothers he needs to worry about, he does not need more stress

long story short he’s overprotective

•°. *࿐

Leo . . .

most humans don’t want to be mutants.

leo is very aware of this.

so when you come into the lair covered in feathers going “hey so y’all are never going to guess what happened”

that was. something.

as long as you don’t mind, he doesn’t either

if you do, though, he will absolutely (attempt) to punch draxum the next time they cross paths

he gets you shiny things

it doesn’t matter if the shiny instinct actually transferred to you, he’ll just see a particularly shiny button and go “ha (y/n)”

oh and you better be braced for the dumbest bird jokes you’ve ever heard

or, worse yet, bird based pick up lines

probably sends you the average crow lifespan off google captioned “</3 you will be missed”

•°. *࿐

Donnie . . .

donnie’s google search history got really bizarre really quickly

“my partner is a mutant”

“help my partner got mutated”

“what to do when a radioactive mosquito turns your partner into a bird”

now knows several corvid facts and will tell you all of them! (threat)

“hey (y/n), did you know that crows have funerals?”

for some reason, he can’t for the life of him figure out whether you’re technically a crow or a raven, and it drives him nuts

this will not stop him from nitpicking anyone who calls you one or the other

if you do want to go back to being human someday, he’ll be researching a potential remedy in his free time

you’re the only one allowed near his experiments when they’re in progress

this has always been true but now he has the excuse “corvids are some of the smartest animals on earth”

•°. *࿐

Mikey . . .

it takes mikey a little bit to process that you’re actually a mutant

just because it never occurred to him anyone could get mutated

he never considered the possibility until it actually happened

he kind of just stood there for about ten seconds. blank faced. no thoughts.

similar to leo, he gives you shiny things

but no no no

not just shiny things

he makes you a shiny BRACELET

it clinks together a lot, and probably has a couple jingle bells on there, so it’s incredibly impractical

but it’s made with love

if you ever feel down about missing your human life, he does his damn best to cheer you up

he will bring you your favorite pizza and give you hugs until you feel better

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Fairest Midnight - 3. The Same Red

Summary: Having lived for over a year, you really should’ve been more prepared for a vampire attacking you. But then, nothing could have really prepared you for an old friend appearing and saving you. Perhaps there was more to this situation than you had initially realized….

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire, Blood

Word Count: 1381

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

The morning that followed Halloween started rather abruptly, with my phone ringing. It was Epel’s mother, the woman who ran the shop right across the road, where I often helped out when I had the time.

“Y/n! I’m so sorry to call this early, but we’ve been waiting on a delivery since yesterday evening, and it still hasn’t come. We just got a call that there was a wreck involving a delivery truck not far from here this morning, and… Well, I would send Epel, but what with these murders of late and people going missing…..” 

She trailed off, the hesitancy in her voice clear, and I let out a sigh before responding with the question that I didn’t entirely want to ask, “Where’s the accident at?”

“Oh, Y/n! You’re such a dear!” With new vitality to her tone, she proceeded to give me directions, numerous apologies for the trouble, statements of how she owed me, a slew of “thank you’s,” and at least three promises of free apple juice when I next came by the shop.

But I honestly would have been worried if that hadn’t been the case. That was just the way Mrs. Felmier was, and her nature was no doubt the reason that Epel was so polite despite his rough streak.

And I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to send Epel. Her fears were well-founded. There had been a recent uptick in the number of murders and missing persons. 

I didn’t know the reason for the increase in crime. But I suspected that was the same reason Vil had scolded me quite so much last night. Which did imply that vampires were involved. But it was day, so there was little to be concerned about with this incident.

I was relieved, though, when I reached the road Mrs. Felmier had directed me to and saw the familiar delivery truck was not in a smoking heap. In fact, it didn’t even look like it had been involved in an accident. It looked more like it had broken down.

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and trudged over, hunching my shoulders against the cold wind.

Frowning, I noted that the hood was raised and the driver’s door was open, but that the driver in question was nowhere to be found. 

I turned a full circle, looking around in confusion, until a slight motion, visible through the windows of the building closest to where the truck was parked, caught my eye. I stared through the windows, recognizing the jacket as that of the one that was worn by the group that did deliveries for the shop, before making up my mind.

I didn’t know why he’d gone inside unless it had been to escape the wind or get better reception on his phone, but at the very least I could ask him if he knew how long he’d be stuck here.

The door to the darkened building swung open with a pleasant jingle, despite the fact that the store appeared to be largely abandoned and cast off in the shadows of the street. 

I stepped in, glancing around to find exactly where the driver was as I began speaking, “Excuse m-” 

I froze, my eyes widening as the delivery truck driver fell to the ground from where he had appeared to be standing in front of the window. 

The body dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, totally lifeless. A woman wiped her mouth, leaving an ugly red smear across her face as she looked my way from over the body. My breath caught as I realized that the same red that was on her face also decorated the man’s neck.

I didn’t bother screaming when she smiled,  and her beauty was clear even as her fangs flashing slightly in the shadows that I now realized were probably the only thing keeping her alive. 

A small, logical part of me acknowledged that screaming would have just dragged some other hapless person into this mess for her to kill, and I even went so far as to silently question how a vampire had gotten herself stranded out during daytime hours.

The more frenzied part of me that followed my instincts had me turning to run as I felt adrenaline shoot through me at high speeds, kicking me into action despite my shock at what I’d found.

But this wasn’t my first time encountering a vampire. If I could just get out and into the sunlight, I would be fine, and then I could figure out some way to keep anyone else from going in there. 

The vampire released some sort of horribly cry behind me before taking off, slamming the door that I’d just tried to exit through shut with a loud bang as I fumbled backwards, my legs working overtime as panic fully seized me. Making my motions sloppy even though I desperately needed to be at my very best if I wanted to survive.

I’d barely even made it two inches before she’d reached where I’d stood, hissing at me like an insane person as she made to grab my shoulder. I pitched myself to the side and hit the ground hard.

I barely even heard her outraged shriek over the sound of breaking glass that filled the air. I rolled to look up at what I’d expected to be my last sight before death, only to find a familiar form slam into the woman with a power I hadn’t realized my friend possessed.

Rook grappled with the woman, her fingers tearing through his coat as if the fabric meant nothing to her. 

He grunted slightly as her hands clawed their way down his arms in a bruising manner, but he persisted in shoving her backwards as he struggled against her inhuman grip and fought to shove a pointy piece of wood downwards and into her chest.

I scrambled backwards, my widened eyes never leaving the scene before me as I dug my way back up to a standing position. 

The vampire shrieked, straining to either bite Rook or free herself, but was apparently incapable of either.

Rook, on the other hand, wore an expression of singular determination as he ignored her crushing grip and the way she snapped at him. Instead, focusing on killing her.

 It wasn’t the behavior of someone inexperienced, nor did he seem surprised at all by the situation at hand.

But then, I suppose I couldn’t entirely talk. While I’d been surprised to see a vampire during daylight hours, seeing one wasn’t actually odd considering my history. Though this was the first time I’d been attacked in quite some time…. 

Apparently, having been under Vil’s protection had inadvertently led to my becoming unprepared for such situations, even despite my past.

I found myself running forward, reaching around my friend to grasp the wooden stake and add my strength to Rook’s. 

I gritted my teeth, doing my best to ignore the shrieks of the woman that somehow drew no attention to the darkened building that now housed the three of us.

It felt like hours had passed in the span of mere seconds, but with a final shove, the wooden stake plunged forward and directly into the woman’s chest and I looked away. Blocking the sight with Rook’s back even though I could clearly hear the sickening squelch.

My throat was tight as I stumbled away from both Rook and the vampire.

I’d seen a lot and done a lot, but helping kill someone, even if that person was a vampire, was easily enough to have my hands trembling and my throat constricting.

The vampire gaped down at the wood that stuck out of her chest before looking directly up at the two of us and turning to ash right before our very eyes. The only thing she left behind was a signet ring that sparkled dully in her dusty remains.

Rook fell against a wall, his chest heaving slightly as his green eyes turned to look my way, and the reality of everything that had just occurred began to sink in.

I’d been attacked by a vampire during the day, and Rook, my longtime friend who had introduced me to my nightly vampire visitor, had just saved my life.

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[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

hi! I just saw your requests are open and I love your writing and was wondering if you can do something with either ghost or gaz where reader is going to school for their masters in communications while working with the 141 and asks them to read their thesis but instead ghost/gaz makes them take a break/go to bed or something? I've been reworking my thesis from this last semester and I'm losing my mind lol....keep up the amazing writing and thank you so much love!

Here To Serve

Hello love! Thanks for coming my way with this ask because i just needed an excuse to write for Gaz. :D Be prepared to be fall in love with this man, i did. I tried to keep it simple, i hope you'll like it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Summary: Gaz finds you glued to you computer, tired an worn out and he takes the matter in his hands.

Uh-oh. It slips out of Kyle's mouth when he stops in front of his flat. He hears the last notes of Rihanna's Umbrella song before some classical takes over, even louder. He can't hear his own keys jingle opening the door, he can hear every instrument from the blasting music, ears already ringing. He can't prepare himself for the sight hat he's about to see.

You are just a small figure on the sofa, completely buried in papers, books and sharpies. And he can't help but chuckle at how lost you look, a manic expression on your troubled face, furiously typing on the keyboard. He's sure if you see him standing there, a smile on his face while you are on the edge of going crazy, you'll bite his head of for being so insensitive. He would watch you longer if the damn music wouldn't rip his brain out.

The room is a mess, and he finds the speaker under another pile of scratched out paper. He just lowers the volume, your head snaps up immediately at the loss of the stimulating background noise.

You look honestly horrifying.

"Oh no. You are home early." You smile, sheepish, almost embarrassed. Your eyes are glossy, makeup smudged over your cheek, messy hair peeking out of his grey hoodie that you are wearing.

You sudden surprise to see him sooner than you thought is quick to dissolve, you start rambling when Gaz sends you that scolding gaze. "Okay, so i had an idea. But that turned out worse than the previous one. So i had to rewrite half of it. But then i realized i may or ma no the original one better, so i..."

"Love.." Gaz puts down the Mexican food he got on his way home, finding his way to you over books and random stuff he wouldn't think about using while preparing for a thesis. Crouching next to you, a soft look easing the tension in your shoulders. "We talked about this."

"But i done it. Seriously." You turn your laptop towards him, to show a folder that was there weeks ago, perfect and ready. "I just need you to read it and tell me what's wrong with it."

Gaz shakes his head with a faint smile. "Oh no, no more of that nonsense. Give it to me."

With that, the computer is out of your reach, his skillful hands stealing it from your iron grip you had on it for hours now. You just now feel your sweaty palms, and an aching back and neck. "No, Kyle, please. I gotta double check if it's okay now."

"You will not do such thing tonight, and if it's up to me, ever." He take the laptop to the other end of the room, saving the folder beforeshutting it down. You want to protest more, but honestly your body is like stone, rooted on the same spot where you sat down in the early afternoon.

He's wearing casual clothes, one of your favorite jacket, that dark brown leather one, his skin is glowing from the wetness of the rain, cologne leaving a scent trail behind. You missed him so much.

You sigh, defeated, you know he won't let you touch anything that is related to your studies.

He walks back to you, your tired eyes searching for comfort in his gaze that he's more than happy to offer with a quick peck on your lips when gets back to you. He brushes the hair out of your face, soft fingertips caressing your skin. He doesn't linger too long, turning to the bag he placed on table, probably finding the only free space on it.

"Hey, where are you going?" You pout, unhappy about his absence in your personal space. He has that calming effect on you, and the loss of it makes your brain tick, circling back to your thesis.

"Uh-uh, do not think about it! I brought food, just gon' grab soda from the fridge and we can dug in, copy?" You nod, starting to arrange the books on the table, pushing everything in a big unstable pile in the middle.

He returns quickly, flashing a wide smile, eyes sparkling with love. You watch him fish out the food from the takeaway bag, the smell of Mexican food hitting your nose. He places mystery food bags in front of, making you wonder what deliciousness is inside them. "There you go, love."

You dive in together, eating in silence, a soft piano and violin duo making some background noise, occasionally letting out some huffs and satisfied hums.

You both watch the other in secret, laughing like teenagers when catching a glimpse of the other staring. Times like this you remember how young you both are, despite the lifes you live. On the field, his youthfulness presents itself as strength in body and mind, in quick reflexes and sharp ideas. At home, he is just a guy, feeding his significant other, making sure they are well rested and cared for. He's an idiot in love.

You inhaled you food while he eats comfortably, no rush in it. So you just memorize this moment, him eating in complete piece, enjoying the flavors, shutting his eyes for a seconds longer, maybe the taste is better that way. You are in awe of how full of life he is, and you would be the happiest person on this earth to keep watching him.

He opens his eyes, the last bite gone too. "Wha?" He's bushing, his accent popping off with the question.

"Nothing." You hold up both your hands, or rather the arms of the hoodie that swallowed your limbs.

Breath caught in his throat every time he sees you in his clothes. Yeah, you wore it ten minutes ago too, when he arrived home, but as your face beams like the rays of sunshine, a stupid smile plastered on your perfect lips, your body hiding under his own clothing, he feels like he's in heaven. His scent hugging your skin, the thought that you are so cozy in his clothes is just intoxicating. Makes his heart skip a beat.

"Come 'ere." That voice, raspy like in the mornings, when hes turned on, or when his emotions strike him at once. He pulls you close to his side, arm hugging you close, securing your body next to his. You snake your limbs over his body, leg hooked in his, arm grabbing his shirt for support.

When you settle, he sighs into your hair, planting small kisses on the crown of your head.

"Thanks for the dinner." You smile, turning our face upwards to meet with his gaze. "And for the distraction."

"Anytime, love. Here to serve." His cheeky smile makes you giggle, oh how madly in love you are with him.

"Hmmm... Well in that case, where the hell is the dessert soldier?" You ask, not able to hide your smile.

"Your dessert is right here, darling." He point at himself, utterly proud of his answer.

You laugh into his mouth, closing that already small distance between your lips, sharing a longing kiss. A kiss you yearn all day.

You break the kiss, trying to be as serious as you can. "But you brought dessert, right?"

He laughs, head thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah, i brought dessert."

He kisses you with fiery eyes, tenderly, lovingly, the softest way a man is capable of. That dessert might have to wait a little more.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hi! I saw you were looking for requests!

Maybe 12 and 17 with Aaron Hotchner? Happy end though, please 🥺 We can't hurt this man more than necessary..

Thanks so much!

I LOVE THE AARON REQUESTS YES! I'm assuming you meant these quotes from my theme night and not the prompt list in my masterpost (I can't remember if you sent this in during the theme night or not) so I just went with it :D

"You're missing the party, ya know." Aaron looks up from his phone, the previous tight line that his lips were pulled into relaxes into a lazy smile, back relaxing as he leans into his rolling chair.

"I'm not one for parties, you know that." He answers simply and I sigh, looking out at the Bullpen as JJ pulls Reid into her side, 'Jingle Bells' playing louder than all of the songs that came before it.

I step into his office, shutting the door behind me as a wave of anxiety sweeps over me at the thought of mentioning what's been bugging me for the all day.

"Did you need something?"

You.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something, uh, non-work related." Sitting down in the chair across from his desk, I fold my hands in my lap as he leans towards me, giving me a simple nod of acknowledgement, silently urging me to continue. "I overheard the team teasing you about me this morning." He clears his throat, eyes widening briefly before letting out a strained sigh.

It was probably innocent. The team realized that Hotch and I must've gone home together after we returned home from a case in Arizona because Aaron showed up in the same suit this morning that he wore last night, something he would never do. Until me and our hidden relationship that's been going on for a little over six months behind the rest of our friends backs.

"Look, I know that we agreed that we'd talk about it and we will-"

"How could you let them say that about me?" His lips part in quiet shock at my sudden interjection, shoulders drooping and a disappointed look passes through his expression. "I mean, really Aaron? I'm a teachers pet? A kiss up?" I can see the gears turning behind his eyes, trying to figure out a way to dissolve the tension in the room before it goes too far but there's fury bubbling in my veins that doesn't appear to be going away any time soon.

"Rossi knew months ago that I wanted to ask you out. They knew you would say yes and they were just pointing out your apparent eagerness." I scoff, eyes slitting and he huffs, realizing how poorly his words came out.

"Oh because I'm so desperate to be with you?" I spit, rising to my feet and placing my hands flat on his desk to look down at him. "I'm a fucking catch, Aaron." My voice wavers and bottom lip wobbles as he takes a sharp intake of a breath, rising to his feet before quickly making his way around his desk to stand beside me.

"You are, I know." His fingers reach out, trailing down my arm until he can rest his hand on mine on the desk. "I don't do this. I don't do relationships let alone workplace relationships." I scoff, giving him a stern shake of my head to let him know that I wouldn't take that as an excuse this time. He can't just keep blaming it on his awkwardness and lack of experience.

"You're hurting me, Aaron." I can see the heartbreak riddled all over his face, his shoulders drooping and hand clamming up as he removes it off of mine, the lack of contact breaking my own heart. "You could just tell them it's mutual, tell them that I'm not just pining over you-"

"I never said you were pining over me, that's ridiculous." His voice sounds more like a coo, like he's comforting a small child- his son- and it makes me inch away from him, not up to being accidentally patronized by my boyfriend and his caregiver attitude.

Though I usually find it endearing, it's not appreciated in disagreements.

"You make me feel like I'm not desirable- like this is one sided." I explain and I feel like a weight is lifted from me the minute the words leave my lips but I see it only add to Aaron's anxiety as he reaches out to me once more. "Do you know how it makes me feel to realize that you'd rather the team think that I'm so obsessed with you rather than them to just know that we're two adults in a normal relationship?"

"No, I don't know how it makes me feel so tell me." He pleads, still maintaining his cool composure but based on the way his hand grips mine once more, I can tell there's a slight desperation about him.

"Horrible, Hotch- it makes me feel horrible."

"I don't want you to feel horrible." His hands lift to rest on my shoulders, urging me to come closer to him and I allow him to hold me closer to him, his arms sliding down to rest on my waist. "It's not one sided. I'm just terrible at representing my side." I crack a smile, knowing that his words are true and, as hard as I am on him, I know he's still getting used to being in a relationship again.

"It's just so much more simple than you make it out to be." He looks at me expectantly as if he wants me to spell it out for him, and I do, but not before laughing, tension finally breaking. "If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people- our friends- would you do it?" He hesitates but the shy smile that slips across his lips doesn't hide his answer as he mutters it under his breath.

"Yes."

"Why?" My hands reach up to rest on his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly behind his ribs. Though he's so put together, so chivalrous and timid, there's times like these where his body gives his nerves and bashfulness away.

"Because I want to be with you, contrary to popular belief." I almost cave into him when his strong hand reaches up to cup my cheek, his smile calming any insecurities that could be running through my mind.

"I needed to hear it." I whisper breathlessly.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it clear." His voice is heavy, regrets lingering on the tip of his tongue but he doesn't continue, even when it's obvious that there's more to it, that he has insecurities of his own. "I'll work on it." He promises, leaning towards me to press a kiss to my forehead before tugging me to his chest.

"Thank you." I mutter, hands sliding around his back to grip at his shirt, breathing in the smell of his cologne that puts an immediately smile on my face.

"Thank you for being patient with me." He mutters against my hairline before his chest rumbles in a rare chuckle. "You are a bit of a kiss up though-"

"Aaron, oh my god."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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[merryfortune]

you are alive, you are flesh and blood

Prompt: Any fandom: any ship - Confession

Title: you are alive, you are flesh and blood

Ship: Inspector/Shiro 

Fandom: Cat Fantasy 

Word Count: 2,275

Rating: T 

Warning: None 

Tags: Female Inspector, Love Confessions, Seemingly Unrequited Pining, Kissing, Interspecies Relationships, Mentioned Inspector/Mandy

   The Inspector sighed tiredly as she sat down at the bench as though it were a tavern’s bar. She sprawled over it, right where Shiro had just mopped up with a cloth and so earned a stare of unceasing neutrality from the AI cat-girl. She bore a hole into the Inspector’s head as the Inspector tried to have a catnap but no dice.

   “Is everything alright, Inspector?”

   Her voice chimed through the Inspector’s thoughts. They bubbled and clouded, clogging up her mind and wearing her down with all the weariness of the world. 

   “Sleepy…” the Inspector mumbled.

   “You are more than welcome to go upstairs to rest.” Shiro suggested. “It would be more hygienic than using our cafe as a bench.”

   “Oh, you.” the Inspector pouted.

   No rest for the wicked, or so she reasoned. She pulled herself up and by the bootstraps, too. She smacked her face and puckered her lips.

   “I still have paperwork to do and there’s still so much to clean in here, it’s been a wild shift-”

   The door to the restrooms to the right of the cafe’s front bench opened and Mandy came through. Surprised to see that all the tables had been cleared and the chairs upturned to be placed atop them.

   “Goodness, I didn’t realise how late it is!” Mandy exclaimed as she came closer.

   “I didn’t even realise you were still here, Mandy.” the Inspector returned her surprise in equal measure.

   Shiro, however, didn’t. “I knew you were here.” She spoke matter of factly like she always did. “But we are closed. Civilians are not allowed inside after hours, please return home safely.”

   “A privilege now that we can be out and about after dark, not that mine and my sister’s place is that far.” Mandy giggled. She bounced on her heels, made gaga eyes at the Inspector by batting her lashes and flashing her pearly white teeth. “All thanks to a certain someone.” She put emphasis on someone, staring down just who that person was: the Inspector.

   Her obvious infatuation always sent a chill down the Inspector’s spine. Still, the Inspector was not so unkind that she would give Mandy the cold shoulder even if she very much did not feel the same way. She got up and left the bar stool.

   “Your welcome, Mandy, my duty and honour,” the Inspector told her, “here, allow me to escort you to the door at the very least so I can see you get home safely. Just in case.”

   “Aw, thank you, Inspector.” Mandy purred.

   The Inspector nodded.

   She did exactly as she told Mandy that she would: she guided the teenage student a few steps to the door and allowed it to ring. Meow, meow, meowww. Mandy laughed at the jingle and relished how the Inspector watched her from the doorframe. The florist, though well and truly closed at this hour, was only a few steps down the road from the cafe and the Inspector sent her off with a warm, watchful gaze.

   And that was that.

   The Inspector closed the door behind her and the bell jingled again. She sighed. Mandy was so bubbly and high-energy, it gave the Inspector a pep when she was around but felt so drained with her gone. Her shoulders slumped forward and she took that as an excuse to stand around and do a quick stretch.

   “Why do you never reciprocate Mandy’s intentions? They are as obvious to me as I’m sure they are to you.” Shiro asked.

   The Inspector’s eyebrow twinged, “Why do you care about my love life so much?”

   “Ahem, no reason.” Shiro blatantly lied.

   It was kind of adorable so the Inspector would never hold it against her. She sauntered back to the counter, placed her elbow over the mahogany flat of it and sized Shiro up.

   “I simply do not feel the same way as her. It would be inappropriate, an officer of the law taking advantage of a sweet, underage Felian. The entire world would have a fit.” the Inspector informed Shiro.

   Shiro giggled mechanically, “Mandy is eighteen according to her records.” 

   Ah. Classic Shiro. Always knowing things that the Inspector didn’t. The Inspector blushed as she now found herself in the faux pas of having guessed Mandy’s age wrong by around two years at least. She supposed that wouldn’t be as bad… Still. Her point remained: she did not feel the same way.

   “Whatever.” the Inspector clicked her tongue and her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Shiro. “Besides, there’s someone else I like.”

   “Truly?” Shiro inquired.

   The Inspector nodded. She could feel the atmosphere of the cafe change. The slow, languid air chilled by the night turned electric. They were all alone in here. The fact it was after hours added a new layer of intrigue beneath their artfully dim chandelier lights. 

   If the Inspector strained her ears, she could hear the whirr of Shiro’s motors increase ever so slightly. They were usually imperceptible so if there was reason to hear them… That was unusual and so, she took heart in that. She licked her lips and continued her thinking out loud.

   “Yes, there’s someone I like.” the Inspector confessed and she stole a glance at Shiro.

   Her eyes were wide. Her attention was rapt. Her tail quivered. 

   “That someone is smart and loyal, she is- she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m glad we met, that she was not just made but born. She’s serious but that seriousness guiles such sparkling wit and cleverness. I-I like her a lot.” the Inspector rambled, her heart raced.

   Shiro’s hands tightened, her fingers curled against her palms, “And is she human or is she Felian?” she asked, bravely asked because a tiny cue in her voice betrayed that she was afraid to know the answer and yet.

   She asked.

   The Inspector, in turn, found her own courage. She looked directly at Shiro and basked at her humble beauty. The sheer white of her hair, the shine to her silicon skin, the way she was always so cleanly presentable, never changing, never out of sorts whatsoever, a solid rock of programming and aesthetics. 

   “Neither.” the Inspector replied. Earnestly, honestly.

   Shiro winced, “How can she be neither?” 

   “You tell me, Shiro. How can you be neither?” the Inspector asked and she got to her feet. Her hands splayed over the bench. “How can you try and turn me away when I… when I…”

   When the Inspector woke up this morning, after exploring the depths of her dreams, the strangeness of her memories and the locations they created in surrealness and absurdity, she didn’t think this was how her day would go. Though, a few months into her position as Inspector really ought to clue her in by now that things never did go smoothly here at their Cafe.

   So, the Inspector let go of all preconceived notion of right and wrong, of up and down, of even species, when she had fallen in love with… Shiro.

   “When I love you.” the Inspector finally finished her impassioned speech with a small smile. Her heart was ready to break, though, as Shiro was a robot. It was clear that despite her cleverness and curiosity, surely she would never feel the same way as a human (or a Felia for that matter).

   A conclusion justified by how Shiro reacted.

   She froze. Not a complete blue screen, however, but her eyes widened as disbelief permeated her expression. Her parameters raced to find some understanding as they organised the Inspector’s speech, turned into binary and tried to decode it in rapid fire pace which would put a supercomputer to shame and yet. Shiro was silent. She was frozen.

   “I think I have since the moment I met you. The real you.” the Inspector added. She had another flashback of that dream of oblivion, of Shiro’s outstretched hand painted with blood as she tried to protect her.

   “Inspector…” Shiro gasped. Better late than never.

   “I-If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine.” the Inspector awkwardly shrugged. “You’ve made it obvious with your attempts at matchmaking. Even if they were misguided.”

   “Don’t you want to be with someone alive?” Shiro asked. “Someone of flesh and blood?”

   Her voice broke as she asked these questions of existence.

   It broke the Inspector’s heart, too.

   “Oh, Shiro,” she murmured, “you are alive. You live, you laugh, you emote through the wide range of emotions that there are from joy to sadness to frustration and, clearly, envy. As far as I'm concerned, you are flesh and blood, Shiro.”

   “Inspector…” Shiro murmured.

   She still seemed stunned, disbelief glued to her but shakily, she brought out her hand from in front of her apron. The Inspector leaned in and, like a cat, nuzzled against Shiro’s palm. She smacked her lips contentedly and closed her eyes.

   “Aah, nice and warm.” the Inspector assured her and slowly opened her eyes. “I like you, Shiro. You are my first partner and the only one I want in a non-professional manner, shall we say.”

   Shiro squeezed the Inspector’s cheek. The Inspector cringed - hey, that hurt - but beared with it as Shiro’s hand trembled. Her lips quivered only to curl into the tiniest, most thankful smile.

   “I never thought you would feel the same, Inspector.” Shiro confessed. “I’ve seen many Inspectors, seen them rise and fall, I had seen them give up and become disillusioned. I wish to never see the same for you, I want you to go higher and higher, I want to never leave your side. You are, I think, the first partner I have truly resonated with. Your kindness is unparalleled, the way you strive, constantly, for the path less travelled as it is often the one which is the most mediated or peaceful… It means a lot. Catto City is in good hands with you and as am I.”

   “Thank you, Shiro.” the Inspector replied.

   Shiro lifted the Inspector’s head by her chin. Her delicate, robotic hands caged the Inspector’s chin. They both leaned over the cafe’s counter and the Inspector felt her blood warm inside of her, it droned and raged and she could only hope that Shiro could feel it via her sensors.

   Shiro initiated their kiss. 

   The Inspector could have swooned as Shiro engulfed all her senses. She smiled as she allowed all of herself to be surrendered to Shiro. She closed her eyes, slowed her breathing and savoured the first kiss between herself and her most precious partner. 

   Shiro’s lips were soft and warm. Her eyes did not close, however, the Inspector could feel her trademarked, no-nonsense stare from behind her eyelids. Shiro’s technique was subtle. She didn’t know what she was doing but the calculations were clearly being run as there was micro-adjustment after micro-adjustment. She wanted it to be good. She wanted to be good at kissing. The insinuation was as powerful and obvious as the rubbery smell and taste that emanated off her but the Inspector wouldn’t have had it any other way as she kissed back. Intensely, passionately, humanly.

   With only the grace and splendour that Shiro was capable of, she requited all of the Inspector’s sentiments and more with this kiss. Slow and chaste, she overcame all her mid-confession jitters to wordlessly profess a love so profound it went beyond her programming and the Inspector received all of it until Shiro cut her off.

   She was running all the calculations, monitoring all the parameters after all. What was or wasn’t good for a human, leaving the Inspector “wanting more” or something like that as Shiro may have heard the idiom before.

   The Inspector opened her eyes and they were dewy with the emotions running high. Her lips tingled with the memory of Shiro’s own as they departed from one another.

   “I hope that was satisfactory, partner.” Shiro bade her.

   “Yes, yes it was, Shiro.” the Inspector assured her.

   They moved some more. Awkwardly, disjointedly. Shiro was akin to a ball-joint doll once more with an unknowable, unreadable expression. Now defiled by the entropy of humanity: a blush which was not in her cheeks before, now bloomed a rose on either side of her face. Her ears flicked contentedly and the Inspector took all these observations to her throbbing heart.

   “I hope we are partners for a long time, Shiro.” the Inspector told her, her voice a whisper.

   “I-I feel the same way.” Shiro shakily replied.

   The Inspector smiled and they both, mutually, receded from each other. Clunky and mechanical, a touch shy, even, like schoolchildren with their very first crush. The Inspector glanced, infatuated, at Shiro, bouncing in her boots, shifting her weight from one foot to the other only to yawn.

   “Get some rest, Inspector.” Shiro told her. “I will be here in the morning, I promise.”

   “Thank you, Shiro.” the Inspector replied.

   Of course, what tomorrow morning would look like was anyone’s guess. It was against protocol for Inspectors to fraternise with their Combatants, least of all the AI robot ones but in her short tenure, the Inspector of the Baker Squad could probably get some leeway. Falling in love with Shiro would probably be the least of all the infractions she had earned in her pursuit of truth and justice.

   Though the Inspector did hope, perhaps naively, for a bright, sunshiny morning after a night of being well-rested. She hoped for the birds to sing and for the trees that lined the street to sway pleasantly and for yet more kisses from her beloved partner and that together, they would go on to stop armageddon.

[blackbat05]

Pleasant Mishaps

Carter Hall x Reader

Plot: The leader of the JSA meets a civilian under the most ordinary circumstances.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Congrats to @tom-whore-dleston🥰 on 1K! Thanks for also re-igniting my writing cells because I’ve been experiencing a major block. I’m not kidding when I say I almost wrote this in one shot. Using the prompt - “using the washing machines next to each other at the laundromat” This is a new character so feedback is always appreciated!

“Come on…” Carter grits, pressing the wash button in frustration to no avail.

“For god’s sake!” He banged his foot against the poor contraption. What perfect timing on a sweltering hot day.

Looks like he’ll have to find another laundromat.

He trudged along the path filled with takeout restaurants, almost crying in relief when he saw a small laundromat neatly tucked away at the corner.

Carter bursts into the air-conditioned laundromat. The sudden jingling of the bell shocking the sole customer in the shop who flinched slightly.

The cool air bought Carter back to his senses as he gave an apologetic smile to the woman who had just loaded a pile of laundry into the machine. It was time for him to get to work too.

“This machine works the best.” The woman pipes up. Getting Carter’s attention, she explains.

“They may look the same, but don’t let it fool you. I’m a regular here.” She suddenly comes to a halt before turning away quickly with a hint of blush on her cheeks.

Muttering his thanks, Carter places his belongings beside hers and starts to remove the dirty laundry from the bags. His eyes almost pops out as the first thing that greets him is Al’s blue domino mask with traces of blood.

He’s going to kill Al when he gets back.

***

Carter wakes up with a jolt to find that he’s still in front of the machine that was working hard to clean the dirt from the clothes.

“Excuse me…”

Carter blinks his eyes to adjust to the rays that were shining into the glass windows of the laundromat. The same woman stands above his figure, holding two cups of coffee.

She gives an airy laugh seeing Carter’s dazed figure scrambling to make himself presentable. This time, he can’t help but to feel embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, handing a cup to him. “I thought you could use a bit of caffeine. Laundry work isn’t easy.”

He chuckles, accepting the cup gratefully. Carter moves aside, allowing her to sit.

With an exchange of names, the two start to talk, time slowly forgotten. She tells him that she’s an English teacher at a public school. She loves to read on her off days at cute little cafes. She’s a sucker for Japanese food. But what struck a chord with him the most was -

“The feeling of flying.” She takes a sip of her coffee, eyes sparkling at the memory itself. I only did paragliding once on a trip to Thailand but I felt like I could take on the world.”

Carter’s voice is momentarily stuck in his throat. As much as he’s growing to like the elegant woman in front of him, he can’t afford to take the risk. It wasn’t just about him this time. So, he tells her that he’s contracted for private work.

A beep can be heard, breaking the conversation. Carter masks the regret behind his face. For the first time, he felt that he could hold a proper conversation without being fawned over. He’ll probably never see her again the moment she steps out of this laundromat, but he just can’t.

She stands up, as if to buy some time. Placing her fresh clothes into a new bag, she slowly slings it over her shoulder. Facing Carter, she gives a wave to which he reluctantly returns. And she finally leaves him alone to his devices.

As Carter returns to his coffee cup, he downs the last of the brown liquid, about to throw it into the bin when he sees a scribble on the white surface, followed by several numbers.

Call me!

P.S. hope you don’t have as much trouble catching bad guys.

Yeah, Carter was down bad.

***

A week flies by and Carter’s usual laundromat was up and running. But he finds himself standing in front of the same laundromat where he met the enigmatic woman.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes the door, allowing the gust of cold air to hit him in the face. He scans the laundromat, but there was no familiar face amongst the residents who were busy with their own pile of laundry.

He sees that the spot that he shared with her empty and makes a beeline for it. Two cups sit beside him.

Carter waits, and he tries to distract his mind with the second batch of laundry without any superhero gear in it this time. The cup of coffee is still hot, there’s still a chance.

Five minutes are left on the dryer and he’s starting to loose hope. He feels a little foolish even.

Just what was he thinking?

Shoving the clothes into his bag with a little more force than usual, he stands up with a huff and almost collides face first into her.

She doesn’t seem fazed as she sips the cup of coffee that he had bought earlier.

“Hope I’m not too late.” She grins, a slight stain on the top of her lip from the sip of coffee.

He reaches out, using his thumb to wipe it off. The tables have turned, and she quickly looks at her shoes, as if there was something interesting.

“You? Never.” As he throws the last of his clothes in, Carter notices that she is empty handed this time.

“I know a pretty sweet Japanese place down the road. How about dinner?”

She playfully pauses for a moment, as if contemplating the offer. Her facade breaks immediately, returning Carter a radiant smile.

“I would love that.”

[simmer-rhi]

Jingle Bell Goth

Part 9

Soundtrack: Carol of the Bells by Peter J. Wilhousky, John Williams

"Bella," Cornelia called across the table again, "This fish is overdone."

"Well, Cornelia, since I was working on preparing two individual grand meals due to a last minute menu change, unfortunately I wasn't able to give either dish the care and attention I would usually. The turkey is dry too, if that makes you feel any better."

Bella's voice had gotten louder as she spoke. Anyone who knew Bella well would recognise the signs, it was time to end the conversation, or risk her wrath.

"I'm sorry to tell you, you're turkey is actually dry most years!" Cornelia laughed. "We should probably all just have the fish next year, and then you can give it your undivided attention." Cornelia went back to her meal, pleased to have solved this conundrum on Bella's behalf.

"You are not invited to spend Winterfest Day with us next year Cornelia, so there won't be any fish to worry about, at least not on my table. Next year you'll be paying your chef quadruple time to cook your Winterfest meal, instead of walking all over your door-mat of a daughter in law!"

The whole room went quiet. Siobhan made an excuse to leave the room and make a phonecall. Suddenly she was really missing her family.

After a moment, Michael cleared his throat. "I'm disappointed in you, Cassandra. You're being very rude towards my guest here. She's doing her best to be friendly, the least you can do is answer her questions politely."

And with that, Bella exploded. "Don't you dare speak to my daughter like that. Your "girlfriend" was a nasty school bully who made Cassandra's life hell before she finally graduated. LAST YEAR."

"Oh my watcher," Michael groaned. It was all falling into place. Siobhan couldn't be much older than 18... he was horrified. "I'm so sorry Cass, everyone... I think it would be best if I took Siobhan home."

*******************************

As Bella cleared the dinner table, Cornelia approached her. "Bella, could we talk, please."

"Sure." Bella was calm now, after getting frustrations off her chest... And maybe a little bit embarrassed by her outburst? Well, at least her next therapy session should be interesting.

"I apologise if I have offended you, Bella. I know my constructive criticism isn't always well received... It's just my perfectionist and snob traits talking. The dinner was lovely."

Bella sighed. "Cornelia, I know you believe that your son could have done better than me, but we've been married for nearly twenty years now, our daughter is nearly an adult herself, and you still have not accepted me as part of your family, or treated me with an ounce of respect, even once. This is my home, and you have no right to speak to me like that in it."

Cornelia was shocked. Her own mother-in-law, Gunther's mother, had been a dragon - was she just like her?

"Thank you, Bella, that was very honest of you. I have never meant to make you feel that way. I have the utmost respect for you, to be truthful. You are a very capable woman, your children adore you, as does my son. You juggle your career, a family, your charity work. I'm envious, in fact. I always wanted to be a career woman myself..."

Bella was touched. The two women spoke more, and negotiated a truce. Next year, Cornelia is bringing her own fish.

Start - Previous

[flowerhotpot]

Acheron walks down the hustling bustling Golden Hour, occassionally looking at the windows of the shop lined in the side of the street, admiring the luxurious and vibrant stuffs being displayed upfront. She had long lost her desire to own such opulence but they never ceased the passerby's admiration, including her, so let it be.

She takes a stair that leads her into a plaza, 'Oti Mall' is written in the banners hanged on the ceilings. More stores and stands are lining as far as her eyes can see and she decides to walk some more before resting, maybe she can buy a bottle of SoulGlad, its jingle has been playing since she arrived in the Dreamscape and it is bound for her to be curious about it, though she can no longer taste anything.

She observes the stores again, seeing what they sell, and their employees working in them. A particular store that sells makeup has piqued her interest as she lets herself in and immediately observes the vibrant colors of lipsticks, face powders, mascara, and many more beauty products arranged neatly on the bright white display racks. She tries to put on a concealer, looking for the one matches her skin color the most.

The shop isn't too busy for now so she can take her sweet time for looking for the right shade. The only customer in the store right now is a beautiful silver-haired young lady, her hair is wavy and colored with dark cyan on the tips, adorned by a hair accessory resembling a pair of fyrefly's wings. She stands before the lipstick display across Acheron, showing her back as she seems to be gleefully looking for what she desires there.

Acheron continues her search before her chest clenches a bit as she realizes her colors had turned so muted and cold so much she can't seem to find the right shade. The silver-haired lady has moved onto the powder display just beside her and she can see her face clearly now. Pretty wide eyes, long and curly eyelashes, and sweet lips curled into smile as she seems to be in a good mood, it actually lifts Acheron's mood a bit by just seeing it.

She decides to give up looking for the right shade of concealer before the young lady suddenly calls for her, "Excuse me-I'm sorry but can I ask something?" Acheron stops her step and nods, welcoming her question. "It is just that-! I have a friend that is...a refined lady like you! And I am confused on what to buy for her gift from Penacony...may I ask what is a lady like her and you...seems to like to receive?" she asks. Acheron smiles before answering with, "Well that seems to be a question that you, as her friend could answer better, isn't it?" "Ah, you're right! But you know-seems our taste can be different and I am trying to see from her point of view," "What does she like?" "She likes what all such refined women like...such as coats, makeups, beauty care products..." "I saw a tailor parlor down the street before, I think a hand-crafted Penaconian clothing will be a good choice as a gift." the young lady seems to think for a while before nodding. "Thank you for your answer and I'm so sorry to disturb you," the girl smiles to her. "It's okay, I was about to leave anyway," "Oh! You didn't find what you are looking from this shop?" this lady is quite observant, Acheron thinks to herself before answering, "Unfortunately no, but it's not a problem," "As a thank you for your answer before...may I try to help you?" "Sure, but it's just...I can't seem to find the right shade for my skin," "Ah! Then let's see...how about this one?" she points at the coldest shade they have and even though it's quite close, her skintone is literally more muted than the said shade. "I've tried it," Acheron points at one of the shades lined on her wrist. "Oh my..." "It's okay, I don't really need it anyway," she lets out a really light giggle. "I'm so sorry I can't be a help! But I saw another makeup store in the upper floor before so you might want to check them!" she exclaims. "Thank you, very well then I will check it, and I hope you find a right gift for your friend too," Acheron walks out from the store as she hears the girl also steps out from the store too after her.