#good thing i only have plans to do that uh three days this week

[cahootings]

i think i am more tired than i ever have been in my entire life i have gotten nothing done so far i am just sitting at my desk staring blankly

[likeumeanit9497]

please baby | c. s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?

warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+

notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.

Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.

Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.

Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.

He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.

Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?

Chris: Not rlly sure

Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?

Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe

Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.

Y/n: uh..is something wrong?

Chris: No why

Y/n: ur being kinda mean???

Chris: No I’m not

Y/n: ok

Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn

Y/n: i just said ok

Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting

Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.

Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.

Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.

Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.

I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.

But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.

Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.

I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.

As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.

The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.

“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.

Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.

Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.

“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.

Oh, my Chris.

His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.

“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”

I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.

Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.

After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.

Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”

I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”

At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.

“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.

He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.

And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?

I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.

“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”

That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.

“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.

“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”

He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.

We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.

“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.

He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.

I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.

“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.

With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.

His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.

I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.

“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.

My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.

It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.

“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.

He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.

“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.

“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.

Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”

He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”

I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[an-gothamite-aka-zannalial]

I fell in love with the idea that Damian was doing graffiti with his friends but none of his family members knew it was him, that was a really funny idea

Jason: I have to admit that my graffiti with Roy in Crime Alley wasn't bad

Damian: really. I thought you would be angry because, well, you were made half naked by that person

Jason: Actually I think it's kinda hot

Damian: *Immediately planning to make them kiss later

Steph: I quite like the graffiti that J.B made for me

Damian: I have to admit, Brown, you don't deserve anything that good

Steph: You're just jealous because you didn't get yours from him, maybe he doesn't like you, kid

Damian: I don't need something like that, it just insults my name

Steph: Well if one day he makes you and you smile you owe me 10 dollars

Damian: tt

Dick: That guy captured how hot I was really well

Dick: *starts talking about all the things that should be included

Damian: *Regret following his friend's idea

Cass: Love the graffiti

Damian: That's pretty good but still not enough for you Cain

Cass: still love it

Damian: *Regretting doesn't make it better

Cass: Are you sad, he might want to make you

Damian: I don't need that tt

Cass: I'll ask him

Damian: *Regret again because appeared in front of Cass

Tim: I'm glad someone wants to appreciate my existence since you tried to kill me

Damian: You shouldn't be happy Drake, just because one person makes you doesn't mean you're famous

Tim: look who jealous now, just because he don't get one

Damian: tt fuck you

Harper: that person make better graffiti in one night than Cullen in one week about me

Cullen: Don't pretend to forget that you also tried to make one but failed, sis. This means he is much more talented than you

Harper: Nuh uh

Cullen: Don't use what I teach against me, I dare you

Damian: *Just listen and watch this match

Duke: I guess I'll have to look this guy up and thank him, that graffiti is amazing

Damian: You don't need to do that Thomas, he made it mean he doesn't care if you thank him or not

Duke: I still want to do them, I think there are only a few that he hasn't made yet

Damian: yeah tt

Kate: I'm so hot on that graffiti, and so are you Luke

Luke: Yes, I need to admit it. But aren't there only three left?

Damian: I don't think so because that guy made some for the Rouge's to

Kate: Isn't it true I haven't seen him, I guess he'd make all Gotham freak then

Luke: probably

Selina: So O and I have already gotten one, doesn't that mean the only ones left are the two of you

Bruce: No. I got one too I checked, And it says fuck you

Selina: he doesn't like you then, that means now there's only one left that doesn't have one

Bruce: yeah

Damian: *Makes a super duper big about himself in the middle of the city

[auroralwriting]

hii!! this is so random but i just read ur spencer reid x genius! reader fic and i was wondering if u could like expand on it?? or like maybe the team finding out that they went on a date and everyone is like oh gosh finally?? thank u and i love ur writing :P

wedding bells

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

part two to the gun, can be read as a standalone

spencer and you were enemies, now, you’re just into each other. what happens when you show up to jj's wedding as each other's dates?

word count: 1.6k

warnings: the most insane amount of tooth rotting fluff (you're welcome)

thank you for this request! i decided to expand even more and connect it back to the actual episode i wrote about, 7x24 :)

It had been about two weeks since you’d gotten out of the hospital from your last case; the bank robbery. You managed to get out with a couple of stitches and bruises. You were lucky to be alive.

The one good thing that came from the whole ordeal was the fact that you and Spencer, who was your previous academic-agent enemy, had turned into somewhat of your lover.

It started with trivia night at O’Keefe’s. The two of you decided to just pair rather than join a large team, and you kicked ass. You allowed Spencer to handle more of the academic side of trivia while you took pop culture. Quite literally, you were the only team with points.

That date went so well, that you ended up going out to dinner at the new Chinese place by Spencer’s apartment. That one went great too, and a third came along, a simple date that included Spencer taking you to an art museum.

You actually got to know Spencer, and he got to know you. Sure, you’d been team mates for years, but with suck a strong rivalry, you never got to know the man. You were both eerily alike, and things were going great. There had been no cases, Strauss gave your team a break after JJ’s boyfriend had almost died, along with you.

Spencer and you were at his place watching Doctor Who when you got a phone call. You picked it up, “Hey, Rossi.” The tv was paused and Spencer was looking at you expectantly. “Mhm.. mh- Oh my god! Oh, Rossi. That’s such a good idea. Yes, I’ll be there. I’m, uh, actually with Spencer, so I’ll pass on the message.” Spencer raised an eyebrow at you as you hung up. "Okay, don't freak out, but JJ and Will are engaged."

"What!" Spencer exclaimed with a bright smile. "Oh my god!"

"And Rossi and Will are planning for the wedding to be this Friday," You continued. "JJ doesn't know yet, so we have to keep it a secret."

"Speaking of secrets," Spencer coyly began, "Does Rossi know about, well, us?"

You chuckled, "I didn't tell him, but he knows we've been together more. Significantly more,"

"I've been thinking," Spencer said. "What if we don't keep this a secret anymore."

The only reason it was a secret in the first place was because the team would freak out if they knew you were going out. "I don't think now's the best time to tell them. We don't want to steal JJ's thunder." you frowned.

"No, no!" Spencer quickly shook his head. He grabbed both your hands, rubbing them with his thumbs. "Do you want to be my date to their wedding?"

Your heart raced at his words, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yeah, Spence. I'd love to be your date." You smiled brightly.

The wedding was only three days away, and you were quick to go out with Penelope to buy a dress. You wanted something elegant that wouldn't take away from JJ, so you decided on a flowey, burgundy-maroon dress. It was formal, but nothing too glamorous. The whole time, Penelope kept rambling about how since she and Kevin were no more, the two of you could be girl-dates. You casually agreed, not wanting to give up Spencer and your cover yet.

You'd asked Spencer if he wanted to see your outfit on Thursday, but he wanted it to be a surprise. So, with Pen, you both did each other's hair, makeup, and got ready. You arrived together at the Rossi mansion to make everything less conspicuous.

"Oh my god!" Penelope whisper yelled. "Kevin has a date--a date!" She grabbed you and dragged you to Emily and Morgan in a panic. "He brought a date, and I didn't bring a boy date, oh my god I look like an idiot!"

"Pen, you don't look like an idiot." You rubbed her arm softly. "He's the real idiot for moving on so damn fast."

Emily nodded, "And you look so gorgeous, I bet he can't help but think about you. Play it cool."

Penelope took a large sip of her drink. "I'm- I'm gonna go, go somewhere, uh, somewhere he's not."

"Hi, Penelope!" Beth, Hotch's new girlfriend, said cheerfully as she walked up.

"Hey, hi," Penelope quickly walked off.

Beth gave a soft laugh, "Hello everybody."

You smiled and pulled her into a hug, "Ex problems, don't mind her. Hi Beth, and hi Hotch. You both look great."

"Says you! You look absolutely stunning! That is so your color." Beth smiled as she took your hand to spin you around lightly.

The three of you said hello to Jack as well. As the group began to disperse, you quickly spotted Rossi. You made your way over to him, a smile on his face. Rossi was like a father to you. Growing up under his help and guidance, he was more than just a mentor. "Oh, honey. Look at you, you look so grown up."

"Dave, I've been grown up for a lot of years now." You laughed as he kissed your cheek. "Have you seen Spencer by chance?"

"Not yet," Rossi replied. He raised an eyebrow at you, studying your face. "You two are together, aren't you?"

A look of panic crossed your features. "Shh!" You quickly hushed, looking around to see if anyone noticed. When they didn't you turned back to him. "We've been going out on dates, hanging out. That sort of thing. We aren't.. boyfriend-girlfriend."

"I'm happy for you two," Rossi smiled. "You two make a good pair, especially now that you aren't planning each other's murders."

"Who was murdered?"

You turned around to see Spencer standing behind you. His eyes went wide when he saw you. The way you turned, bright eyed and graceful, it made his heart leap in his chest, especially when you looked so ethereal.

Spencer breathed your name softly, looking to Rossi. You gave a small nod, letting him know that Rossi knew. He walked over, giving you a small hug to secretly press a kiss into your hair. The two of you hadn't really kissed yet, but you knew it would happen soon.

"You're an angel," Spencer softly spoke, caressing your cheek as you smiled.

"You look amazing, too." You replied.

Rossi and Spencer gave each other a quick hello before he excused himself to go reveal to JJ that this was her wedding night. It only took a few minutes and JJ ran up to you. You hugged her before she could say anything.

"You knew?" Her voice cracked, but you knew it was from joy.

"We all did," You smiled. "Hey, while you and Will get ready, let Spence watch over Henry."

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as she watched Spencer nod quickly, giving your shoulder a squeeze with the sweetest smile she'd ever seen him give someone. "Uh-"

"Don't worry about it," You shook your head. "This is your night." When you saw JJ was about to ask again, you filled her in. "Going out on dates, not dating."

She just smiled, holding up her dress. "This is it. I wanted to ask you, actually, if you wanted to be my maid of honor? Help me get ready?"

Your eyes filled with tears, "Oh, Jayge. It would be my absolute honor." You hugged her again tightly, leading her upstairs with her mom.

It didn't take long until the ceremony began. You were already at the end of the isle, watching Spencer do a magic trick with the ring with Henry. You giggled, Spencer's eyes meeting yours as he smiled back to you.

JJ was the most beautiful bride you'd ever seen. She came up to the front and you hugged her, taking her flowers from her and standing next to Spencer and Penelope. As the ceremony went on, you found yourself tearing up. Weddings always made you cry. Spencer took notice, taking your hand and pulling you against his chest as he rubbed your arm. The team was too busy watching JJ and Will to notice.

The dancing was the best part. Penelope pulled you to the dance floor before Spencer even had a chance. You happily slow danced with her, then Derek, who stole you away. From there, Hotch had a dance with you, and then Rossi. Finally, at your favorite slow song, Spencer approached.

"Dave, would you mind?" He softly asked.

"It would be my pleasure." Dave passed you off to Spencer with one hand as Spencer slowly pulled you into his arms. If you took closer notice, you'd see him go to Strauss and begin to dance.

"Hi," You whispered, one hand in his as his other rested on your waist. Your free hand was on his shoulder. The two of you began to sway to the music.

"Hi," He echoed, giving you the softest look you'd ever gotten. "I missed you. I didn't even get a chance to dance with you."

You softly giggled, "Well, now it's yours. All yours, Spence." You leaned in closer, "You're the only one I wanted to dance with."

The position changed, both of Spencer's hands were on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. This was much more intimate. "You're the only one I want, too." The double meaning made your stomach twist in the best way.

As the two of you danced, your teammates began to finally notice. "Oh my god," Derek mumbled. "Those two dumb geniuses finally got together."

"Actually, they're just going on dates," JJ corrected as she swayed with Will.

Emily smirked, "Not for long by the looks of it."

"They make such a sweet couple," Beth cooed.

Penelope gasped, "Oh my sweet baby Jesus, I took her away from him all night!"

"I'm sure he doesn't mind." Hotch smiled, actually smiled, as they all watched you lean your head on his shoulder, one of his hands coming up to the middle your back to splay out, almost protectively, holding you closer.

"I think I hear some more wedding bells in our future." Derek smiled.

[drabblesandimagines]

Swipe Right

Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

--

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

--

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

--

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

--

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

--

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

--

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

--

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.” 

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

[milkteabinniechan]

*⁠♡Happy Father's Day - Chan

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY membership // m.list

pairing: single dad! Chan x afab reader

warnings: fingering, lots of mouth sounds, angst (if you squint your eyes)

I’ll tell him about you.

Your friend had an adorable three year old. A loud, sticky, energetic three year old. But adorable nonetheless. You had a pretty regular babysitting gig going. A few people around your neighborhood had talked and heard about your services and now you were basically a seasoned vet when it came to entertaining toddlers.

But your friend was a full time stay-at-home mom now and could watch her own adorable, sticky three year old. And now you needed another spot to fill those last bit of monthly bills. So she said there was a new dad at the preschool that seemed like he was struggling. “Struggling”, she said in air quotes. You agreed and asked her to give this new dad your information. Even though you mostly worked with the mothers, money was money.

A few days passed and eventually your phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi. This is Chan. The.. uh.. Dad from Sunnyvale Preschool? I was told you could help me out with babysitting?”

He sounded nervous, or maybe he was just a shy person. Maybe he hated talking on the phone. But did his voice sound sexy? There was a deep, velvety smoothness to the way he spoke. Even between the stutters and pauses. You lingered for a moment, lost in the thought of that voice of his.

“Are you still there?” His voice pierced through your eardrum.

“Shit. Sorry, yeah. I’m here. And yes, I am available. Do you have time this week to set up a meet and greet?” your voice quickly went into customer service mode, knowing exactly what to say, memorizing the script you had made for yourself months ago.

THe two of you agreed on a time and day and said your goodbyes. You took a deep breath and tried to forget the way the sound of his voice made you feel. And you prayed all night that he didn’t look as good as he sounded.

Soon, you found yourself at the front door of Chan’s house. An expansive four bedroom home with one of those driveways that was nearly at a ninety degree angle. The door itself was large with two thin lines of stained glass running vertically down the front. A wooden WELCOME sign layed lazily against the door. A novelty sign you could buy as a last minute purchase at a hardware store. The front door clicked open and Chan stood in the doorway, child on his hip.

“Come on in,” He said warmly, arm gesturing for you to walk inside, “Did you find the place okay?”

Inside was a long staircase leading up to the bedrooms, a chandelier hanging from the top floor and swinging down gracefully into the foyer where the three of you stood. Past the stairs was a long hallway that led to the living room and an open floor plan kitchen. Windows surrounded the rooms in a sunlit blanket that made the whole house seem as if it was holding its arms out to you, embracing you.

The three of you sat down on the sectional couch in the living room. You sat on one end, while Chan and the small child sat together on the other corner. Chan introduced the small girl as Lilly. She clung to Chan tightly, her small, chubby finger gripping onto his shirt as if it were a lifeline. You smiled at Lilly and introduced yourself to her. You held eye contact with only her and asked her about some of her favorite things. You had learned over the years that children appreciated when you spoke to them like you understood them. Like everything they said was important, because to you it was. Lilly lit up and talked excitedly about some of her favorite books, jumping at the opportunity to show you. She ran to her room and hastily returned with a few small books. One was about animals, another was about a tractor that made a new friend. You exclaimed in amazement at Lilly’s amazing books. She was smart and she was quiet, but you could tell she was very well loved.

Chan watched the two of you talk about books and the different noises that animals make. It had been a long time since he had seen Lilly open up to someone so quickly. It made his heart feel full to burst, seeing the way you interacted with his daughter.

“You’re hired.” Chan said as you started to walk out of the door. His sudden decision startled you, usually it took most parents to call a few days after the meet and greet. You smiled warmly at Chan, giving him a firm handshake. The two of you quickly made a schedule of the days you would be working and before you knew it, you were in the routine with him.

Months went by with the three of you falling into this routine. You knew exactly when Chan would get home, you knew the foods that Lilly liked to eat, with her tastes changing by the week. You knew when to have dinner on the table and when to have Lilly in bed. And there was comfort there. A comfort in Chan coming home, in making a meal for him. You loved Lilly, and you couldn’t ignore this role that you were easing into.

“Happy Father’s Day!”

Chan walked in the door to find you greeting him with balloons and a cake on the dining room table. Lilly ran to Chan and squeezed his leg. You stood by the balloons and cake, waiting for his reaction. But for a moment he just stood there. Then, he picked Lilly up, propping her on his hip and walked towards you, embracing you with his free arm. He pulled you in close and whispered a soft thank you against your neck. As he pulled back from the hug, the two of you lingered there for a moment, caught heavily in the tension building thick between you. Later that evening, you walked back downstairs from putting Lilly to bed. You entered the kitchen to see Chan cleaning off the rest of the plates and silverware, blue frosting speckled on forks and spoons alike.

“I hope the cake wasn’t too much,” You spoke softly, moving towards Chan at the sink, “It was Lilly’s idea, she really wanted a cake.”

Chan chuckled softly at the thought of his daughter begging for a cake, with only blue frosting, blue being her current favorite color.

“It was perfect,” Chan stopped washing dishes and turned towards you, “you’re perfect.” Chan slowly moved his hands from the warm sink water, to your waiting waist. His fingers crept along your stomach and landed flush along your back, pulling you close to his body. You gasped at the sudden movement, but your body reacted reflexively to his touch. He took you by the hips and propped you up on the kitchen counter. He moved in towards your legs, spreading them open, making room for him. He gripped your thigh with his large hand and pulled it up and around his waist. Your eyes burned bright at his brazen actions as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep, possessive kiss. Chan forcefully glides his tongue into your mouth, letting it graze across your teeth. You let out a soft gasp as you feel his tongue slide inside, sending a shiver up your spine. You open your mouth wider for him, letting your tongues tangle together in a slow, sensual dance. You press against Chan, craving more of his touch, desperate for it.

He lets his hand fall lazily down your chest, then your stomach. He easily unclasps the button of your pants and lets his hand slip inside. The rush of warmth from his hand causes your head to fall back, your back arching at his every movement. A low growl escapes from inside Chan’s chest seeing how responsive you are to his touch. He lets his teeth graze lightly along the skin of your neck while his fingers trace hypnotic circles around the entrance of your cunt. He can feel how wet you already are for him and it causes something feral to happen in his brain. He buries his fingers deeper inside you, the sudden impact and pressure causing you to squirm and squeal pathetically in his strong arms.

A small, faint cry comes from the top of the stairs and suddenly the two of you snap back into parent mode. The sound of Lilly’s tiny voice pushing all other thoughts and feelings aside. The two of you run upstairs to find Lilly in her bed, crying from a nightmare.

Chan melts instantly at the sight of his daughter safely lying in her bed, instantly thinking the worst may have happened. He sits on the bed with her and holds her close. He consoles her and reminds her that dreams cannot hurt her, he reassures her that he is here to protect her. That he will always be here for her. But as he speaks, he looks at you too. He looks at you as if he wanted you to hear what he was saying as well, like he was speaking to you and Lilly. That you were both important to him. As if he wanted to protect you too. And love you too. You gave Chan a small nod, so he knew you understood. You loved him too. And you would protect both of them with your whole heart.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo

[ceilidho]

prompt: ex special forces ghost working as a “travel companion for hire” and reader hires him because she’s too nervous to go solo travelling

-

It’s not the first time you’ve been somewhere on your own, but it’s the first time you’ve realized that maybe solo trips aren’t for you. 

It’s in Germany, three drinks in and stumbling back to your hotel room, paranoia gripping you every time you pass a dark alleyway or take a right onto a deserted street. It’s the man walking your way on the same side of the street that has you stuffing your hand into your purse, clammy fingers gripped tight around your keys. 

On the flight home, you’re wiped. Beat. Finally untethered from a week’s worth of anxiety slowly reaching a boiling point. You’ve traveled on your own before, but it’s the first time you can remember being acutely aware of your vulnerability. Granted, before this trip, it’s not like you’d traveled all that much on your own, especially outside of the country. 

Ghost comes as a recommendation from a friend of a friend. You’d hemmed and hawed about the whole ordeal the Monday after getting home from your trip—working the front desk at an auto-body shop means that there’s no shortage of people to talk to. The guy picking up his car (fender bender, a wicked crack down the front that’s since been fixed) listens to you gripe with an absent look on his face, but you’ve learned to tune those out. People will listen to you even in spite of their indifference when there’s nothing else to do. 

“Y’know, I know a guy that does stuff like that,” he says, cutting you off halfway through another half-baked rant about airline fares these days. Your mouth puckers into something quizzical. Tell me more, it says without saying. “Ex-special forces. Left because of some medical thing, I think. Dunno. Anyway, he’s been all over the world—built like a brick shithouse, that one—and last I heard he was, uh, renting out his services.”

“Services?” 

“Like, he’d go with you, hang back while you do your thing, but basically the muscle. There to back you up if someone fucks with you.”

You’re just fresh enough off your vacation (an entirely miserable week, lest you explain the whole thing all over again) to give him your number. He promises to put you in touch with the friend of a friend who’ll put you in touch with one Simon Riley. He then gives you shit about the price on his bill and you knock ten percent off begrudgingly because the piece of paper with your number written on it is still crumpled in his palm.

No good deed goes unpunished or whatever.

“He’s not actually in the country right now,” Laswell, the friend of a friend, explains over coffee, Biscoff cookies spread out on a little tea plate between the two of you. “Or the continent.”

“Where is he?”

“For the rest of the month? Indonesia. He’s supposed to be back on the ninth. Should I let him know that you’re interested in his services?”

It’s a toss up at first. The thought of sacrificing your dignity (he would be more or less your babysitter) for adventure is tricky. With the way the dates line up—when you plan on traveling and when he gets back to the UK—you also won’t have much time to make his acquaintance before setting off. 

But there are places you want to go, sites you have scribbled down in a pocket-sized notepad folded up in the inner lining of your backpack. So you give her your permission and promise to join her and her wife for dinner sometime (repayment, and also it’s only been a few months since you moved, so you currently have a dearth of friends in your life anyway). 

The first time you see him when he stops by your workplace, you can’t help the double take. It just doesn’t seem possible. You know from Laswell and the guy at the body shop that Ghost is ex-military, but you’d been expecting some buzz-cut, slightly smarmy army reserves guy, maybe six-foot and decently muscled. What you don’t expect is the tatted beast that’s near twice your size. Only the top half of his face is exposed, the rest hidden beneath a black mask; you think briefly of asking him about it, but chicken out under his withering stare.

He doesn’t seem impressed when he meets you. “What’s your list?”

“Um…just around Europe. I haven’t thought about it too much.”

He stares down at you. “You wanna hire me just to run around the continent?”

“I haven’t thought about it!”

“Well, best give it a think fast, doll. Haven’t got all day for you to figure it out.”

You do have to think fast. He doesn’t leave until you’ve spelled out exactly where you want to go, until he’s watched you book plane tickets over your shoulder, heavy at your back while sweat beads at the nape of your neck. He’s entirely too intimidating to be looming over you like that. 

You watch him whip out his phone and fire off a couple of texts; your phone pings with an email telling you that you’ve been reimbursed for his flight and when you protest, he brushes you off by saying that he’ll invoice you for everything at the end of your trip.

Then what was promised falls into place. Free of burden, free of anxiety or restless energy, new possibilities open up to you: countries where you don’t speak the language; countries where the sites you want to see are spread out across a wide enough area that it warrants having a man packed beside you in a too-small taxi, his thigh a hot line against yours; hiking trips through national parks, where you don’t feel like you might slip down a hill and twist your ankle, stuck without water or cell service. 

You only have two weeks worth of vacation, so you use them wisely. A week traveling across Switzerland and Austria, and then a week in Cairo to see the pyramids. 

Ghost hangs back most of the time while you traipse around and do your own thing. You can feel him at your back when you approach the stands where the local vendors have set up shop, perusing silver trinkets and jewelry, only returning to your side when someone stands too close to you. 

He fists a hand in a pickpocket’s shirt when they try for your purse, giving them a shake and sending them off. 

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you mutter in his direction as you watch the young man scurry away. Not sure if you’re blushing or sunburnt. 

“You hired me to deal with this shit my way. Don’t get mouthy now.”

You think it might be the former because while you might not be the best at reapplying sunscreen, Ghost has been gentle-parenting you this whole trip. He pulls you off into corners and growls down at you while squirting a dollop of sunscreen into the palm of his hand to spread across your face. You close your eyes when his rough hands trace over your face and breathe out heavily when he spins you around, big hands engulfing your shoulders and spreading down your back.

You don’t think it could get worse. It gets worse. 

He won’t spring for his own room. You stare at him in disbelief in the lobby of the two star hotel where you’ve booked a room with a single bed. There’s a vending machine in the corner of the lobby that only sells coke (all of the other buttons are broken). One of the ceiling lights flickers on and off, an ominous buzz filling the room. Ghost doesn’t so much as blink.

“You didn’t tell me—I didn’t know that was my job,” you rebuff, anxiety a fist in your throat. You’ve already asked the front desk for another room, but they’ve been sold out for weeks, the woman at the front desk informed you with no small amount of pity. It’s the busy season; even two-star hotels get booked up in the dog days of summer. 

He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Never had to before. My job isn’t to book shit.”

“I sent you my itinerary.” 

“That’s not how I work, love. Where’s your room?” 

It’s nothing short of humiliating to have him follow you back to your shabby little hotel room. Your hands shake when you unlock the door, opening it to something no bigger than a closet. You’d purposefully gotten a smaller room than you usually would, anticipating the cost of Ghost's invoice at the end of your trip. No good deed goes unpunished. 

He ushers you into the room with a hand on your back, shutting the door behind him. You flick on the only light in the room, a bulbous thing hanging from the ceiling. No bedside lamp. 

When he settles on the end of the only twin bed in the room, the bedframe groans under his weight. Your hands are already clammy. He’s already making himself at home, unbuckling his belt with a single hand; it makes you almost dizzy to look over at him so you try desperately to avert your eyes.

“At least wait until I’m in the other room,” you hiss, rifling through your suitcase faster to get your clothes for after your shower. 

“Quit moping, love,” Ghost scolds, resting back on his elbows and toeing off his boots. “We’ll make it work. Just gonna have to get comfortable together.”

You scurry off to the bathroom with your pajamas clutched tight to your chest, paying no attention to the fact that he doesn’t sound as upset as you thought he might.

[thebearer]

baby blues |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: two blue lines change all your plans, and carmen doesn't take it well. or how you tell carmen you're pregnant.

read the entire dad!carmen berzatto masterlist here!

contains: language, pregnancy, angst, carmen's an asshole, alludes to past parent trauma, hurt/comfort.

"Shit."

The hiss of your tone bounced off the green tiles of your bathroom, an eerie echo that rang dully through your mind. A reminder that this was all too real, happening right now in front of you- to you.

After weeks of what you thought was a stomach bug- retching at almost anything, exhaustion, aches- you had come to realize it might not just be a virus when you looked at the unopened box of tampons under the sink.

You were late.

A frantic trip to Walgreens, an hour of avoidance out of pure fear, three glasses of water, and two tests later; you were here. Looking at the two mocking blue lines on both tests. You were pregnant.

You called your best friend, Alicia, unsure of who else to confide in. Scared, emotional, overwhelmed, you sobbed into the phone, hand holding your head on the edge of the bed. "Carmen is gonna lose his shit."

"Carmen is not gonna lose his shit." Alicia soothed over your heaving gasps. "He will be fine. You both will be fine. You're married. What's the issue?"

You shook your head, swiping your thumb under your eyes. "You don't... Carmen and I haven't, like, ever really talked about kids." You muttered. It was mostly true. You hadn't really, other than euphoric pillow talk ramblings where you both were just bubbly with love, spilling shared wishes under sheets.

"I thought you said you wanted kids?"

"Yeah, but not now." You sobbed into the phone. "I don't... I don't think I'm ready to be a mom. I'm not gonna be good at that. I don't-I don't know anything about kids! And-And I can barely cook, and- Alicia, I couldn't keep our cactus alive! I killed our fucking cactus, and you think I'm ready for a kid?"

Alicia laughed lightly on the other end. "Ok, true, but you won't kill your kid. You'll be much more attached to it than the cactus." She countered easily, calmly. "And you'll be a good mom, babe. I know you'll be. And Carmen knows too. You know he does. Call your OBGYN and get an appointment. Make sure this is legit and get your vitamins and let me know what you need from me."

Two days later, you were laid on the cool paper at the doctor's office, eyes wide watching her drag the wand over your tummy. Seven weeks. The ultrasound clutched in your hand had an arrow where the baby was, it was still so small. A blip, a splotch right on your plans.

You decided to tell Carmen that night. He knew something was off with you, starting to get more and more suspicious. It was only a matter of time.

"Hey, baby." You grinned as excited as you could when he came home.

"Hey," Carmen chirped, grinning back at you when you kissed him sweetly, a little longer than usual, not that he minded. "How are you doin', baby? Good day?"

"Yeah, it was." You quipped, throat tightening, desperately trying to keep your voice from cracking. "I, uh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Carmen's brows lifted, dropping his bag by the door. "What kinda surprise, huh? Somethin' under this?" He teased, hand sliding up your shorts, palming at your ass and making you squirm.

You couldn't help the fleeting thought that he wouldn't be able to do that for long. Not when a baby was in the house. Your throat burned with tears at the thought.

"No." You shook your head. "Just... Here, sit right here for me and I'll be right back." You kissed his cheek sweetly, running to the spare bedroom for the ultrasound. You wondered if this would be the baby's nursery. Or maybe upstairs in the makeshift workout room Carmen used. It felt odd planning this type of thing, thinking about this.

Your hands were sweaty, trying not to wrinkle the printed photo. It was your first after all. The first picture of many. Ones you secretly hoped would line the walls of your house. Pictures of the baby, with you and Carmen.

You hoped Carmen would be in them.

That horrid thought always made it's way back into your mind, rattling you to your core.

"Close your eyes." You tried to sing-song, playful and light like you usually would. The kind of tone that was silly, left Carmen grinning and doing what you said. Instead, it sounded tired.

Carmen still covered his eyes anyways. You took a soft breath, placing the photo in front of him. "Ok, y-you can open." You whispered.

Carmen's brow lifted, looking at you carefully before down at the table. He stilled, face unmoving, body halted, eyes zoned in on the ultrasound.

"Wh-What-What is this?" Carmen's tone was hushed, tight, like his chest felt. He was sure this wasn't what he thought it was. It couldn't be.

"I, um, you know I-I've been feeling not great." You started, wringing your hands in front of him. "And I... I haven't had my period in a while, so I went to the store and... and I got a test, and it was..." You motioned down to the ultrasound. "I'm pregnant, Carmen."

The house was still. That same eerie stillness creeping back in, looming over both of you in such a sickening way, it had your stomach twisting.

Carmen blinked, shaky hands picking up the ultrasound, refusing to look at you. "Oh."

"Oh?" You repeated. "Carmen, I-I said I'm pregnant."

"No, no, I, uh, yeah, I-I heard you." Carmen nodded, leg bouncing under the table. "I just... I thought you were on birth control."

"Carmen, what?" You snapped. "I am."

"Then-Then how the fuck-"

"-Oh, don't you fuckin' dare, Berzatto." You hissed, rolling your eyes at him, snatching the ultrasound off the table.

"I'm not fuckin' blaming you, but-but how?" Carmen could feel his heart rate rising, ears ringing and head spinning with that old, familiar feeling of a panic attack coming on.

"How?" You gawked at him. "Carmen, it's not, like, a one-hundred percent guarantee, and-and... Come on, Carmen, we've been fucking a lot lately."

"I don't..." Carmen stopped himself, his hand rubbing over his eyes. Your heart skipped, chest aching with fear when you looked at him. Carmen pushed his chair out, standing and pacing around the kitchen, hands on his hips, lips in a thin line. "I-I need to think. Fuck, I need to think, just-just..."

You tracked him, your own heart hammering loud in your ears. Carmen snatched his cigarettes, hands shaking when he turned them over in his hands slowly. You could practically hear his thoughts, when the baby is here, he can't smoke anymore.

"I need a fuckin' second, ok? I need to fuckin' think!" Carmen boomed, voice thundering off the walls, making you jump. Carmen snatched his lighter and Spirits, stomping out the front door, the slam of the door the last thing you heard before the house settled and stilled again. Your worst possible scenario played out in front of you, becoming a reality too.

You were alone.

"Cousin, can I ask you, what the fuck your fuckin' problem is?" Richie grit, sliding beside Carmen. "The fuck are you being such a jagoff about, right now?"

"I'm being a jagoff?" Carmen snapped, slamming the knife down. His eyes were wild, hair even wilder. Curls matted and sticking out like they did when Carmen was stressed, when he'd ran his hands through them too much.

"Yeah, you're bein' a fuckin' jagoff." Richie countered, voice raising over Carmen's. "You look like shit, you smell like shit, and you're treatin' everyone here like fuckin' shit. So what's the fuckin' issue?"

"Fuck you, Richie, alright? Fuck you. Get the fuck outta my fuckin' face!" Carmen roared, the vein in his neck protruding when he did, sending the few chefs still in the kitchen retreating before they were screamed at next.

"Y'know why don't you just fuckin' calm down? Makin' everyone here fuckin' miserable with your bad attitude. No wonder-" Richie stopped, eyes flicking down to Carmen. His shoulders dropped, sighing heavy at his own revelation. "What'd you do?"

"What? What did I... Fuck off, I'm not in the-"

"-Nah, Cousin. What did you do?" Richie shook his head. "Why's she not here today, huh?"

"I'm right here." Natalie muttered, turning the corner, balancing two cups and a large work bag. "I had to take Chelle to Pete's office so he can take her to dance, and traffic was..." Natalie laughed cynically, shaking her head.

Carmen felt his stomach twist, jaw tightening. That would be you two before you knew it. All over the place, late to shit because of the kid. Just like Sugar and fucking Pete. That made him Pete.

"Not you, but I'm glad to see you. How are you?" Richie muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to Sugar's cheek. "Carmen fucked up."

"I did not-"

"-You fucked up? On what, bear?" Natalie blinked, frowning lightly. "Oh, before I forget, where's my favorite sister in law? I have her-" Richie gave her a pointed look. Sugar stopped, face falling in realization. "Oh, that's... Carm, what did you do?"

"Can you two just fuck off? Fuck!" Carmen roared, kicking a pot under the table.

"Wow, anger issues much?" Sugar rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Is this what you did? Is that why she isn't here?"

"No, Natalie, you're pissin' me the fuck off-"

"Alright!" Richie clapped his hands, cutting them both off. "Family meeting. Ok? Meeting time. Right now."

"I don't have time-" Carmen started, Richie just clapping his hands on his shoulders, shoving him away from the table.

"Natalie, family meeting." Richie waved her in.

"Family meeting?" Fak turned the corner, eyes lit up hopefully.

"Not with you, you fuckin'..." Richie huffed, shaking his head. "Me, Nat, and Carm are having a meeting. Do your jobs, ok? Don't bother us, just... handle it, alright? Thank you. Every second counts and all that bullshit." Richie nodded towards the staff, shutting Carmen's office door behind him.

"Carm, you... Are you ok?" Natalie winced, looking at her younger brother.

Carmen ran his hands over his eyes, slumped in his desk chair, knees bouncing nervously. His breaths labored and ragged in his hands. Richie's eyes cut to Natalie's.

"Cousin," Richie's voice was softer this time. "What is goin' on?"

Carmen took a shaky breath in, Richie stilling at the sound of his emotions. "You... You were right. I fucked up." Carmen muttered. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad." Carmen's voice was tight, thick with tears he was trying to choke back.

Natalie stepped forward slowly. "Carmen, what did you do?" She said as calmly as she could. "Just-Just tell us, and we'll... we'll try and help you."

"Did you cheat on her?" Richie asked, brows furrowed in disgust.

"No, what? Why the... No, no, no, I-I..." Carmen leaned back in the chair, hands knotted in his hair. "She's pregnant."

Richie and Natalie paused, both sighing slightly in relief. "Oh my God, that's great!"

"Yeah, I mean, Cousin, I thought you... I'm glad you didn't, but that's great!"

"Aw, is that why she's been sick? Poor thing. I knew it! You know Pete said that, and I-" Natalie started, Carmen's sudden jerk of his body, sitting in the chair with frantic eyes stopped her.

"I don't know!" Carmen blurted, shaking his head, refusing to look at them. At their furrowed brows of concern. He couldn't face them. Tell them what he'd done.

"You don't know?" Sugar frowned in confusion. "You don't know if she's pregnant?"

"I-I..." Carmen felt his chest tightening, burning with that familiar ache. He tried to breathe in, slow and long, counting back from ten like his therapist told him, but his chest still ached. "I left."

The room filled with that same eerie silence, the one that seemed to be following him around lately. The one that crept into the room when you showed him the ultrasound, the same one that followed him into the restaurant last night.

"You left?"

"You fuckin' what?"

Natalie and Richie gawked, eyes wide and frantic, looking down at Carmen.

"Cousin... What the fuck? You don't... Holy shit." Richie muttered, shaking his head.

"Carmen, have you lost your mind?" Natalie snapped. She was angry- no, furious. "You left your wife? You left your pregnant wife?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, I just... I needed to fuckin' think!" Carmen threw his hands out. "I can't think! She just... We weren't planning it and-and then... I just needed to think!"

"Then think at home! Or-Or with the person you're having a baby with, Carmen, Jesus!" Natalie roared back.

"Cousin, you... you fucked up." Richie said solemnly, nodding in agreement. "I mean, I've done a lot of shit. A lot, ok? Just ask Tiff. But I...I never fuckin' left."

"No, she just fuckin' left you, right? Tiff couldn't take you bein' an-"

"Hey, woah, take it fuckin' easy, Cousin. Watch it. This ain't about me." Richie snarled, finger jabbing in Carmen's direction. "I didn't fuck this up, ok? You did. This is your shit. We're just tryin' to fuckin' help you, so why don't you do all that de-escelatin' bullshit and take a fuckin' breath and relax."

Carmen's teeth ground tight, eyes flickering over to Natalie. "I'm with Richie on this." She snapped. "You did fuck up. Huge."

Carmen could feel the burn, rising in his throat. Was it fear? Vomit? Tears? Regret? All of the above?

"I know, I know, fuck, I know." Carmen muttered, falling back into the chair. "I just... I know, and-and now I don't know..." Carmen could feel his heart rate, waves of guilt and realization crashing over him, leaving him feeling sick.

Carmen stood quickly, hands tangled in his hair, pacing in the small area of the office. "Holy shit, she's gonna leave me. She-She's gonna leave me, and-and... Fuck! Why do I always do this? I always fuck up! Always! Like... What the fuck? Why-Why-"

"-Carmen." Sugar said slowly, hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "Hey, breathe. Breathe. Just... Just relax, ok?"

"No, no, no, I-I can't fuckin' relax. I-I got to-" Carmen rambled, his chest squeezing, burning.

"Carm, look, just... Just do the breathing thing. Listen to Natalie." Richie nodded towards Sugar. "And we'll get it handled, alright? We can't fix this until you calm the fuck down."

"Richie," Natalie hissed, rolling her eyes in irritation. "Carmen, breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. Innnnn and Out." She mimicked for him, slow pulls of air and soft exhales.

Carmen could hear you. Hear you in his head telling him to calm down, feel your hands on his cheeks, your soft praises and coos. His heart ached but it tricked his mind enough to listen, shaky rasps of air falling in and out until he was on sitting in the chair, knee bouncing with adrenaline.

Natalie shook her head lightly, looking over at Richie, then Carmen. "You need to go talk to her."

"I know. I know, Nat, but I got a dinner rush-"

"Carmen." Natalie sneered, in that tone. The tone she used usually with her own kids. A tone of finality.

"I got it covered, Cousin, alright? I got it." Richie nodded, patting Carmen on his back. "Just... Go figure your shit out."

"Yeah." Natalie huffed, eyes narrowed at her younger brother. "You better bring that poor girl some flowers or something. Better make it up to her, Carmen, that is so gross of you."

Carmen nodded softly, grabbing his back pack, shedding his apron. "I-I'll have my phone on me-"

"-Go!" Richie and Natalie yelled in unison.

"I got it, Cousin." Richie shook his head.

"Yeah, and you have other things to worry about." Natalie snapped. "More important things, like your marriage, and your kid."

Carmen's heart skipped at that. It sounded weird, unnatural. His kid. Mind racing back to images of you with his niece and nephew. How Chelle took to you so naturally when you first met her, cradling her in your arms while Natalie scampered off for a shower. Carmen's heart swelled at the thought, how he had watched you, how good you were at it.

He knew you'd be a good mom. Had no doubt about that. That wasn't the issue. No, the problem was him.

Carmen Berzatto, who's family was the epitome of chaos, and who's genes this baby would have. Would the baby have your eyes and his crippling anxiety? His curls and his coping skills? Your nose and smile, and his family's addiction gene?

You would be the perfect mom. You were already so perfect in every way to Carmen. Too kind and forgiving and funny and sweet to him, he couldn't understand why you loved him sometimes. You would be good no matter what.

You'd be better without him.

His mind screamed it over and over. He couldn't shake the thought last night, sitting on the steps of your home, chain smoking through half a pack while his mind raced, horrible voices mocking and sneering at him, telling him he wasn't good enough; that he wouldn't be good enough. That you would be better off alone.

Then he was walking. Walking as fast as he could away from your home, back to the restaurant, where he could distract himself. Where he could trick his mind to focus on anything else other than you.

It didn't work, of course. It never did.

His mind still raced, all the way back to your home- his home. The home he shared with you. The place you bought for the future; your future together. A future that now, looked like it would be a little fuller.

You gripped the porcelain of the toilet seat, stomach lurching again, spilling the contents of- you didn't even know what. How there was anything left, you weren't sure.

Your nose burned with tears, head drumming with a dull ache, throat burning with the acidity flare of bile. And worst of all, the only person you wanted was Carmen.

You were furious, hurt, just... confused with him, but your body still ached for him. For him to come in, rub your back and coo at you. Settle you and calm you, like he always did.

The front door closed softly, the thud of the latch echoing through the all too still house. Anchovy chirped and trilled, Carmen's soft, raspy greeting back to him making your body jolt.

You stayed still, waiting and quiet with each muffled footstep of Carmen's, his sneakers falling closer and closer until the door opened gently. Your gaze on his, watching him with wide, red rimmed eyes from the bathroom floor. His own reflecting down on you, hand still gripping the door knob.

"You... You're still sick?" Carmen asked, awkward and unsure. He didn't know what to say, where to even begin.

"Yeah." You sneered, hand slapping on the knob, flushing the toilet. "Guess that'll be happening for a while."

Carmen flinched at your tone. You were angry. No, you were hurt. The revelation made him feel like he needed to throw up next, the ache in his stomach rivaling the one in his chest.

You pushed up off the tub, Carmen's hands reaching to help you. You slapped them away with a menacing scoff. "Don't touch me." You snapped. "I've got it."

Carmen nodded, backing out slowly, giving you space to brush your teeth. He didn't miss the tremor in your hands when you held the toothbrush, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"I..." Carmen's voice shook, a squeak of a word that had wobbled when he spoke. "I, uh, I-I'm sorry."

Your eyes flashed to his furiously, lips pursing. "I know that's... fuck, that's not..." Carmen sighed heavily, a grounding breath to soothe his nerves, get the shake out of his voice. "I don't know what-what else to say other than... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You sneered, turning to him, your tone unnervingly calm. "You're fucking sorry?"

"Yeah, I-"

"-You left me!" You roared, chest heaving with fury. Your fears and sadness had turned into rage, pure rage.

"I go outside to check on you, and you're gone! Who the fuck does that, Carmen? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You screamed.

"I-I don't know, I just..." Carmen's chest tightened, strangling his words. The pounding in his chest had returned, as had the queasiness in his stomach.

"You just? Just what, Carmen? Just don't want to be with me anymore?" Your voice cracked, tears brimming your waterline.

The silence was back. Uncomfortably loud and suffocating. Neither one of you moved, just stared at each other through heaving chests.

"I-I..." Carmen swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "How could you... You think I-I don't want to be with you?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think, Carmen?" You scoffed, throwing your hands out in exasperation. "You left!"

Carmen winced at the harshness of your tone. "I didn't... I just needed to think-"

"-Think?" You scoffed. "Think about what exactly, Carmen? Huh? Whether you were going to stay-"

"-No! Fuck, no!" Carmen barked, mind racing and overwhelmed. Hands trembling, heart pounding, he stared at you. "About... About how it would be. About how I would be."

"How you would be?"

"Yeah, how I would be." Carmen snaps, a little too defensive even for his own liking. It was habit, even after years of trying to be better, it still crept out at times.

Carmen took a breath, turning to you. "I'm... I don't think I'm going to be a good dad."

Your own heart sunk, a dull ache in your chest, heavy with the weight of his words. The fall of his face, lips curling downward. "Carmen," You said softly. "Why-Why would you... We've talked about having kids before."

"Yeah, but not... I thought I had time." Carmen admitted, hands shaking when he crossed his arms over his chest to still them. "I-I thought I would have some time to-to get my shit together."

You paused, watching his face crumble. The deep breath he took to keep himself from crying- from breaking. "I don't- I don't wanna be a bad dad. I don't wanna fuck this kid up." Carmen whispered, eyes darting everywhere but your own. He couldn't look at you when he said it, sure when he saw the sorrow in your own eyes he would crumble at your feet.

"Carmen," You said softly, taking a step towards him. He took one back, distancing himself. He knew what you were going to do. Reach out and comfort him, make him feel better- he didn't deserve that.

"Carm, please," You begged lightly. "You... You know you're gonna be a good dad-"

"-No, no, I don't know that." Carmen scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, my fuckin' dad was a piece of shit, so was his dad, so-so will I. And-And I don't wanna do that to this kid. I don't wanna do that to you."

"Stop." You snapped, lips pressed together, sniffling to keep your own tears at bay. "Just...Just stop. Ok? Stop. You're... Do you really think I would have married you if I thought that bad of you? Do you think I would have ever even entertained the thought of having a baby with you, starting a family, if I thought you'd be shitty?"

Carmen's own eyes shone with unshed tears. You blinked, wiping the hot tears that ran down your cheeks away. "I'm scared, too. I-I called Alicia over you because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how you would react." You admitted.

Carmen nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes. "So you knew I would react like this? You didn't tell me because you knew I'd be a bad-"

"-No, I didn't tell you because I know you don't like surprises." You snapped. "I know you don't like to be fuckin' blindsided and-and shocked. I don't either. I knew it would shock you. I knew it wasn't apart of our plan right now." You held his gaze, eyes hard when you met his.

"But I never thought you'd be a bad dad." Your tone was firm. It made Carmen's heart swell. "I still don't think you'd be a bad dad, for the record. I think you're an asshole, and I'm furious with you." You said pointedly.

Carmen nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I... I don't blame you f'that." He muttered, looking down at his hands, wedding band shining almost mockingly back up at him. "Sugar's pissed at me. Richie, too." He paused, eyes lifting to yours. "I'm mad at me too."

"Yeah? Me too." You sigh, looking at him. "You can't just leave-"

"-I know." Carmen nodded. "I-I know. I don't... I'm sorry." Carmen looked at you, shoulders falling slightly. "I'm so sorry."

You nodded gently, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. "This is not how I thought this would go, honestly." You admitted with a small, wet laugh.

"Which part?" Carmen hummed, hesitantly reaching out to wipe your tear stained cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"All of it." You sighed. "But telling you. I-I always thought I'd do one of those cute, little Pinteresty things and surprise you."

"Yeah? 'm sorry." Carmen muttered, his heart fluttering with guilt again. "Maybe next time?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. Damn him, making you smile when you were supposed to be mad at him- you were still mad at him. But you were tired even more. Exhausted emotionally, physically- you just wanted to crawl into bed.

Carmen pulled you closer to him, his hand running down your spine. "Maybe you can do that cutesy shit to tell everyone else." He suggested. "I mean... Fuck, well, I-I told Richie and-and Sugar, but... Tina? Or all them?"

You bit back a smile, the curl of your lips betraying you. "Yeah." You hum, your body betraying you as you sunk into Carmen's chest.

"Here," Carmen muttered, pulling you close to him. "I'll get you in bed, and I'll go on the couch-"

"-No," You sighed, shuffled steps down the hall. "I don't... Just sleep in the bed with me."

Carmen hesitated. "No, I-I can stay on the couch. I know you don't-"

"-I can't sleep without you, Carm." You pleaded. "I didn't sleep at all last night, and-and... I just want to sleep."

Carmen nodded, following you into the shared bedroom. Stripping out of his jeans, trading them for sweatpants, before climbing in the bed with you. You stayed on your side, Carmen on his own. There was still tension, still lingering feelings of that familiar eeriness, but there was also comfortability.

Carmen would make it up to you. He'd be at every appointment, paint the nursery- be everything you knew he would be. Later. In the coming weeks as you two welcomed, embraced the baby coming. You'd get to tell everyone in your cutesy way like you'd dreamed. Tina's reaction would make you cry, and the baby shower would make you sob. You'd mull over baby names for hours with Carmen, going back and forth, testing each name tentatively until you found the perfect one.

For now, you were happy just to know Carmen was here with you. You were happy just to sleep. There was still so much ahead of you- of both of you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Thanks as usual for reading.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 

The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  

They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 

As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 

“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 

“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 

“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 

“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 

“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 

“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 

“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 

“Hey!” 

“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 

“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  

“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 

“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 

“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  

You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 

“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 

“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 

You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 

“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 

“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 

“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 

“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 

“You told him that but...” 

“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 

“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 

“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 

“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 

“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 

“They were old?” 

“They match his energy,” he snorts. 

You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 

💟

There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 

The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 

Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 

It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  

You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 

Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 

You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 

As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 

The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 

“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 

You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 

“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 

There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 

The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.

Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 

He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 

You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 

He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  

You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 

“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 

“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 

“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 

“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 

“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.” 

“The river?” 

“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 

“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 

“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 

“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 

“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 

He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 

“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 

“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 

“You’ve been here a while?” 

“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 

“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 

“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 

“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 

You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 

“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 

“You think it’ll hold out?” 

“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 

“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 

“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 

“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 

“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 

“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 

“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 

You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 

“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 

“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 

“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 

“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 

“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 

“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 

You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 

“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.” 

[loves4ge]

office hours

nanami kento x gn!reader

workplace romance

you had to give it to him, the man was dedicated. you don't think you've ever seen nanami kento not working. it was actually kind of disconcerting. made you want to almost invite him for happy hour. almost. you looked at your little office desk succulent, the small mug of markers and pencils, and a tiny picture of you and your little cat.

you thought it was quite plain, but compared to nanami's near-empty desk, it might as well be festive.

"did you send over the email yet?" that was nanami. he asked you politely, in a measured voice that was distant without being rude. you turn to face him, god, he looked good in that tie. your mind processed his question slowly, as you just stared at him.

"um, sorry- the email? what e- oh! yeah, i sent it. sorry, i'm feeling a bit scatterbrained, i suppose." you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. nanami would not be invited to your funeral. you'd die a second time if that happened.

"alright then." and that was it. the quota of your talking time with nanami today was up and you'd have to survive on that sentence to fuel your crush on him. the gravelly tone in which he said alright, you could almost imagine how he'd sound like when he would say sweetheart.

god, you sounded psychotic.

"i'm not a psycho. i'm not a psycho," you repeated in whispers, typing your keyboard with aggressive strokes.

the clock struck 12, and people started filing out of the office for lunch. you texted a friend to see if she could join you for lunch but fate likes to kick you at the worst times possible; she was going to lunch with her coworkers.

your coworkers were nice, but you'd rather not spend a minute more with them unless at gunpoint. even then, you'd probably weigh the pros and cons. you'd love to have lunch with nanami, but after he turned your first two invites down, you never really built up the courage to ask again.

you stood up, making sure you had your wallet on you. you glanced at nanami; he was still seated. pursing your lips, your fingers curled into a fist out of hesitation.

"no plans for lunch today, huh?" you asked, an awkward smile painted onto your face. lord have mercy, your nerves were so visible, it was painful.

"i do." you immediately thought of another place where he could say that phrase, with you standing opposite him—you were psychotic.

"oh, well. guess you can't keep me company today, haha." you wanted to close your eyes out of sheer embarrassment. who says haha?

"that's not true. i could, if you wanted me to." your eyes shot towards him. suddenly, your mouth was dry.

"uh, well. so you'd like to have lunch with me?"

"yes, i'd love to." oh my god, he said love.

"you're sure?" he cracked a slight smile at that, and you were sure your heart was going to burst. in fact, there was 20% chance you were already dead and this was your reward for suffering through a lifetime of humiliations. you weren't sure if this was an appropriate time to pinch your arm to check.

"yes, i'm sure. you have any place in mind?"

nanami kento was going to kill gojo satoru for being the inconvenient piece of shit to ever live. not only did he have the most unserious "emergencies", he also had them at the worst possible times.

first, it was when his beautiful coworker, the one with a blue-potted succulent, invited him for lunch. nanami had noticed them when it was their first day at work, their desks being so close to each other and all. and who wouldn't notice them? nanami certainly had.

the second time nanami had to help with an emergency, it was when you invited him to dinner. this was three weeks after the first invite, so it was obvious that you had worked yourself to ask him. god, it killed him to turn you down.

"no plans for lunch today, huh?" he turned from his desk to look at you. this was a month after the dinner invite. he didn't have any plans for lunch today. he was behind on work, actually. he needed this lunch hour to catch up on things. besides, he had a big breakfast. he could always get something quick to eat at his desk from a convenience store.

"i do."

he was going to kill gojo satoru, right after he took you out for lunch.

[theminecraftbee]

Tango's half-asleep in a cabin he's sharing with Impulse and Skizz and Joker and Zed. It's been loud the past few days as they set up. Most of them plan on being busy during the break, so they won't all be sharing it that often, but they'd needed a place to crash when they weren't busy doing other things. Impulse had offered to let them stay in the Vault Hunters server, but it's practically tradition, shacking up together in a cabin in the woods and pretending no one can get to them. It's rare that they use the cabin for more than a few weeks--rare any of them need it for that long--but it's nice. Traditional. Useful to drag each other to when they get too workaholic.

Honestly, Tango's just been napping. He'd gotten Decked Out to a place it could be run alone, and then he'd gotten decoupled from Decked Out in a process he doesn't really want to talk about that sort of melted his brain out his ears again. He'd gotten yelled at for getting possessed again, and hugged, and then told to describe in exhaustive detail what being possessed was like because as much as Tango loves his friends, neither Zedaph nor Impulse are like, normal about things like that, and--

Tango's legs had barely worked during the end-of-season party. Turns out being part of a machine for like, three months, has an effect on the body when you're removed from it! Haha. Who would have guessed? He'd shared some drinks with the hermits, conspicuously avoiding alcohol on account of the room spinning enough without it, and then told Impulse he had to leave for his own good, please, Pearl could drink him and Gem under the table stop trying to prove otherwise, and they'd departed.

And Tango had taken a nap. And another nap. And... wait for it... another nap.

It's supposed to be a longer break this season. Tango is contemplating napping for at least a month. He deserves it. For him.

Anyway, he's half-asleep in the cabin, halfway still snoozing and quarter of the way catching up on the technical journals he hadn't been reading while he was Decked Out, and quarter of the way remembering how like, fingers work when they're not being puppeted by a massive death machine of his own design, when he catches a look at the time and date, pauses, and realizes something.

"I forgot," he mumbles. "Huh."

He waits a moment for the howling of the absence Decked Out's wind to be replaced with eerie, indescribable silence, like the world had been replaced for months at the start of the season whenever he saw a reminder. The thing is, though, he's just--he's too tired to grieve more. Tired, and satisfied with his work, and he's safely in a cabin in the woods where Skizzleman is sleeping in the bunk above him, snoring with a loudness only Skizz possesses. His brain is still halfway leaking out of his ears and he still sort of craves raw meat. His tongue is real, by the way. He keeps noticing it? His tongue is real? Man, he'd say he doesn't recommend getting possessed, but he's totally going to do it again, and--

"I forgot," he says again, testing out the word against his lips. "The day I died passed and I forgot about it."

Huh.

He waits a few more minutes for the panic to claw at his chest. It strikes him then, though, that it hasn't for some time, and some of that may have been his brain being used as a processing chip for Decked Out in equal measure with like, being his brain, so he didn't have room for that, but. Even before then. Even in the moments he was the most himself.

Huh.

"Toppers?" Skizz asks from the top bunk. "What are you doing awake, huh? It's, uh--dark, I don't know what time it is, I broke my clock."

"My sleep schedule broke during the Decked Out thing," Tango says, "I told you that."

"Yeah, but like--did you have a nightmare about evil cows or something?"

"Evil--what do you think Decked Out is?"

"I was there! I know what it is!" Skizz says. He pauses a moment. "If you need something..."

Tango lies back and thinks of his friends. They were smiling as they left, this season.

"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. It's just that it's 1 AM on the 23rd, is all."

"Oh, man, that late?"

Tango laughs. "Yeah. That late."

He means something different than Skizz.

"Do you think ghosts eat people more if they're sleep-deprived?"

"You are actively going to make it worse for yourself. Also, wait, did you say you broke your clock? How?"

"No, listen--"

He's late.

That's alright.

He'll always have time later.

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire 3

Summary: You’re finally starting to fit in when you freak out in front of everyone. But twenty side eyes later and a lot of forgiveness from your friend Kurt, you discover a scary secret.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Panic attack, manipulation, hidden cameras, finally not as much awkwardness, social dissociation, being in the social eye. Logan is an official warning starting this chapter as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Word Count: 4542 (All other Chapters here) Chapter 4

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again. 

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...

“Alright, everyone, find a partner.” You shouldn’t be surprised that Logan was your teacher for your third period class. You remembered Hank and Logan talking about it the other day in the lab, but it still shocked you for some reason, maybe it was something else that surprised you, like the fact that he doesn’t just let everyone do whatever so he could get it over with. You knew he would be the substitute for both your third and fifth period classes for the rest of this week, and only because Xavier was out on some mission. The thing that bothered you the most now, was that you couldn’t partner up with anyone, and you knew no one would want to partner up with you. So you just watched as everyone else excitedly ran towards their best friends.

“Wanna be my partner?” A hand lands on your shoulder, making you flinch a little. It was Kurt of course. “We have a new student today and my normal partner is their guide.” He explains.

“Uh, yea sure. Cool.” Cool? 

“Cool,” he smiles, his little fangs showing under his lips.

“Everyone have a partner?” Everyone nods, including you. “Good, find a place on the floor and sit in front of your partner.” You follow Kurt to an open spot, there were only about ten other kids in the class so it wasn’t too hard. “Once you’re sitting with your partner, find three things you both have in common. You have five minutes to talk amongst yourselves, time starts now.” You realise he’s reading every instruction from a pamphlet, that helped it make more sense. “Also apparently the three things you have in common cannot be common questions such as colours, animals, etcetera.” He finishes, placing the pamphlet down on the teachers desk. “Now your time starts now.” He picks up his phone, and starts the timer.

“So uh. What are some uncommon questions then?” You shrug, trying to think of a question with him. Why do they have to be uncommon Xavier? What the fuck? You wonder and listen to other students' conversations, but everyone is trying to figure out a question just like you and Kurt.

Your eyes turned back to him, and his index fingers were rubbing his temples, it was actually frustrating him. So now you understand the task. It’s almost impossible to come up with a question that no one commonly asks, so of course, thinking is stressing everyone out. It was anger management after all.

“If you were a unicorn, what colour would you want to be? I’d probably wanna be white.” You tell him, shrugging a little, hoping it would calm his frustration.

“Oh yea. I’d probably be white also, I get tired of being blue.” He chuckles a little.

“Okay if you were a dragon, would you breathe fire or something else?”

“I'd probably want to breathe ice.”

“I think it would be cool to be able to choose.” You tell him, sitting back up and crossing your arms in your lap.

“If you were forced to do one subject for the rest of your life, what would you choose?” He asks you, understanding the project now.

“Definitely science.”

“Same, it’s a more fun subject.”

“Especially compared to anger management.” You joke, making him chuckle quietly. “Okay, one more question.” You prop your elbows on your thighs as you look at him. The rule is no common questions, so Xavier wants us to ask uncommon questions, with common answers.

“If everything in the world could only be flavoured one thing, what flavour would you choose?”

“I would choose vanilla. It’s plain, I can't get tired of it.”

“I would probably choose green apples, but not too sour.”

“How about the scent?”

“Scent I would choose vanilla.” He tells you, one again laughing to himself.

“Same, and there’s our three questions.” You turn your head to look at the projector, there was about a minute left and Logan was going around and asking groups how everything was doing. In another direction, a kid who could harness fire had smoke coming from the back of his head as he thought of another question.

“Alright and how are you two doing?” Logan asks Kurt and then his eyes also move to you.

“Good, we just finished.”

“No common questions?” You both shake your heads. “Good, you’re the only pair to finish so far.” He mumbles, moving onto the next group.

“So what’re you doing after your last class?” Kurts asks you, leaning forward to ask the question, his eyes trained on you.

“I’m supposed to help Hank- Mr. McCoy with another project.”

“You do that everyday.” He leans back on his palms.

“Yea, I never have anything better to do. Unless something comes up then I cancel.”

“So he doesn’t ask you for help? You just kind of pop in?” You nod.

“Unless he asks me to. Then it can be important… it’s usually stupid.” He smiles slightly.

“So my friends and I are having a little sleepover in my room tonight.”

“Oh…” You move your hands together, once again your thumb begins to pick at your skin.

“Yea, it would be cool if you came by. We're gonna have pizza, some drinks, and we're gonna watch a movie.”

“What movie?” You ask, the timer reaching zero as Logan walks back to the desk to turn it off.

“Whatever we pick out of the hat. Last week it was Big Hero 6.” He shrugs.

“Uh, yea. I’ll try, what time?”

“Around 9PM is normally when the others show up.” You nod in understanding, then Logan speaks up.

“Okay so, it says here that you guys are all supposed to stand up and share your groups three questions.” He tells everyone, reading the pamphlet out loud. “But I don’t wanna hear it. So the rest of the ten minutes in class is to yourselves. Enjoy.” He tosses the papers back on the desk and the students immediately begin talking amongst themselves. Talking about anything they could come up with. The news, food, anything, while you and Kurt stood back up, he walked to his friend group expecting you to follow. But you only make your way back to your desk to sit on your phone for the remainder of class. Logans eyes settling on you, and you know you’re not supposed to be on your phone, but he doesn’t bother making a scene, instead, his eyes rest on you, occasionally moving to other students to see what they’re doing or moving to look at his email, but the majority of the ten minutes, all he could look at was you.

And then the bell finally rang, and everyone collected their items in their bags before leaving the classroom for lunch.

Normally for lunch you’d just sit in your room on your bed, finishing any work you had to finish and if you were hungry you’d either tough it out or you would’ve ordered something before your third class ended. Today, Kurt changed your plans.

“Hey, we ordered extra, we were hoping you would also sit with us today?” He asks, holding out a box of food that smelt amazing. So you nod, and follow behind him to the little area his friends were sitting. They all smiled up at you from their spots on the floor, and you joined silently. This dude just bribed you with food.

They all chat amongst themselves, and you simply poke at your food with your plastic fork, occasionally taking a small bite. You’ve never been the type of person who’s able to eat an entire meal in front of people you’ve never spoken to without feeling awkward.

They talked about class, and classwork, and talked a little about hanging out in Kurt's room tonight, but that was about it. Occasionally, there would be an inside joke that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t mind. You kept your eyes on your food, and that was it.

“So what about you?” Jean nudges you, making you look up to see everyone's eyes on you. What was the question? You ask yourself, panic rising in your chest.

“Yea, Y/N. Where would you be if you didn’t have to be here?” Alex, you’re a saviour.

“Uh, well…” You think about it for a moment, not sure where you’d wanna be. Definitely not with your family, you don’t have a home or caring family outside of the mansion. Hell you didn’t even have friends inside the mansion. “I don’t really know.”

“Oh come on. Paris? Mexico?” Scott- or Cyclops asks you.

“Oh, like where do I want to visit?”

“Or live.” Kurt cuts in, smiling at you.

“I would choose Russia.” You shrug, and they all stare at you.

“Imma be honest I was expecting the Maldives or some sort of beach.” Jean laughs a little. “But why Russia? There’s nothing there but snow and vodka.” You nod.

“It’s where I was born…”

“No way…” Alex scoffs. “You don’t look Russian. And you’ve only been here for what? Three years?”

“Almost.” You sigh a little. “About two years and eight months.”

“You literally never talk to anyone.” Jean says out loud, and you look up at her, your eyes daring her to continue. “How do you not have an accent?” Rude. Your eyes squint slightly.

“Okay, guys, next subject.” Kurt says, a little chuckle in the back of his throat. “Actually, what kind of pizzas are you guys wanting for tonight? I’m ordering this time.” He takes out his phone and opens a pizza ordering app.

“Can we get Hawaaian?”

“No, come on, meat lovers!”

“That's gross, why not just normal pepperoni?”

“Well I don’t like sauce.”

“I like alfredo.”

“Guys come on, just choose two. I’m getting two pizzas.”

“So get Hawaiian and meat lovers.”

“What about sauce?”

“Just get a sauce cup, or like five sauce cups? I love sauce.”

“Well I hate it.”

It was too much. Too much back and fourth, and you honestly couldn’t stand it. It was making your head whirr and your brain was pounding as they argue about something as simple as pizza. Then they start arguing about sodas and it’s just all this back and fourth. It was too much.

“Hey wait where are you going?” Alex is the first one to ask about your sudden leave as you get up from the ground and throw away your trash, but you don’t walk back towards them. “She’s not answering me.” He tells the rest of the group, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You just don’t think you would’ve been able to muster one more word from their lips.

“Hey! Y/N, wait!” You hear Kurt's voice call after you and footsteps behind you, and your face heats up as he gets closer, your arms crossing as you try to console yourself. Then his fucking hand touching your shoulder and he turns you around, one hand on each of your shoulders as he tries to keep you steady, but it only freaks you the fuck out.

“Do NOT touch me!” You shout. The entire eating area goes quiet as each pair of eyes lands on you. Shit.

“Hey, uh… Calm down a little…”

“Do not tell me what to do…” You threaten, but it comes out as more of a warning.

“Well uh… you’re probably freaking everyone out with your hands right now…” What?

In your frustration, you hadn’t even realised you had pushed him off of you, his hands were up in defence, but his shirt had a burn hole in it that wasn’t there before.

Looking down at your hands, there was a red and blue glow emitting from your fingers all the way through your veins. You could only imagine how your eyes looked as you stared down at your hands in embarrassment. Oh, right. You can’t control your powers when you’re stressed, frustrated, sad, mad, happy. You always have to be just… neutral.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Another voice calls and Professor Lehnsherr approaches you with a soft smile. “Come with me so you can cool down.” He tells you, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you out of the eating area before anything escalates.

“Alright.” He sighs, and closes your bedroom door behind you. “Want to tell me what happened back there?” You shake your head. It would’ve sounded pathetic. “That’s okay. Oh honey, don’t sit down.” He holds a hand out to grab your arm but doesn’t, knowing damned well he would burn himself if he touched you. “You’ll burn the sheets.” He reminds you, and you take a few steps away from the bed, but bring your hands up to your face to rub your temples, attempting with all of your effort to control your breathing. Got it, so personal questions and constant back and forth conversations stress you out. You tell yourself. “So… I think you should spend the rest of the day to yourself and-”

“No. No, I have to go to class, remember I said I can’t skip anymore just because I can’t fix myself.” You tell him, reminding him of the first time you freaked out and made the promise.

“Y/N, it’s not about fixing yourself, it’s about controlling your emotions.”

“Well everyone else is able to! Why can’t I?”

“Because everyone in this school associates themselves with others.” You hate to say it, but he was right. Everyone else is used to public stress, because they constantly have it.

“Well I still cannot and will not skip the rest of the day.”

“Fine then. Skip just this fourth period, then go to fifth period, but if you feel like you’re not up for it, then send me a text and I’ll send your substitute a text also so he knows you’re not coming.” You don’t say anything. “Sounds good?”

“Yea. Yes. Uh huh, that- yes… that sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll let Hank know you’re not up for fourth period, then like I said.” He makes his way to the door and holds the handle. “Let me know if you need the entire rest of the day off. Okay?” You nod and give him an ‘mhm,’ before he finally leaves.

Okay what normally calms you down..? You wonder, looking around your room and heading towards your desk to search for the little paper you write those types of things on. There was painting your nails, colouring books, sitting in your dark closet because there’s no sounds in there, and then there was a nice shower or bath. Cold, shower or bath of course. You decide you should just do that.

You roll down the sleeves of the jacket that you’ve had on all day, and then unzip it and throw it off into your dirty laundry basket. The bell for lunch had just rung, so the sound of other students chatting in the halls made way into your room. How you wish the walls and doors were thicker. You wonder as you begin to slide off your leggings, also discarding them in your laundry basket before walking into your bathroom and turning on the faucet, letting the water run cold as you step into the tub with your hair up so you could just relax in the water.

As soon as you’re done, you wrap a towel around your body and step out, perfect timing as the fourth class ends and the bell rings throughout the school walls. Then there’s that annoying whirring sound again as you stand in front of your desk, going through the clothes you’d swore you would go through that morning.

After choosing a plain blue sweater and another pair of black leggings, along with your matching set of panties and a bra, you hear yet another clicking sound, the same you heard from last night. You don’t remember hearing it earlier, so you again assume it’s your neighbours, doing something in their room during the ten minute passing period. Annoying. But you wonder what they could possibly be doing with a camera that loud, and that often. It did only start yesterday, so you hoped it would bore them out eventually.

After what felt like a thousand more clicks, on top of getting fully dressed, you decide you’d be able to make it to class. Your nerves were cool, and you didn’t feel as frustrated as before.

So after about a minute with your palm lying on the door handle, you finally had the courage to open the door with about two minutes left to make it to your fifth period, meditation.

Walking back into the halls felt like you were a fox on a bunny farm. All eyes were on you, and as usual, everyone was whispering about you. The only difference between now and before was they didn’t even try to hide that they were talking about you. If you hadn’t been so used to this scene, you would’ve already freaked the fuck out. So instead, you easily and quickly make it to your first class, having enough of the staring eyes.

“Everyone brought their mat today like they were asked to on Friday?” Logan, also substituting for your fifth period.

Everyone takes their mats out of their bag, including you and everyone rolls it out on the floor in their assigned spot. Surprising considering there was a sub. Then again, it was Wolverine. You sit in your assigned spot as well, but a little further away from everyone. Not everyone had been there for the scene that had unfolded during lunch of course, some people were inside the cafeteria. But you knew that by now the word had spread inside and outside of the mansion.

“Today, we’re going to just relax.” His voice softens a little, becoming nearly soothing. “First I’m going to have you all do some stretches though, so will Jean please come to the front to lead the stretches?” He asks, watching as Jean stands with her mat and faces the entire class on the floor before beginning the stretches, the entire class of about thirty people this time copying her.

You watch as she moves to lie on her stomach, and you follow her movements slowly, placing your palms in front of you and pushing up to stretch, then you follow along all the rest of her simple stretches before she finishes and moves her mat back to her original spot.

“Okay, now here’s the video Xavier said to play.” A video on youtube comes onto the projector screen of an elderly woman sitting on a purple mat with her legs crossed, then she speaks into her camera, asking everyone to copy what she does, then the video goes silent for a moment before the sounds of waterfalls and chirping birds play, attempting to put the viewers mind at ease as everyone's eyes close, to apparently rid their eyes of distractions.

You’re ten minutes in. It’s actually peaceful. You tell yourself with your eyes closed, still sitting with your legs crossed on the floor and your hands on your knees.

“Here.” You hear a voice behind you, prompting you to open your eyes. “No, no. Close your eyes and face forward.” He tells you, and you do. He’s quiet enough so only you could hear him over the waterfall and birds. Then you feel his palm press gently on the middle of your back, causing you to straighten your posture as you involuntarily try to escape his touch. “I heard what happened. I didn’t expect you to show up to fifth.” He admits, letting his palm rest on your lower back, just above your ass, and you take a deep breath. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Fine.” You whisper back, matching his quiet tone so as not to interrupt anyones meditation.

“That’s good. I was worrying about you. I noticed you skipped the fourth period.” You hear him move next to you, and you open your eyes just enough so he doesn’t notice. Instead of kneeling, he was now crouching next to you on your right. His left hand moves to your left shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Just let me know if you ever need anything.” Emphasising “Anything,”  making it clear that he’d kick ass just for someone looking at you wrong.

You nod slightly, then in your mostly closed eyes, you see him move closer to you. Flinching as his left hand gently holds the side of your head, your lips parting just slightly as you feel his lips touch your temple. A gesture that was supposed to feel sweet, but everything in you was saying it was sinister. Of course, being you, you throw the red flag out of your head and settle on him just being a good friend. I mean he’s your professor. Surely it wouldn’t be more than that.

Right?

The meditation session ends and everyone rolls up their mats and are immediately glued back to their phones or talking to their friends obnoxiously. You also of course are guilty, turning on your phone to no notifications to reply to, as usual- Wait. I have a text? You open your phone to see the text with Kurt's name right next to it.

Kurt Wagner: I’m hoping you’re still coming tonight?

You: I don’t know… I’m sorry about what happened earlier.

Kurt Wagner: Hey it was an accident, and I’ve been meaning to throw that shirt away anyways.

You: Oh, well I hope it was just the shirt. I didn’t burn you right?

Kurt Wagner: Luckily no. You’re such a worry bug.

You: Sorry…

“Wait, where’s the pizza?” Alex is the first to notice as they all walk into the room, everyone eyes first landing on you sitting on Kurt's bed with your legs crossed.

“Well, turns out, Y/N doesn’t like pizza. So I got KFC, McDonalds, and Taco Bell.” Kurt explains, hopping off the bed and retrieving his TV remote. You didn’t even have a TV in your room. At least not anymore. “I know each of you likes at least one of these, so enjoy.” He tells them, turning back to see you snacking on a quesadilla.

“So what movie are we watching then?” Scott asks, grabbing a solid ten chicken pieces from the KFC bucket. “Have you guys pulled from the hat?”

“We have not.” He tells them, then disappears in his closet, reappearing a minute later with some fancy tophat that makes you smile a little. “Who wants to choose from the hat?”

“Make Y/N.”

“Yea, this is her first time, let her.”

“Just don’t let Scott choose, his hand is a magnet for Toy Story, and if I watch it again I’ll know the entire script by broken heart.”

“Okay, okay.” Kurt chuckles, holding the hat out in front of you and giving you an encouraging smile. “Lets let Y/N choose tonight then.” He says, and you angle your arm slightly to reach into the tophat and pull out the first piece of paper your fingers touch. “What did you get?”

They all stare at you as you open the little paper. “Finding Dory.” Your eyebrow quirks a little.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for someone to choose that one.” Jean tells you and you roll the paper back up, handing it to Kurt and he puts it back in the hat then sets the hat on his desk.

“Alright, let's get this party started!”

Was the last thing anyone had said for over an hour, aside from Alex asking Jean if she was crying when baby Dory popped on the TV. So pretty much, the entire hang out was amazing so far. No complaints, no fighting, and best of all, you didn’t receive a single sidewards look.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, drawing your attention from the movie and you turn the brightness on your phone down as if you’re in a movie theatre to check the notification. A text from Professor Lehnsherr.

Metal Head: Have you received my email? I’ve been worried.

You: Sorry I’ve been busy. I’m fine now though. My computer is in my room so I haven’t seen it.

Metal Head: Well when you get the chance, please check the attachments I’ve sent you asap.

You: Alright.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asks, crawling close to you as you begin to stand up from the floor.

“Yea, just Mr. Lehnsherr asked me to check my email asap, which also means now.”

“You’re probably the only person who doesn’t just call him Magneto.” He adds on. “Can I come with you? I’ve never been in your room.”

“It’s nothing special, but sure.” You both stand up, and you head for the door with him behind you. Opening the door and heading straight to your room.

As soon as you get inside and close the door behind Kurt, you open the laptop that’s sitting on your bed and you punch in the password to check your emails.

“It’s actually really… woodsy in here.” Kurt tells you, looking around your room in astonishment. “It’s funny how every student's room has a different vibe, yours smells like pine.” He sits next to you on the bed, the side of his thigh touching yours.

“He just sent me a bunch of attachments, he’s been really into my work on nanotech so whenever he has a question he emails them to me.” You shrug, typing back a response to his question saying ‘does nanotech make a sound?’

As you type out the response and finish sending it. Kurt speaks again. “What is that whirring sound?” He asks, looking down at you and you look up at him after closing your screen. Your faces uncomfortably close.

“I actually have no idea. It’s been happening since last night, I just assumed whoever's my neighbour got something that makes that sound or maybe the AC is acting up.” You shrug and he stands up, his pointy ears twitching slightly as he picks up your build-a-bear.

“Nobody is in that room… The student who was sleeping there left a few months ago.” He tells you and you slowly get off the bed. Approaching him as he holds the bear. “Y/N… Where did you get this?” You gently take the bear in your hands.

“From the mall… There’s a build-a-bear shop there.”

“The day you went with Professor Howlett?”

“Yes.” You squint your eyes in confusion. “Was this always there…?” You mumble.

“I don’t know, was it?” Kurt asks, looking down at the little bear's right eye which seemed to have a spec of a glowing red spot on it.

Some panic gets to you, setting deep in your stomach, making you want to vomit. Who would put a camera in your bear? You ask yourself, and Kurt verbally asks the same question. “I don’t know… I’m going to bring it to Professor Howlett though… He’s the one that helped me stuff it.” Kurt only nods, and you wrap the bear in a shirt before putting it on the shelf in your closet and closing the door, leaving the camera to watch the dark…

[personwhowrites]

Unforgettable wedding

Platonic TF 141, Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader (18+)

Wc: 6.1k

Cw: Drinking, fingering,vagial sex, unprotected sex, sex in car, slightly possessive Ghost?Teasing, strong language, No use of y/n

Nicknames given: Princess, Doll, Good girl, Baby

Summary: A high school friend (Rachel) invited you to a wedding, you declared you had a lover but actually didn’t. You asked Soap, Gaz and Price to be your fake boyfriend for the wedding. Price agreed after some talking, but canceled due to an emergency. Leaving you to answer questions and peer pressure from friends. Until.. Ghost shows up, pretending to be your boyfriend. Things go okay, games are played and kisses are shared. When he notices you starting to get drunk, he offers to take you home. Little did you know that ‘ride’ home would change everything that involved him..

A/N: I uh… yeah at the last part my mind went blank and uh, lost idea of what i was writing and it turned into something else.

It was a high school friend who was getting married, you kept in touch with them even if at times they were toxic towards you. They added you to a group called “invitations” announcing their wedding. You didn’t see it till two days later, you were busy on the mission that involved your whole time and attention. No one from your personal life knew what job you did, if anyone asked you would brush them off and change the subject. So it came to surprise you, Rachel had invited you to their wedding and you're just now responding.

You: I’ll see if I can make it, I need to work some stuff out first.

Rachel read your message along with other few close friends from the group. You set your phone down not expecting much as Soap approached you with a grin on his face and a can of pop in his hands.

“Las, you have any plans for the week off?” Soap asked as he took a seat next to you. “I've been thinking about visiting my family.”

“Probably nothing like always, which is fine.” You reply while soap opens the can of pop. “Are you seriously drinking that ten month soda?”

“It's called pop, and matter in fact I am.” Soap relies as he drowns the sugary drink. “You seriously don’t plan to go somewhere?”

You open your mouth to reply but your phone buzzes, which you turn over and look at the notification. It's from the ‘invitations’ group chat, it suddenly became active, you open your phone and look at the messages. Your eyes widen as you read the message to yourself, Soap notice and look over at your screen.

Rachel: That’s fine, you probably don’t even have a plus one, so you save us the food for that! I would appreciate a gift or some flowers if we ever meet up again. Xoxo

Soap tilts his head as you start to type something, someone else in the group chat sends a message. Leaving you to gasp and stopping you from sending another message.

Jason: Yeah it's fine, plus you never have time for the group anymore. Anytime that we plan something you always respond late..

You: Because I have to tend to important matters and don’t have time to be on my phone. Anyways I will come then! I will see you all there and hell I will bring my partner!

You didn’t think of the message you sent, until Soap gasps and looks at you in surprise.

“You have a lover?” Soap now asks as you quickly realize what you just sent. “I never knew that.”

“I.. didn’t either..” You mumble and set your phone down. “Shit.. oh god what did I just do.. Soap be my fake date please you're the only one that knows.”

“No can do, I already have my week planned out with my family.” Soap says before chuckling. “Good luck with that, now if you..” Soap burps and holds his stomach. “I'm going to regret drinking that pop.”

Soap gets up as your phone buzzes again, it's a message from the group chat again. This time it was multiple people typing all now excited you will be tending the wedding that was three days away. You nervously bit your lip and read the messages, everyone excited to meet this lover of yours that didn’t even exist. Rachel soon gave you the details of the location and what type of theme you could wear that is appropriate for her wedding. You thanked Rachel and soon turned your phone off and took a deep breath, now where could you find a single man that would be willing to be your pretend boyfriend.

Three hours passed and you were doing some of your daily duties where you met Gaz in the hall. He was heading to lunch alone and crossed paths with you.

“Hey, are you going to lunch yet?” Gaz asked you with a warm smile making you look up from whatever you were doing. “Price and Ghost are there.,”

“Maybe in a couple more minutes, I gotta finish..” Your reply and sigh before looking at the boxes you were carrying. “..Ah this can wait.. You know what's for lunch?”

“The same crappy food that's for sure.” Gaz chuckles as you start to walk with him. “You look uneasy..did someone say something to you?”

“Uh no..” You mumble and then get an idea. “Would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a wedding?”

Gaz stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you, thinking he misheard. You give him an awkward smile and look away now your face filled with embarrassment. Gaz remains silent, he was trying to process what you just said and making sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to be your fake boyfriend at a wedding?” Gaz murmured now amused by the thought. “You should have asked me earlier before I made some plans for the week.”

“Damn you too?” You say now in some annoyance. “I asked Soap but he said he already made some plans.”

Gaz let out a small laugh before walking again, soon the two of you arrived at the mess hall. Price by then had already gotten your tray with Gaz’s knowing you would join him and Ghost. You sat down and ate, nothing too important was discussed at the table, Gaz and Price were chatting about some rookies, while Ghost leaned back in his chair and listened to them. While also looking around as if he was looking for some trouble he could stop. Gaz soon brought up what you said that made you snap back into reality.

“Wait wait, you asked Gaz to be a fake boyfriend for a wedding?” Price now asked you with an amused look. “And you also asked Soap?”

“Yeah, it's just someone's wedding from highschool.. We are a friend group..” You mumble now embarrassed by all of this. “I said that I would go since their group pointed out that I never hang out with them anymore.”

“How can you? You're working away on missions to keep their perfect lives safe, they should be grateful.” Gaz says, shaking his head for a moment. “Can’t believe people sometimes thinking its easy to be in the special british forces..”

“The thing is that they don’t know what job I have..” You admit to Gaz as he lets out a laugh. “I like to keep my work life out of my personal life.”

Ghost looks at you know, he seems to be somewhat interested in what you said, Price laughs a little as you told them. Gaz on the other hand nodded, he knew what you meant and respected it.

“Wait Price, will you be my fake boyfriend?” You ask him quickly with some hope. “Please?”

“Now I would love to help you out of the mess you're in..” Price says taking a bite out of some burger.”But, I can’t do such a thing, especially something like that.”

“But it won’t be real!” You add quickly, seeming more desperate. “Please I’ll be less reckless on missions.”

“You should always be less reckless on missions.” Price points out before letting a sigh. “But okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, your mess now being fixed by your one and only captain. Yet boy were you wrong, on the day of the wedding Price canceled on you and apologized, an emergency had come up and you were left out without a date and the wedding was going to be starting soon. You stood outside the church and groaned softly as you saw the rest of the people arrive for it. One of them being Jason from the group chat, he had a date with him and he looked at you in a polite manner.

“No date? Things sure don’t change even out of highschool.” Jason teases as he walks into the church.

You stare at him for a moment and roll your eyes before entering the church yourself. You felt some people stare at you, it was obvious word got around that you would finally show up to something. You took a seat at the last row of the chairs and remained there for the rest of the wedding, eventually clapping and cheering the bride and groom. In the corner of your eye you saw someone, a dark figure you couldn’t make out, you brush it off as a guest. People started to head to their cars, getting ready to drive to the reception a couple minutes away from the church.

You felt as if someone was watching you, just you. The feeling didn’t wear off as you started to drive to the reception. You felt a car follow you, but the tint on its widows made it impossible to see who was driving. You took a turn into the reception parking lot and parked next to some other people. The car that was following you drove off, making you feel silly for thinking someone was following you.

The reception was beautiful, the place was decorated like any bride would want their reception to be. Yet when you found your name on a table you saw it was at the end of then with an empty chair next to it, you sat down and placed your bag down on the empty seat. Some friends approached you and talked about their lives, one of them made it into the fashion industry and the other was a chef that helped prepare the food for the wedding. Then it came time for you to talk about your job and how your life was.

“Honestly I have a plain life, nothing too important.” You say as attention is on you. “Plus I'm happy you all have successful careers.”

“Yet you never speak about your life, you always keep quiet about it!” One says looking at you with a tense stare. “Are you poor?”

“No..” You say hurt by their comment. “I'm well off of money..Rebbeca..”

“What happened with the partner you had?” Rebbeca asks, pushing you into a tight corner as eyes all on you. “Or what.. Did you lie?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Rachel walked over with a bright smile. All the attention soon turned to her as she opened a chair and sat down with the groom. Showing off her ring and dress, she soon turned her attention to the empty seat.

“Oh my, did your ‘boyfriend’ not show up?” Rachel says now putting shame on you. “You could have told us you didn’t have a lover…we could have used that seat for someone else.”

You stare at her, some anger rising up, but you remain calm. Using all of your energy to not say something that could ruin anything. You cleared your throat and smiled in a polite manner.

“I don’t share anything about my personal life because of my job.” You say brushing your hands against the table. “Being in The special Reconnaissance Regiment is hard to maintain a love life.”

Silence fills the table, no one saw you as some person to work for the army or any job like that. Racheled opened her mouth to speak but Rebbecaa spoke before her.

“You're in the army? I never took you to be one in that type of work” Rebecca mumbles before turning her full attention to you. “Have you.. Killed people?”

“Private information I cannot share for your safety and mine.” You reply feeling some weight for your shoulders to be lifted. “Now I would appreciate it if we just moved on.”

“You always were one to pull twists on us..” Jason spoke and looked at you with a slight grin. “That’s good, honestly I always thought you would join the military but didn’t know what branch..”

You shook his comment off and made sure Rachel had the attention again. It was her wedding after all. The dance soon started for the bride and her parents. You stood by and reached for your bag, maybe thinking its best to leave. You weren’t having fun, and some of your friends wouldn’t leave the topic about your job. Soon someone else walked into the party, they seemed out of place for a moment then their eyes landed on you immediately. Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. Ghost.

He walked past some people who stared at him, he wasn’t wearing his regular ‘creepy’ balaclava but a more normal one. It covered his nose and down. No work uniform was on , but a simple light button up shirt and some pants from a tux, that obviously matched him well. His dirty blonde hair was neatly fixed into a stylish slit back hair style, which you never expected him to have. The tattoos on his forearm were on full display as he finally grabbed your bag and set in on your lap. He took the seat next to you and sigh annoyed..

“Don’t question it..” Ghost mumbled as he leaned back and whispered in your ear. “Be grateful I even considered such a thing..”

“How did you even know where the reception would be held?” You ask as Ghost lets out an annoyed sigh. “I only sent that information to Price..”

“You just answered your own question,” Ghost says bluntly as he looks around. “So much damn white..Jesus I might go blind from it all.”

“You handle flashbangs for a living..” You tease Ghost who immediately gives you a glare. “Sorry, I thought it would be funny.”

“What happens when a strawberry gets run over while crossing the street?” Ghost says leaning closer to you. “Hm?”

“Uh..i don’t know what happens?” You reply slightly amused by this behavior.

“Traffic Jam.” Ghost replies and chuckles to himself. “Another?”

You hold back a laugh, knowing it wasn't funny yet the way his voice makes the joke sound is better. Ghost pulls your chair closer so you can hear his terrible dad jokes better.

“What do you call a pony with a sore throat?” Ghost hums into your ear while you hold a smile back from your lips. “A little hoarse..”

You can’t help it but let a chuckle escape your lips. Ghost soon leans away from you and sits up in the chair. He looks around the party and rubs his eyes slightly showing he is annoyed by all of the lights. You look at Ghost, it was strange seeing him like this. No mask nor face paint made it feel like you walked into another universe. Which at this point you might have now noticed that he was the one that asked Price for the address to see you and help.

“Thanks..” You mumble to him enough to hear. “You really didn’t have to..”

Ghost looks at you, he seems to have something on his mind. His mask moves as he is about to speak, yet the sound of the bride and groom stop him. You turn your attention to the center of the place and listen as the bride is going to cut the cake and food will be served soon.

The rest of the night some of your friends ask you about Ghost but you say nothing. Avoiding their questions and Ghost doing the same, if he did want you to answer a question about him, he would shoot you a glance or nudge your chair. The night went on, Ghost cracked some more ‘jokes’ that made you smile or even get a chuckle out.His arm is soon wrapped around your shoulders. You didn’t mind it and soon rested your head on his arm, things were okay.

“Are you comfortable..”Ghost questions while keeping his eyes away from you. “Aren’t you?”

“I can move away..” You reply and look at him anxiously.

“It's fine..” Ghost replies and looks away from you. “Can’t believe you’re social enough for this kind of stuff.”

“I honestly never come to stuff like this..I'm always lonely.” You murmur as Ghost turns his attention to you.

“Not this time..”Ghost says, sitting up a bit, he places his hand on your face. “You had some sauce on our lips.”

You stare at Ghost as he wipes the sauce away and leaves his thumb on your lips. He's gaze now on your lips, you feel your face heat up. Ghost gently rubs his thumb on your lips then moves it down to your chin, he makes you look slightly up at him. Ghost hazel eyes stare into your own eyes, a thick tension grows. He moved his thumb back onto your lips, gently giving them a brush. Somehow the world around the two of you slowed down, nothing matters anymore..

“..I never noticed.. How beautiful you are up close..” Ghost mumbles as his arm around your shoulders pulls you closer to him. “A sight for my sore eyes..”

Ghost moves his arm away from your shoulders and brings his hand to his mask. A loud sound makes both of you jump and turn away from each other. His hand on your face moving away to his side, the bride had grabbed a microphone and was trying to turn it on.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen! Let's get these games started!” Rachel says with a happy look on her face. “Please bring your chairs and yourself to the center!”

People around you and Ghost started to move themselves and their chairs. You stare at everyone, most of everyone that was at the table left. You then turned your attention back to ghost, who didn’t even seem interested in the game. Rachel noticed you weren’t there and walked over, she grabbed your hand and smiled before speaking.

“Come on! Join us like the good old times!” Rachel says getting people to look over. “Like the good old days, you used to love musical chairs so much as kids.”

You looked around and noticed some people looking over, peer pressure got the best of you and you nodded. Ghost looked at you, there was a hit of worry and annoyance in his eyes. He stood up with you and grabbed your hand, Rachel looked at Ghost, slightly taken back by the sight of him. Rachel soon walked to the center with you and Ghost along with the chairs. It was a regular game of musical chairs, no rules except no harming each other badly. You placed your chair down in the circle, soon the music started and everyone started to move around in a circle. Ghost didn’t even know why on earth he decided to join such a ‘childish game.’ The music stopped and chaos broke, you sat down quickly in a chair as Ghost and a couple others did the same, while two people fought for a chair. One finally sat down and soon the game continued..

Ghost got out the twelve round, he didn’t like walking and too many eyes were on him. He took his chair back to the table and watched as you went against eight people. The number lowered quickly to the point it was only you and some other girl left. Both of you were focused, none wanted to lose or make a fool out of yourselves. The Dj speed up the music and you started to feel your body tense, the music stopped, without a thought you kicked the chair away and the girl fell down before she could sit down. People started to laugh and you picked up the knocked down chair, Ghost slightly was somewhat amused by the sight. The other girl tried to snatch the chair out of your hands but it was all a fail as your grip was strong.

You spun around the girl and placed the chair down, the girl did the same thing as you. She kicks the chair down and you let out an annoyed groan. She grabs the chair with a wide grin and sets the chair down. This could all be over if it wasn't for your need to win no matter what. You kicked the chair down quickly, almost hitting the other girl. She gasped as if in the blink of an eye you picked the chair up and ran to the center sitting down in it.

People cheered and Ghost looked at you with amusement, You soon walked back with the chair and smiled happily. Ghost shook his head trying to shake the look of amusement off, you hugged him without thinking…He hugs you back, a tight embrace happens as the two of you hug each other. You notice your mistake and pull away immediately.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry..I was just so excited..” You say quickly as Ghost pulls you back into a hug. “Ghost?”

Ghost closes his eyes and keeps holding you close, you could swear his breathing get heavier as he held you closer. His cologne filling your nose, Ghost held you close for a period of time. You soon embraced him as well and kept hugging him.

“..Never let go..” Ghost mumbles in your ear, his voice slightly breaking. “Please..”

‘Please’ that word sounded so heartbreaking out of his lips. You just nodded and he let go of you, that was the first time Ghost has ever done that with you. He sat down and pretended like nothing happened and he expected you to do the same.

The rest of the games continued, you would join but not most of them since your feet were tired. Ghost kept you close to him, awfully close. If any of your guy friends approached the two of you, his grip would become tighter on you. The games went on for another hour, soon the bride Rachel announced she would be throwing her bouquet soon.

“You’d think that..You could get the bouquet as well?” Ghost asks, looking at you, before looking at some girls in the center. “If you stand in the back the odds of you getting it are twenty out of hundred.”

“I don’t like the whole bouquet stuff, Rachel would make the girl kiss their partner if they got it.” You reply looking over to the other females. “Plus, I think I won enough games already.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to just have a good time.” Ghost adds looking at you now which you don’t notice. “Who knows if we'll ever be alive to see another wedding..”

You think for a moment then nod, standing up from your seat you walk over to the back. The bride calls out more females to the floor making sure it's even for all the females. The groom gets a chair and Rachel gets on it, she turns her back to the others on the dance floor, people start counting down for her to throw the bouquet. Rachel throws it a three and it hits a fan on the ceiling, which bounces the bouquet and it hits you right in the face. People laugh and cheer as you now hold the bouquet, Ghost eyes widen as he didn’t even expect that himself to happen out of all the possibilities.

“Kiss your partner now!” Rachel says with a smile as she walks over and drags you to Ghost. “Kiss kiss!”

“Rachel, please no lets just move on to the res–” You try to say, but Ghost grabs your waist turning you to him. “Wai–”

Ghost takes his mask down and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He holds your hips, making sure he can hold you correctly. You lean into the kiss and start to close your eyes. It seemed like Ghost wanted to do it for a long time. Ghost breaks the kiss and pulls his mask back and places his hand on your face. He gives you a wink before creasing your cheek with his thumb. Rachel soon walks away leaving you to stare at Ghost in shock.

“I can’t be arsed to care about what you’re thinking..” Ghost mumbles before taking his seat again. “It's all pretend.”

You look at him still in shock and turn away, soon enough you found yourself drinking some fine wine being offered around. Ghost on the other hand remained sober, unwilling to talk to any other female that approached him. His eyes on you as you chugged down wine, there was a time he got worried as people cheered you on to keep drinking. You knew how to handle your liquor, but Ghost didn’t know that. You look at Ghost and give him a drunken smile, yet his eyes narrow seeing that you're drunk down.

“That’s enough drinking now.” Ghost mumbles taking the glass of wine out of your hand. “Do you hear me?”

“I'm fine, Ghost. I can't get drunk so easily with wine.” You say looking at him hoping he would give back the wine glass. “Can I have it back?”

“No, that's enough wine for you today..” Ghost says and sets your glass on the table. “If you keep drinking or try to drink again I will get up and leave.”

You stare at Ghost and soon take your own seat, You lean against his arm and sigh. Maybe you had been drinking too much, maybe the wine was too much for you. Ghost turned his attention to you, pulled you closer to him, almost as if he wanted you on his lap. You nuzzled your face against his arm and closed your eyes, you were starting to blackout..

“You okay..?” Ghost asked with high concred in his voice. “You need to head home?”

“Probably..” You mumble before looking at him. “I might have drank too much today..”

Ghost sighs and helps you stand up, he grabs your bag and starts to walk out with you. Rachel noticed and walked over with the groom, they called out for you and Ghost. He hesitated to stop but did since they were your friends. Rachel and her husband Aaron look at you and then at Ghost.

“You two leaving?” Rachel asks slightly hurt by this. “It's only twelve in the morning”

“She had too much to drink and wanted to go home.” Ghost says looking at Rachel, slight haterade he didn’t like her at all. “If you care about her, you wouldn’t have to come and question why she is leaving early.”

“Easy now, we don’t need an aggressive tone here.” Aaron speaks up trying to make things settle. “We are in the wrong for cheering them on..”

Ghost starts to walk away with you, he makes sure you can lean on him as you two walk. He knew where your car was parked, the exact spot without even checking. You looked at Ghost a little concerned as to how he knew where your car was parked. He takes the keys out of your bag and looks at you.

“I'll drive you home then get an uber back here to drive my own car.” Ghost says and opens the passenger door. “Come on..”

You stare at him for a moment and get in your own car. Ghost closes the door and walks to the other side, he opens the door to the driver side, he sits down then adjusts the seat. Ghost looks over at you for a moment and pulls his mask off completely. Then grabs your head gently with the palm of his hand on the back of your head. He leans in and kisses you, the kiss was less sloppy than before. Ghost gently grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you closer, he can’t get enough of your lips.

Ghost moves his other hand to your neck, you look at him as he leans in for another kiss. Your lips crash against his, he groans in the kiss. The hand on your neck gives you a gentle squeeze. Ghost hand on your hair moves to your back, he bushes the straps of your dress and looks at you with desire.

“Are you okay with this doll?” Ghost asks, looking at you. “Do you like me kissing you?”

Ghost looks at you and smiles, it is odd but yet comforting. You meet in his gaze and place your hands on his cheeks.The palm of your hands brush against his stubble, he leans close to you. Another kiss is shared between the two of you, Ghost wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you closer to him, he lets go of your neck, placing his hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles on your skin. Without a thought he kisses your neck as you let go of his face, you toge on his shirt and bite your lip.

“Use your words..” Ghost says giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Come on..”

“I want this Ghost..” You reply as he places his hand on your chin. “Don’t.. Make me beg..”

“You’re drunk.. If you were sober maybe I would go further with you princess..” Ghost mumbled before turning his attention to the steering wheel. “Let’s get you home.”

You stare at Ghost feeling disappointed, but understand that he wanted to keep his desires in check. Ghost pulled out of the parking lot and headed into the road, once in a while he would look over at your body. How it bounced to each bump on the road, his desires and mind started to wonder as the straps on your dress slid off your shoulders. Ghost stops the car by a park nearby and turns the car off, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He turns his attention to you and your neck. Pulling you close, Ghost leans his face to your neck..

“You drive me crazy, a crazy I can't hide anymore…” Ghost murmurs before kissing your neck. “Do you want this doll? Do you want me to take you here and now..?”

You let out a soft moan and nod, Ghost wastes no time helping you get on his lap, he leans the seat back. You hear him undo his buckle of his pants, he was wasting no time to take you. To give you the pleasure you two desire in such close space. You kiss Ghost and watch as he moves his hand to your inner thighs, he gives them a gentle squeeze. He slides his fingers against your clit, shivers go down your spine.

“Look at you.. Already wet, partially dripping onto my fingers.” Ghost teases and rubs circles on your clit. “Think you can take me baby? Think you can take me like the good girl you are..”

A whimper escapes your mouth and you look down at Ghost. Who’s admiring the faces you make to his touch, the sweet sounds you give him. Ghost soon removes his hand away from your pussy and licks his finger, you blush to his action.

“Why would you do that..” You mumble in slight embarrassment. “Gh–”

“It's Simon to you princess..” Ghost says inserting two fingers into your pussy without a warning.

You arch your back and let out a loud moan, he didn’t give you any warning. Slowly he fingered you, enjoying watching you come undone to just his fingers. Ghost moved at a slow pace, wanting to savor every second of your reaction. Your hips soon started to move on their own, your body wanting more of his finger. Ghost pulls them out and looks at you while you let out a small whimper. Ghost chuckles and moves his throbbing cock close to your pussy.

“Patience, pretty girl. Patience..” Ghost mumbles and looks at you. “You think that you can handle it?”

You give an quick nod and try to place your body on his cock, but Ghost stops you and rubs your hips. He knew you wanted as much as he did, but he wanted to make sure you could take him. Ghost brushed his hands on your hips and bit his lip, he wanted to just ruin you and keep you close to him.

“Gh–Simon.. Please..” You beg now looking down at him. “Please.. I can’t keep waiting..”

You start to beg him, he loves the sight of you begging, the sound of your whimpers wanting your own hips to be placed on his. Ghost without warning drops your body on to his cock, he lets out a satisfied groan as you let out a small cry. You have taken every single inch of him, Ghost rubs your hips again letting you adjust to him. Some tears escape your eyes and you hold onto the handle off the door. Ghost shifts on the car seat and lets out a groan as take more of him in.

“Bloody hell..you're so perfect.. So bloody perfect for me..” Ghost moans out and closes his eyes. “Perfectly made for me baby..” He pauses for a moment and digs his fingers on the side of your hips. “Think you can move a baby girl, think you can move this beautiful body of yours?”

You give him a gentle nod and slowly bounce on his cock. Ghost groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, he lets go of your hips and places his hands on your thighs. Giving them a good squeeze, you can’t help but moan his name as your hips move.

“That’s it princess that's it..” Ghost murmurs while giving your thighs another squeeze. “ Use my cock to satisfy this pussy of yours.”

Ghost was completely pussy drunk, mumbling things as you bounced on his cock. Ghost opened his eyes soon enough to catch a glimpse of your face, how you particularly looked at him. Ghost moves his hands back to your waist, he adjusts himself and thrust into you. You let out a moan, Ghost started to move himself as you arched your back trembling as you were on your high with him, Your eyes rolled back and your moans were music to his ears.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me..”Ghost says, thrusting his cock recklessly into you. “That’s it, love.. Bloody hell..that's it clinching that pussy around my cock.”

Without another word you moan loudly and let your body fall on him, You had reached your orgasm. Ghost wasn't so far behind, he pulled out and came on your ass, he groaned and soon wrapped his arms around you. He took steady breaths and brushed his hand on your hair. Gently patting your back with his other hand.

“You did so good for me doll.. So good..” Ghost murmurs into your ear and holds you close. “Breath..”

“I.. love you..” You reply without thinking. “I really..love you..”

Ghost looked at you and then sigh softly before kissing your head. He holds you close but says nothing. The both of you stay like that for a couple minutes, crickets and sounds of nature lay on your ears as finally Ghost speaks.

“I love you too..” Ghost mumbles creasing your face, before kissing your cheek. “We still need to get you home.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off of Ghost. You sat back in the passenger seat and watched as Ghost buckled his pants up again, you in the meantime fixed your panties. He started the car and got out of the parking lot of the park. Ghost glanced over at you while he drove. Things were definitely never gonna be the same between him and you, Ghost knew that like you did. He placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked at Ghost, as he drove your car, the car you had your first time with Ghost, so many thoughts and so many questions but what did that matter now? This wedding was definitely going to be an unforgettable one.

[sinofwriting]

Made For Each Other - Max Verstappen

Words: 3,486 Summary: Max never put much stock into love at first sight until meeting her. Note(s)/Warning(s): Near Physical Cheating, Some Emotional Cheating (on Kelly not reader). So this is the toxic!max fic I mentioned and uh yeah this isn’t super like toxic but it’s something. Also, I will not apologize for inserting found family into this fic.

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“What?” Max presses his lips together, jaw twitching and he’s happy that P isn’t here, but with Daniil’s parents. “Things haven’t been good for us in awhile.” Maybe ever. He thinks and nearly winces, because they had been good in the beginning. But things had changed halfway through the 2021 season and it had only gotten worse as the weeks and months went on. “Kelly, it is unfair to you for me to pretend that I want to be with you anymore.” He nearly says that once the season was over he was already planning on breaking up with her, but manages to hold his tongue. She’s looking at him in that way that he hates, that’s caused arguments because it reminds him of his father. “What do you want me to tell P?” He can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him at her easy acceptance. “Tell her that I will always love her and that if she ever wants to talk to me, she can call and I’ll do my best to answer.” “Okay.” Her voice is quiet and she looks around his apartment. “There shouldn’t be much here, but what you do find, have it shipped to me.” “Of course.”

He watches as Kelly walks towards the front door and maybe he shouldn’t say anything, doesn’t want to give her false hope, but he can’t help it. “Kelly.” She stops, her hand on the door knob ready to turn it. “Thank you for the past few years and all your support.” He sees her shoulders move as she sighs. “Your welcome, Max.” And then she turns the handle and walks out of his apartment.

He watches the door for a moment, feeling like if he looks away, suddenly she’ll be back. But the handle doesn’t turn and he’s spinning around to move to the couch where he had thrown his phone when Kelly had unexpectedly come here.

His thumb quickly moves across the screen, opening his last text message thread and sending a simple text.

I broke up with her.

It stares up at him and three dots appear along with those little check marks and he can’t help but smile. And god if the media could see him now, smiling after just breaking up with his girlfriend of so long, they’d use this as some sort of proof that he is the devil.

And now what?

His smile grows and his thumb moves again.

And now I come to you.

—

“You know, I thought you athletes had to train. Keep fit for the season.” She teases as he watches her move around her small kitchen. “I’ve barely been here a day and you’re kicking me out?” She shakes her head at him. “No it’s just I know that China got canceled, but you do have another race soon.” He shrugs, “It’s at the very end of the month. Besides, there's a gym close by. I can go there.” “And did you tell your trainer that you wouldn’t be home so he shouldn’t drop off any food or expect you?” His eyes widened. “Fuck.” He curses, scrambling out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where his phone is, her laughter ringing in his ears.

Calling Brad, he hears the phone ring three times before his trainer picks up. “Hello,” “Hey Brad, uh I’m not home right now. I mean, I’m not in the uh country.” “Did they call you for some testing?” “Uh no. I’m not there either. Just took a bit of a break, so don’t worry about meals or anything.” There’s a bit of silence before Brad speaks again. “Max, is everything alright?” “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. I just needed a bit of a break. I’ll see you in Milton on the twenty-first, yeah?” “Sure.” “Great.” And Max hangs up the call, feeling a bit like a hurricane.

“You’ve made me go crazy.” He tells her when he sees her standing in the door of the bedroom, raising an arm when she doesn’t move. She immediately moves into his space, wrapping her arms around his waist, as his arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Have I?” “Yes. Meeting you has made me crazy.” “Do you regret it?” “No.” The answer is swift and firm, because no he could never regret it.

So much had changed since he had seen her for the first time just barely two weeks ago. Most of those changes happened in the past forty-eight hours. But he liked those changes.

He liked how he felt ever since she first looked at him, shook his hand, said his name. Liked how she made him smile and laugh. Maybe it was fucked but he liked how in Austrailia when he won and he nearly kissed her at the afterparty, she had to press her hand on his chest and hold him back. Remind him that he had a girlfriend. Had to stop him from pulling out his phone to call her and break up with her right then and there. Liked that despite that, she had taken his unlocked phone, added her number and told him to text her. Pressed her lips to his cheek and let the scent of her bury itself in his brain. He liked that when he first texted her asking when he could see her again, she hadn’t asked who, just told him they could talk when he was single. Liked that barely a day later he had texted her telling her he was and now he was here, with her, in her home.

Max loved however, her. The way she kissed him when he showed up at her doorstep. The then slight shyness she had over her giving him her number and her text, though there was no guilt or apology to be found in her words. Just more disbelief that she had done so. How she smelled, her house smelled. The way she sat, how her fingers brushed over his skin. How passionate she was about her job, about the music she listened to, and the candle that sat beside her bathtub.

And so it comes out. “I love you.”

He shouldn’t be saying it. People would and will call him crazy for it, but he knows himself. He knows what he’s feeling. And he loves her. Loves this woman that he hasn’t even known for a month. And fuck, people like to talk about how love at first sight doesn’t exist and you don’t know when someone is the one immediately or so soon after meeting them, but that isn’t true. There are outliers. He’s got a cousin that married her husband barely a year after dating him and they are happier than any couple he’s ever seen. One of the guys he grew up karting with met his girlfriend and a month later they were moving in together. He thinks they have three kids or maybe it’s four now.

And she, she feels like he was made for her and only her.

“I love you too.” The words aren’t whispered, no shame or doubt on them. Just certainty and he doesn’t know that she’s thinking the same thing. That she was made just for him.

—

She doesn’t come to the next race no matter how much he begs. Even when he’s about to run late for his flight back to the factory, head buried her neck as he pleads with her to come. But she only laughs, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“You just barely made a statement about no longer being with Kelly.” And he kind of hates that there’s no distaste in her voice about him having a girlfriend when they met. He knows that if she had been seeing someone his blood would be boiling everytime his name got brought up or even hinted at. “Give it a bit to settle.” He straightens with a bit of frown, “I won’t hide you.” She laughs, eyes lighting up and it makes him smile. “I’m not asking you too. Just for patience. I don’t want your PR team to end up hating me.” “Miami, then?” She shakes her head, pushing him away. “You have a plane to catch, Max.” “Imola?” He asks, backing up. Eyes widening a bit when she shakes her head again. “Monaco?” “Max!” And she’s laughing again. “Spain?” And this time she nods her head and he groans, picking up his duffel bag that’s been sitting by the door for probably thirty minutes now. “That is so fair away. You will make me wait that long?” “Oh, poor baby. Having to wait just a little over a month.” He pokes his bottom lip out, unashamed to pout. Because yes, not having her with him for the next four races sounded like torture. He had only gotten a taste of what her support was like in Australia. He wanted all of it now.

She must see that on his face because her smile turns fond, no more teasing and she’s capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “It will go by faster than you think, Max. And it gives me enough time to get everything situated so I can really be comfortable working from anywhere in the world.” “So, you’ll join me for the rest of the season?” “Yes.” He grins, pressing their lips together once, then twice. “If it does not go by fast like you say,” She stops him before he can continue. “Go, Max, it will. And I’m always a call away.”

—

The press eagerly awaits Max’s arrival in Baku. Hoping to see the two time world champion, downtrodden, miserable, regretful. Instead they get an even better story. He arrives at the track on the phone laughing, smile wide and body relaxed. It wasn’t the image of a man who had just separated from his girlfriend of a few years. It was the image of a man happier than he ever had been before.

They all want to ask questions, want to ask who he’s talking to, what or who perhaps has him smiling. Why did he and Kelly break up? Did he break up with her? Did she with him? But none of them are willing to risk the odd relationship that Red Bull has with the press, kind even generous until you cross the line.

—

“No more races without you.” He murmurs when she arrives at his hotel in Spain, his breath causing goosebumps to appear on her neck. “No more.” She agrees, before pulling slightly away, just so they can look at each other. “Hi.” She greets. He smiles at her. “Hi.” “Congrats on Monaco.” He huffs, but something warm fills him with her words. “You said that on the phone.” “That was on the phone.” She teases, before lifting her arms to loop them around his neck. “Proud of you, Max.” He doesn’t know how to respond to that, to how sincere her words are, so he presses their lips together.

“I love you.” She breathes when they break apart, panting slightly with shiny and swollen lips. “I love you too.”

—

The camera's shuttering intensifies as soon as Max’s car that he was given for the race weekend arrives at the track on Saturday. And it only gets worse when instead of just locking the car and starting his walk to the red bull garage, he rounds to the other side, opening the passenger door and helping a woman get out.

This woman is not one that any of them recognize. She is not Max’s mother or sister. She is not Kelly or some sort of model, super, instagram, or swimsuit. And even better they don’t recognize this Max. Who as soon as she is out of the car, purse in hands, shuts the door for her, which is fairly typical for him. But what is not is the way he presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss, before snaking an arm around her waist, a sort of love sick smile on his face as they begin the walk.

“I can’t believe you wanted me to come to one of these things earlier.” She murmurs to him, giving a wave to all the cameras. If she was going to do this, be with Max, she’d have to get used to them and quickly. “I still wish you had.” He murmurs back, squeezing her waist and turning his head to press his nose quickly to the top of her head. “Did you tell anyone about me or that I was coming?” She asks, though she already has a feeling what the answer is as they move further into the paddock and sees some of the drivers do double takes. He smirks, “now why would I do that?” She shakes her head, “your PR team is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Her eyes then catch on a slightly familiar man who’s looking at Max with murder in his eyes and she amends her statement. “Daniel is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Max pales slightly as he takes a look at the man she only knows from his stories and a few brief clips she’s seen on youtube.

As soon as they enter Red Bull’s hospitality for the weekend, Daniel pounces. Dragging Max and her since Max refuses to let go of her, to Max’s drivers room.

When the door closes, Daniel shoves Max though she expects more gently than he normally would due to her and stands in front of the door, hands on his hips, anger and disappointment warring on his face.

“Max.” “Daniel.” He replies, though it's a bit meek and she can’t help but give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go and stepping away. Not returning to his side despite the offended and hurt look he gives her. She shakes her head. “I told you that you could tell people.”

Daniel turns to look at her, giving her a quick grin. “I like you.” He declares before turning back to Max, grin gone.

“Seriously Max. First there was Kelly and you breaking up, which I found out through social media and you still haven’t told me how that whole thing went down.” She winces at the exasperation in Daniel’s voice. She knew from Max how close they were, considering themselves brothers just about and she couldn’t imagine how Daniel felt learning about Max’s breakup from social media and not the man himself.

“And now this!” He waves his hands around between her and Max. “I’m sure you're great.” He tells her quickly and she gives him a sheepish smile. “I mean really Max. What gives?” Max stares at the older man, unsure of what exactly to say to him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t think the people he was closest to weren’t going to have a reaction to the news of his breakup and now new relationship. It’s just that besides Daniel none of them had really reached out wanting to know what happened because they were all right with not knowing. They knew that if Max wanted to talk about it with them, he would. But Daniel was different.

He talked to Daniel about everything. A side effect of the older man having to deal with him as a teammate for those few years when he was so young and trying to really figure himself out. They had developed a different kind of relationship. One where he knew that he could go to Daniel with anything and everything and receive no judgment, only support. Daniel to him was a weird cross of a friend, brother, and father.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes and his hands tighten into fists a little. Always unsure of himself when apologizing. “I should have called. Told you, explained what happened.” He hesitates, but knows that Daniel deserves the truth. “I nearly did.” And wasn’t that the truth. There were many times he nearly called or texted Daniel to tell him about the stunning girl he saw, then met, then nearly kissed, then got together with. But he hadn’t. He knew if he told Daniel, he’d end up telling everyone. Daniel stares at him, face giving away nothing, making him fidget, before he sighs and gives Max a smile. “It’s all good mate. You’re a bit of a cunt. But,” he shrugs, grinning. “You’ve always been like that.” Max lets out a laugh, relaxing at the familiar energy of Daniel. “Yeah, just a bit.”

He turns to look at his girlfriend, who's looking between the two of them with a smile, beckoning her back to his side. Enjoying how she easily fits into his side. “Daniel, this is my girlfriend,” and he knows his voice is lovesick when he says her name with the way Daniel looks at him. “Darling, Daniel.” “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Max talks about you a lot.” Daniel’s eyes flicker to Max, expecting some sort of an embarrassment or denial, but the younger man just nods. And that’s good enough for Daniel, who immediately grins at her before pulling her into a hug. “Nice to meet you as well. Max treating you well? I taught him everything he knows.” He tells her with a wink when he releases her. She lets out a small giggle at his words, but nods. “Very well. And thank you for your services.” She winks, making Daniel laugh.

“Oh, you are amazing. Now, tell me how this happened and what happened with Kelly.” He says gesturing between the two of them, sitting on the folding chair in the room, while they sit on the couch. “They are very much connected.” She laughs, before patting Max on the arm and sitting back fully.

“Oh, no.” Max groans, running a hand over his face. Daniel was going to have a fucking laugh. “So, we met a little before the Australian Grand Prix. Nearly had an incident there.” He tilts his head towards her and Daniel nods, understanding what he’s saying. “I actually nearly broke it off there. She managed to stop me however. But when I got home to Monaco, I broke up with Kelly then and there. Was already planning on doing it at the end of the season.” Daniel nods. “You mentioned that before.” “Yeah.” Max sighs, before telling him the rest.

Daniel stares at him for a moment after he's done before shaking his head, with a sort of breathless laugh. “Only you, Max. Only you. I’m happy for you though.” Max smiles at the older man’s easy acceptance. “Thank you.” “PR’s going to kill you for not giving them any warning.” He rolls his eyes, she had been telling him the same thing. “They won’t do anything. Besides, didn't they want me to be more personable?” “Don’t think this is what they meant or had in mind.” She tells him. “Probably hoping you’d vlog. Do what Charles and Lando do.” His nose wrinkles at the idea, making her and Daniel laugh.

—

“You’re good for him.” Daniel murmurs as they watch qualifying. She turns her head a little, still keeping most of her focus on the track. “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects, taking a moment to flash her a smile. “Max and Kelly,” he sighs. “They had a lot of issues.” She says for him. “Wanted different things or the same things but not at the same time.” “Yeah,” the older man breathes, feeling at ease with how much she knows. “She made him happy at first ya know? But you,” he pauses to shake his head. “You make him into the person I think he would’ve been without Jos. Relaxed, at ease, happy.” His voice is a little quieter with the last word and she has to blink so she doesn’t start to cry. “I want him to be happy. And I know we fell into this fast, but Max.” She sighs, feeling a smile stretch across her lips as her heart flutters in her chest all at his name, at the thought of him. “I was made for him.” Daniel chuckles, taking in the infatuated, lovesick, expression on her face. It was the same look he had seen earlier on Max. It was nice to see that it really did go both ways. “There might be some fuss around it, but it’ll die down eventually.” He hesitates not wanting his next words to seem to much, but thinks fuck it. They went to the extremes here, and she’d have to get used to it fast with Max, if she wasn’t already. “I’ll message a few drivers that I know will support you and Max. We’ll have your guys back with the media or anyone else.” His support and approval make her reach out, squeezing his forearm for a few seconds. “Thank you, Daniel. It means the world to me.”

---

Tagging: @lapb @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

[guitarstringed-scars]

the ravens eye diner- hajime iwazumi

masterlist

table for four

hajime was 2 days into his master plan of never seeing you again. it was going…rough. his mind had already adjusted to his new routine of running to the little diner and getting a cup of coffee. but he would be fine, he barely knew you. only knowing things like your name, and snippets of your personality he learned from stories you told as you refilled his coffee cup, or jokes you’d tell about the other customers.

but he wanted to know everything about you. your go-to coffee order, how many freckles you have, what your favorite color is, even your last name would be nice. he shakes these thoughts from his head.

he has no right to even wonder, because he was just a customer who happened to sit in your section. you probably haven’t even thought of him since he left. but why can’t he stop thinking about you?

“why have your runs been taking so long lately?”

hajimes head snaps up to see his roommate, toru oikawa. fuck he’s been caught.

“what are you talking about?” he asks, trying to cover.

“well, usually you’re back by 7:15 at the latest, and i use your door slamming as an alarm. but lately you haven’t been getting back until like 7:40.” toru rattles off, leaning against the doorframe.

“just been taking a longer route.” hajime dismisses him. ”doesn’t sound like you iwa…” toru sounds extremely suspicious.

hajime rolls his eyes.

“is that all you wanted from me?” he asks, turning back to his paper.

“no, i was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with mattsun, makki, and i.”

hajime thinks for a moment. he is hungry. but does he really want to sit through his friends nagging? he decides it’ll be worth it.

“fine.” he stands up, stretching his legs. makki and mattsun already sit in the shared living room.

“where should we go?” mattsun asks, scrolling through restaurants on his phone. makki sits next to him doing the same thing.

“theres a diner just a few blocks away, it looks pretty good.” makki muses.

“oh i would kill for a stack of pancakes right now.” toru groans.

hajime freezes. he hopes there is a different diner a few blocks away that he just never noticed.

“sounds good, what’s it called?” mattsun asks.

“um…” makki scrolls to the name. “the ravens eye diner.” well shit.

“oh, i’ve heard of them, their food is apparently really good.” mattsun says.

“okay, let’s go!” toru cheers.

hajime wants to die. at this point he knows there is no way that he can convince them all of a different restaurant, especially with torus heart dead set on pancakes. it’s okay, theres like a 25% chance that you are working, maybe less.

so, the party of 4 treks out into the great outdoors, and take the brief walk to the ravens eye diner. he’s greeted by the oh so familiar sound of the whir from the coffee machine, and the familiar face of the blonde hostess. hajime hides himself behind the other three men. sure he’s acting a bit childish, but he feels a bit embarrassed.

“hello! how many today?” she asks.

“table for four please!” toru says, smiling at the girl. she picks up the familiar menus, and as she looks up, hajime makes accidental eye contact with her. her eyes widen. that can’t be a good sign, he thinks.

she leads the group to the same table hajime sat at 4 days in a row last week. the table in the corner by the window. he takes the seat closest to the window, and everyone files in around him. the quartet goes quiet for a bit as they scan over the drink menu. hajime already knows what he’s getting, and he knows whats coming. the server.

much to his dismay, he is greeted by a smiling face. your smiling face.

“oh hi hajime! been a while!” you greet. he feels the confused stares of his friends on him.

“hi y/n, uh just a-”

“black coffee?”

“yeah, thanks.” he looks down at the table, ignoring their gazes.

“and for the rest of you?”

hajime doesn’t listen as the other three rattle off their drink orders. he’s too focused on the fact his head might explode because of how red he is.

he listens to the click of your shoes as you leave the table, and he knows he’s about to get attacked.

“how come you never mentioned you’ve been here before???” toru jumps in immediately.

“or that you knew the cute waitress!” mattsun adds, tagging on.

hajime just sits with his blushing face in his hands while his friends bombard him with questions. thankfully, they can’t pester him for long before you are back with a tray propped up on your arm, handing off their drinks. you set down hajimes hot coffee carefully in front of him, just like you’ve done the last 3 times.

“i’ll give you a few more minutes with the menu.” you say, waltzing off with your tray.

hajime wishes you would stay at the table forever. so he’d be protected from his friends nagging. what other reason would there be?

“ooo our little hajime has a crush! this must be why your runs take so long! i knew you were suspicious!” toru has won. this may end up being the worst meal of his life. toru has starting poking him in the sides, and hajime defends himself by slapping the back of his head.

“i do not have a crush! i just… come here for coffee some mornings.”

“oh so it’s just random when you come?” makki asks, skeptical tone evident on his voice.

“yes!”

“lie. nothing you do is random. you totally have a crush.” mattsun catches him. he hates how they are 100% correct.

“keep your voice down. please.” hajime pleads.

“he’s not denying it. wow, in our many years of friendship i have never seen you this flustered!” toru jokes.

hajime quickly finds his head in his hands again.

the next few minutes are filled with relentless teasing for hajime, and you freaking out in the back.

“your lover boy is back!” alisa cheers after hearing the news from hitoka.

“he is not my lover boy!” you defend yourself, grabbing your notepad and rushing right back out of the kitchen to take their orders.

funny how on opposite sides of the restaurant the same conversation is happening.

you arrive back at the corner table to see an extremely red faced hajime. maybe you want him to be your lover boy.

“alright, ready to order?” you ask, as the group turns to you.

“i’ll do toast and sunny side up eggs.” from the guy across hajime.

“waffle please!” from the one next to him. you turn to hajime next.

”um…i’ll just stick with the coffee for now.” he sounds unconfident in his answer. ”you sure?” you ask, looking up from your notepad. he nods, face still red as ever.

“hm, and for you?” you ask, turning to the final guy, you recognize him as one of the university volleyball players, but you can’t quite recall his name.

“i’ll do the stack of pancakes please,” he starts. “and also….your phone number for my dear friend hajime here!” he finishes his sentence with the most gleeful voice, it actually makes you laugh a bit.

“alright then.” you say, before turning on your heel and leaving. as you walk away you can hear hajime scolding him.

after you drop off their food and refill hajimes coffee, they request 4 separate checks, so you head to split the check in the back.

but, at the bottom of a certain check, you scribble down a quick note.

𖦹₊⊹fun facts⊹₊𖦹

-you started looking forward to your shifts when iwazumi was showing up but then he stopped so you went right back to being late

-hitoka was very scared by the group of 4 giant men

-alisa is a gossip machine, she knows everything about everyone in this restaurant

-toru loves to wingman

a/n: HE GOT THE NUMBER oikawa best wingman ever even if he wasn't asked to be.

taglist:

@wyrcan @nbcvs @froyaoya @mylahrins @wizardhore

@chloiyoomi @causenessus @bubooo @lvtilzs @nishayuro

@diorzs @19calicos

[moodymelanist]

Hey There, Summerboy

happy @cassianappreciationweek everyone! i'm so so excited to see what everyone creates for this week<3

does parasailing count as flying? of course it does. hope y'all enjoy this one and see you again for more cassian goodness later this week!!

Summary: When the Valkyries’ parasailing excursion doesn’t go as planned, the hot guy on the beach swoops in to help Nesta out.

Word Count: 2,165

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta

Nesta sighed happily as she reclined in her lounge chair, shifting ever so slightly to make herself more comfortable. She’d been looking forward to this vacation for months now, and God did it feel good to relax by the pool without a care in the world. The sun was warming her perfectly, she looked great in her navy one-piece, and she’d deleted Outlook from her phone for the week.

She, Emerie, and Gwyn had planned a much-needed girls trip to Mexico, and so far everything had been going perfectly. They’d booked an all-inclusive resort in Cancun – a little further down the hotel strip to lower their chances of being bombarded by college students – and the food was good, the weather was perfect, and Nesta had never enjoyed her life more than this moment.

All she needed now was for Gwyn and Emerie to come join her, but they were taking their time enjoying the buffet. Nesta knew they were actually trying to decide whether a pretty blonde woman and her brooding friend were dating or just friends, so she told them to just catch up with her by the pool once they were finished.

Nesta let herself doze for a bit while she waited for them, and she returned to full awareness at the feeling of someone gently poking her shoulder. “Hmm?”

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” Gwyn said from above her with a wide grin. She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head, her hand even more freckled than usual thanks to all the time they’d been spending in the sun. “You ready for our excursion?”

“What are we doing again?” Nesta asked, sitting up once she’d adequately stretched her limbs out. Gwyn had gone a little crazy with booking fun things for them to do, and while normally Nesta would be trying to reel her in just a little, she’d been so exhausted and burnt out from work lately that she hadn’t had the heart to tell Gwyn no.

“Parsailing,” Emerie answered. She messed with the straps of her black bathing suit before adding, “We just have to go down to the beach.”

“Yeah, okay,” Nesta replied, glad that she’d worn a more secure bathing suit today. “Let me pack up my stuff and we can go.”

Gwyn beamed. “Yay! I’ve been looking forward to this all vacation.”

“You’ve said that about all the activities,” Emerie responded, teasing just a little bit. 

“Yeah, because they’ve all been exciting,” Gwyn fired back without missing a beat. “Come on, Em! It’s Mexico.”

Nesta finished gathering her stuff, tuning out her friends joking with one another as she neatly repacked her beach bag and put on her beach slides. The three of them made their way down to the beach, sand warm under their feet and the smell of the ocean beckoning them closer as they found the people in charge of the parasailing.  

Emerie quickly stepped in to handle everything, her first language coming in handy just as it had for all the previous days of their trip. As she was talking with the employees, another group stepped into line behind them, but Nesta wasn’t paying too much attention. She was more focused on the way Emerie seemed to be getting more and more insistent, and Nesta didn’t need to understand Spanish to know that that wasn’t exactly the best sign.

Emerie turned to Nesta and Gwyn sheepishly after a few more minutes of conversation. “Uh… she’s saying the parasail only fits two people at once. Not three.”

“You’re kidding,” Gwyn replied, pouting. “I thought the guy at the hotel said we could do three people!”

“Apparently he was wrong,” Emerie said back with a heavy sigh. “So one of us is going to have to go alone, or not at all.” 

“I don’t mind not going,” Nesta responded before either of her friends could get a chance to. “I know how much you two like this kind of stuff.”

“Nesta, I don’t want to do that to you,” Gwyn protested immediately.

“We can find something else to do for all three of us,” Emerie chimed in at nearly the same time.

“No, seriously, it’s okay,” Nesta insisted. She loved her friends, but she also wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to be flying through the air alone. “I’m sure you already paid, so I can just go read by the pool. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Nesta, are you sure?” Gwyn asked. “Because we can just find a different activity to do. I have no problems going back inside and getting our money back.”

Before Nesta could firmly tell Gwyn that it was absolutely not a problem, someone chimed in from behind them. “Not to be totally creepy, but… maybe we can help each other out here?”

Nesta turned to see the group she hadn’t been paying attention to earlier was actually made up of the blonde woman and the brooding guy trailing along behind her that Emerie and Gwyn had been debating about earlier. What they hadn’t mentioned was the third member of their group, who had to have been one of the most attractive men Nesta had ever seen in her life. He was tall, with dark swirls of ink curling across his chest and upper arms, and his eyes were a pretty hazel color that made her want to step closer to figure out what color they really were.

“What?” Nesta said dumbly, her brain still catching up somewhat. Emerie snorted from somewhere behind her, but Nesta’s mind was too busy going !!! to fully process that.

“I’m too big to fit on a parasail with my friends anyway,” Hot Beach Guy continued. He motioned to himself with a bit of a self-deprecating grin, and Nesta had to make sure her mouth hadn’t dropped open at the sight of his thighs in his bright red swim trunks. “So if you need someone to go with, I’m your guy.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Gwyn cut in before Nesta could say something embarrassing. Not that she necessarily appreciated Gwyn making the decision for her, but at least it saved her countless sleepless nights replaying this interaction. “Nesta would love to.”

“Nesta, huh?” Hot Beach Guy said, grinning at Nesta. God, she wanted to lick her name right out of his mouth, but she needed to pull it the fuck together. Immediately. “I sure hope you can speak for yourself before we get strapped in together.”

“Of course I can speak for myself,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. He was hot, but not so hot that she was rendered completely incapable of speech. “I don’t know if I want to be strapped in with a stranger.”

“I’m Cassian,” Cassian said, pointing to himself before moving onto his friends. “That’s Mor, and that’s Azriel. Stranger danger solved.”

“I wouldn’t mind a little stranger danger myself,” Emerie said under her breath. Gwyn giggled quietly, but the way Mor was staring Emerie down, Nesta didn’t think danger was going to be any sort of problem tonight. Maybe figuring out their sleeping arrangements, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it.

“So, Nes,” Cassian continued with a waggle of his eyebrows. One of them had a scar cutting through it, and it was unfair just how much hotter it made him. “What do you say? Do you trust me?”

“You’re no Aladdin,” Nesta replied, cocking an eyebrow of her own, “but I guess you’ll do.”

Cassian laughed, and that was that. Emerie and Gwyn stayed together, as did Azriel and Mor, but somehow Nesta and Cassian ended up being the first to go on the parasail. Judging from Gwyn and Emerie’s knowing smiles, it was probably half so she wouldn’t back out at the last minute and half so they could enjoy watching Cassian shamelessly flirt with her the entire time.

Not that Nesta completely minded that last part.

Shameless flirting aside, Cassian was more than helpful in getting Nesta to the right part of the boat. Before she knew it, they were getting strapped in as the employees gave them all the standard warnings about keeping their limbs where they were supposed to. Nesta swallowed thickly, the reality of what she was doing sinking in a little bit as the employees finished doing their last rounds of safety checks. It was probably too late to back out, but it would also probably be fine. Right?

“It’ll be fine,” Cassian said suddenly, as if he’d plucked the though right out of her mind. Nesta whipped her head to the side to find him already looking at her; the way his gaze was too knowing made her want to look away, but she fought the urge to hide. His eyes were much greener up close than she’d thought. “I’ll protect you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. 

“I’m pretty strong,” he replied, chuckling. “I think I could handle it.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” she told him, surprised when he just laughed again. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. “Something about a beautiful woman knocking me down a peg or two really gets me going.”

Nesta was saved from having to reply when the employees started counting down, and suddenly, the boat started speeding up. It felt like hardly any time at all before the parachute started filling up with air, and suddenly Nesta and Cassian’s feet were leaving the ground. Nesta released an undignified squeak that she would absolutely refuse having made if anyone asked her, her feet flailing a little bit as the ground disappeared from underneath them, and her hand shot out of its own accord to grab Cassian’s seemingly already waiting one.

“Let’s go!” Cassian yelled, clearly having the time of his life. He whooped loudly, the sound yanking Nesta out of her head just enough for her to refocus, and she blinked a few times before turning to look at him. “This is awesome!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Nesta yelled back over the sound of the wind. “What the hell! This is insane!”

“It’s just like flying,” Cassian answered, still speaking pretty loudly so they could hear each other. Nesta couldn’t help but think to herself that if this was what flying was like, she didn’t know if she wanted any parts of it ever again, but it was a fun thought.“Look how pretty the ocean is!”

She dared to look down beneath their dangling feet, her mouth falling open a little bit at how blue the water was. She hadn’t seen water this blue in a long time, other than from looking out of plane windows, but he was right – it was pretty, and even though her stomach felt a few seconds away from dropping out, she was glad that she’d gotten to see it.

“Told you so!” Cassian told her once Nesta had looked back up. He shifted his hand underneath hers so their fingers were lined up better, and it sent a little zing right up Nesta’s spine. His hands were larger than hers and much, much, warmer, and damn if it didn’t help settle something in her that she didn’t know she needed.

“Don’t get used to it!” Nesta shouted back, wishing she could’ve heard his answering laugh over the wind. 

Cassian spent the rest of the ride cheering and pointing things out for Nesta to look at, which she deeply appreciated despite half the time being a little too nervous to look away from their hands to see what he was talking about. He didn’t seem to be deterred at all; if anything, the only time he got a little deflated was when they felt a tug on the parasail as the rope started turning and bringing them back down to the boat.

Once they’d gotten unhooked from their safety harnesses and had moved back inside the boat, Cassian leaned against the nearest wall and looked down at Nesta with a playful grin. “So for our second date, do you want to do something on the ground, or…?”

“What made you think that was a first date?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms as she looked up at him.

“Holding my hand the entire time was a pretty clear sign, if you ask me,” he replied without missing a beat. 

“If that’s enough to make something a date for you, I’d hate to see what you do after a real one,” she retorted dryly, pulling a laugh from him. 

“I’d love to give you a hands-on demonstration,” he answered, still grinning. “Maybe tonight? Around 8?”

Nesta made a big show of sizing him up, from his wind-tousled curls all the way down to his surprisingly nice feet and back up again. She already knew what her answer was going to be, but she found that she thoroughly enjoyed making him squirm. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Lucky for Cassian, he didn’t.

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