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#i have been sitting at my desk for like 20 minutes without being able to do anything
mcrbrainrot · 2 years
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Guys
maybe i DO have ADHD
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amomentsescape · 5 months
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I love your writing! Could I possibly get a Slasher X reader. One of the Reader ending up in the hospital for whatever reason. It could be over sickness or getting injured/hunt.
Slashers React to Reader Ending Up in the Hospital
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Warnings: Mentions of injury, illness, and killings
A/N: Thank you so much! Some of the Slashers were written outside of the hospital setting since I don't think all of them would be comfortable stepping out into public. I hope you still enjoy though!
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Freddy Krueger
Freddy decided to pay you a visit in the real world when he hadn't heard from you in a few days
It wasn't like you to not say anything, and he was starting to get worried
But when he checked into your bedroom and found you nowhere in sight, he quite literally freaked out
(He may have visited some of your friends that night and threatened them to find out where you were)
When he finally found you in the hospital, he was even more worried
You could barely talk and your eyes were horribly bloodshot
It was only when you began coughing did he realize what was going on
"I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than 20 minutes without coughing" you hoarsely whispered to him
Despite wanting to take you back home with him, he knew better
He wasn't exactly a doctor, and he cared more about you getting better than you visiting him
So he let you be
He did help you with falling asleep though
And he visited you every night until you got better
He killed a couple nurses that he stated weren't taking care of you well enough though
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Michael Myers
Yeah, he's pissed
He comes home, and you're not there?
Livid
Mostly at the idea that something happened to you, but he won't admit that the idea of you leaving him may have crossed his mind a couple times
But when he finds a note stating you were going to get yourself checked out at the hospital, he immediately heads out without a second thought
You have no idea how, but he sneaks in without anyone noticing him?
He immediately rips the blanket off of you and scans your body, trying to pinpoint what is wrong
It's only when he sees your bandaged leg that he meets your eyes
"I was trying to clean your knife, and it slipped..." you said like a kid about to be scolded
He shook his head at you and then lifted you into his arms, carrying you out of the room
While walking out, you happen to notice several dead bodies laying on the ground, blood pooling around them
Ah, so that's how he got in
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Jason Voorhees
It was after the 5th night of not being able to breathe fully that you gave in, deciding to go to the hospital
You told Jason it would be super quick, but after a few hours, you still hadn't returned
Instead of just waiting a little longer like a normal person, Jason assumed that something terrible had happened and decided to make a public appearance
(Something he doesn't do often)
He headed into town and located the nearest hospital
Luckily, it was late by now, and the hospital wasn't quite as busy as normal
When he stepped inside, he just slammed down a piece of paper with your name on it, the front desk worker frantically typing in the computer
With how Jason looked and the size of his machete in tow, nobody even bothered to question him
When he was finally pointed to your room, he immediately picked you up and walked back out with you
After finding your doctor and making them give him your prescriptions, he was off to take you back home with him
He wouldn't dare spend even a single night without you
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Thomas Hewitt
With the amount of meat hooks, knives, and scrapped bones around, it was a surprise you hadn't gotten into an accident sooner
You were a pretty clumsy person in general, so when you stumbled over a little dip in the tile floor of the kitchen, you instinctively reached your hand out to stop yourself
You managed to not hit the ground, but you sacrificed the palm of your hand in the process
A large butcher's knife was sitting on the counter, and it had sliced right into your skin
Thomas was rushing to your side in a hurry, frantically smooshing towels onto your wound to stop the bleeding
Despite his protests, you insisted on going to get looked at in the hospital
You were certain your hand was going to need stitches
While you were out, he just sat on the couch the whole time, staring at the wall
You promised to be back later, and so he trusted you
But there was no way he was going to be productive with you gone
Once were finally back, Thomas was quick to give you princess treatment
He makes you lay in bed while he brings you food, treats, and cuddles
He'll be watching you like a hawk for the weeks to come, that's for sure
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Bubba Sawyer
Bubba was quite literally hanging onto your ankles as you tried to make your way through the door
He was blubbering like crazy
But this stomach flu you've been dealing with was making you miserable
You needed some type of medicine to sort yourself out, although Bubba disagreed
You told him you'd be back soon before giving one last shake and running out the door, leaving Bubba whining after you
He was yelling at basically everything and everyone, frantically storming around the house until you came back
He knew he wouldn't be able to go with you, but he hated you going anywhere by yourself
He was only calm again when you walked back through the door a couple hours later, some weird looking pills in hand
He'd be all over you after that, refusing to even let you go to the bathroom by yourself
And unfortunately for him, this attachment to you resulted in him waking up with the same stomach pains you had just a day later
At least you still had some medicine left, right?
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Brahms Heelshire
So there's no way in hell Brahms would ever let you go to the hospital
When you accidentally tripped on the stairs, knocking yourself unconscious during the fall, Brahms was going through a mental breakdown
He didn't know how to help you
And despite all the shaking and slaps he could muster, nothing would wake you up
He finally gave up and decided to call 911
When the ambulance showed up, they were met with a grisly surprise
One of the medics was immediately killed upon entry, and the other was held at knife point, forced to call back and say everything was fine
Brahms then forced them to help you, watching their every move
It was only once your eyes fluttered open that his body relaxed
He quickly disposed of the other medic, immediately tending to you
But don't worry, Brahms would deal with the bodies and the ambulance later
He did it for you after all
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Norman Bates
It was actually Norman's idea for you to go to the hospital in the first place
It wasn't like you to be dealing with a cold for this long, and he was beginning to get worried
He happily drove you there, patiently sitting in the waiting room as the doctor took you back to check you out
With a couple prescriptions (and a hefty payment) later, you were back at home with him, relaxing in bed
Norman made sure you always had some tea to drink and soup to eat throughout the night
He even ran the bath for you in hopes of opening your sinuses
He just seems like a normal, doting partner
But if the medicine doesn't seem to help soon, Norman supposes he may need to pay the doctor another visit...
Just to talk things over, of course
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Billy Loomis
It's just a little cut, why do you need to go to the hospital?
You shouldn't have been playing with his knife in general
He told you it was dangerous
But he can take care of you himself, he's sure of it
But when he finds you gone just a few minutes later, he immediately becomes tense
Great
With a loud sigh and a few curse words later, Billy is out the door and driving after you
When he makes it to the hospital, he just storms inside
He ignores all the calls from staff to "come back" and to "not go in there"
He finds you talking with the doctor, a look of shock on your face
(You're not exactly sure how he knew which room you were in)
"Are we done here?" Billy grumbles
"You shouldn't be back here"
Billy rolls his eyes at the doctor
"Does it look like I give a shit?"
And with that he, grabs your hand and walks you out, being mindful of your bandaged arm
You're still not sure how you haven't received a bill from the hospital yet
In fact, you haven't heard back from the doctor at all in the past few days
Huh, weird
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Stu Macher
Nothing about Stu is calm... ever
So the moment he realizes you aren't home at your normal time, he flips
Probably tries to call and text you numerous times
He even calls Billy who's like "how am I supposed to know??"
When you finally send a text back saying that you went to the doctor's, he quickly responds back saying he's coming to get you
He storms into the hospital like he owns the place, immediately asking the staff where you were
If any of them refuse, he gives them a wicked smile that makes them all uncomfortable
They give in quickly
Stu suddenly barges into your room asking "what's wrong" and "who hurt you?"
You almost laugh at his worry since all that happened was you falling due to being clumsy
He just sighs and shakes his head
"You should have called me"
Once you're all ready to go, he just walks out with you with your arm wrapped in his
He says goodbye to all the staff like nothing ever happened, but they all look a bit fearful
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Eric Draven
After fighting with the flu for a good week, Eric decides he should take you to get checked out
Despite your protests, he insists he needs to take you and stay with you (just to make sure they hear you out and give you what you need)
Eric wouldn't hurt or threaten any of the hospital staff, but his presence alone is enough to make them feel intimidated
You're practically in and out within just 20 minutes
"That wasn't so bad, right?" he teased
You just give him a little shove
He pretty much dotes on you for the time being until you get better
Unlike most of the Slashers, Eric has no issues with you going to the occasional doctor's visit
He cares a great deal about your health and always wants what's best for you
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mellifiedprincess · 1 year
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anotha one😝 this fic is pure crack honestly, it’s not my best work and i was sleep deprived and wrote this in like 20 minutes, soooo keep that in mind. i also imagined the reader being super short in this, because i may have a wee bit of a size kink (don’t tell anyone🤭) but like how cute would ethan look with a partner that’s like 4’11 compared to his 6’1 ass. AGHHH I CANT
Ethan Landry x Reader
Nap time
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Everyone who knew you, knew that there was only one thing in this world that could rival your love for Ethan. And that was napping. You couldn’t help that you were a sleepy girl. You were lucky enough too, that you could nap anywhere. Whether it be your head resting on a hard countertop, the lap of one of your friends, you were even found asleep on the stairs in your parents home once.
Unfortunately though, as of lately, you haven’t been able to sleep that well. And you knew exactly what the cause of this was from, well more of WHO the cause of this was from. Ethan fucking Landry. The boy with the loveliest doe eyes, the boy with the sweetest smile, the boy that stole your heart all those months ago and has told you he was never giving it back.
But he didn’t just steal your heart, no, he stole your ability of napping anywhere your little heart desired.
You couldn’t nap without him anymore.
Of course it wasn’t all his fault, you were the one to snuggle up to him, thinking you were only going to ‘rest’ your eyes for a few seconds. Those few seconds turned into two hours. You couldn’t help it. He was just so warm and smelled so good. It certainly didn’t help that he was running his fingers through your hair while softly humming in your ear. Anyone would have fallen under his spell and drifted off in minutes, if they had been in the position you were in. At least that’s what yoy keep telling yourself.
You had also, by now, convinced yourself he did all of it on purpose.
Which is why you’ve been glaring at him for the past seven minutes. You were sleepy, and all you wanted was to lay your sweet little head down and take a nap. But when your head hits the soft pillow on Ethan’s bed, you find yourself not able to fall asleep. You knew in your head all you needed to do was ask Ethan to come lay down with you, and he would. He would do absolutely anything you asked of him. But you were furious with him. Furious that his conspiracy against you has worked.
“Baby, we’ve talked about how you have to tell me when I’ve upset you, otherwise I won’t know how to fix it.” He wasn’t even looking at you, he had his back towards you while he worked at his desk. “I can quite literally feel the heat from your eyes, angel.” “Well my eyes would be closed and I would be fast asleep, taking my much needed nap if you wouldn’t have ruined them for me.” You grumble out, arms crossed, brows furrowed, adorable pout present.
He drops his pencil at that, confusion wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Ethan felt. “How did I ruin your nap?” His voice raises an octave higher out of disbelief, and he finally turns to look at you. “I’ve been quiet this whole time and you have quite literally fallen asleep at frat parties before, where it was much more chaotic. I had to nearly tackle someone to stop them from sitting on you.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what you did!” You yell as you jump up, standing on Ethan’s bed and pointing an accusing finger at him. His brown eyes widen, not sure if you’re just having one of your ‘moments’ as he likes to call them, or if you’ve actually lost your mind. “I don’t though, that’s why I asked you to tell me.” At his remark, you ball your fists up, throwing them down at your side, all while making the cutest grumbling sound.
Ethan stands from his chair, coming to stand in front of you at his bed. Since you’re standing on his bed, you’re looking down at him. His hands grab yours, unballing your “threatening” fists, and he’s pleading with his eyes. “Tell me what I did so I can make up for it.” After a few seconds you throw your head back with a loud groan, before dramatically falling forward to be caught by Ethan, wrapping your arms and legs around him completely. “I can’t nap without you.” You all but cry out, still holding a menacing stare as your forehead touches his.
He laughs. He laughs right in your face. “Stop laughing at me!” You push his face away from yours, squirming in his arms trying but failing to get away from him. “Awe, I’m sorry baby. What can I do to help?” To anyone else, he would sound patronizing, but you knew he genuinely was sorry and wanted to make you feel better.
“Don’t you need to finish your homework?” Your eyes glance over at the anatomy worksheet, and then back to Ethan. “Yeah, well I think my baby needs me more. So, I’m not worried about that right now.” You grin at his words, placing a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away pretending to look deep in thought. He already knows what you need, he also knows you’re just too scared to ask. All because you got in your own head about how dependent you’ve become of him. He loved it. He loved that you needed him just for the smallest of things like taking a nap.
“Do you want me to lay down with you while you nap? I’ll even hold your hand the entire time, if you want.” You giggle at that, already feeling much more relaxed. “What if I want to wrap myself around you like a koala? Would you let me do that?”
“You’re already the size of one, so why not?”
“Ethan!”
You’re pouting again, and he could only smile because you were just too fucking cute. “Okay! Okay! I’m done.” He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, and grabs your chin, placing a few kisses to your pouted lips.
“Can we lay down now? You’ve been standing here holding me for like 10 minutes now, your arms have to hurt by now.”
“Baby.” He says with disbelief. “I’ve held you for way longer than 10 minutes, while we were doing something a lot more physically demanding.” Your cheeks immediately flush red at his words. Hiding your face in his neck. “Don’t get all shy on me now. You were just yelling at me 10 minutes ago about ruining your naps.” He couldn’t help but tease you, it was just too easy.
“Ethan, stop it.” You mumble out. He laughs again, but finally moves to sit you back down on his bed. You climb to the top, and wait for Ethan to join you. He goes to slip under the blanket with you, but you stop him. “No! You have to take your clothes off!” He holds his hands out in front of him, in a defensive manner. “Someone’s not so shy now. You need me to tire you out or something?”
You roll your eyes at your dumb boyfriend, and watch as he removes his tshirt and jeans. “I meant so I could sleep on you more comfortably, you perv!” “You’re calling me a perv, after asking me to strip and defile you?”
You open and close your mouth “I didn’t ask-“ You stop, exhaling sharply through your nose. “Please, E, just get in the damn bed.” “I’m coming, jeez!” Finally, he lays down beside you, and before you could move, he turns and wraps his arms around your body, an innocent grin on his pretty lips. And you can already feel your eyes grow heavy, as his fingers begin to trail up and down your spine and he presses soft kisses to your temple.
“Get some rest, sweet girl, because I will be defiling you when you wake up.” His tone is light and playful.
“Ethannn, can you stop being such a horny teenage boy for two seconds?” Your tone is annoyed. “Yeah, as long as you’re around, that’s not happening.”
“You’re such a whore.” Ethan laughs at your remark, squeezing you even closer, if possible, to his body. He’s finally quiet after that, besides the soft humming coming from his lips.
And he would never admit this to you, but he was having trouble sleeping without you by his side too. He loved the weight of you on his chest, the way your hair smelled. He especially loved when you would take his hand in yours, all while still sleeping, and hold it to your chest. You would hold it so tight sometimes he would lose feeling in his fingers.
He didn’t care though. Because he loved you and all of those things produced a warm, comfortable feeling he never received as a child.
So, he would lay there for hours, and watch the rise and fall of your chest, and listen to the soft snores leave your mouth. All without a single complaint.
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This Christmas
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Pairing: Benny "Borracho" Magalon x Reader
Word Count: 4,755
Summary: Benny tries to create a Christmas Eve for you during a hard time in your life.
Warnings: Kind of fluffy, but talk of grief, guilt, parental loss. Some foul language. If I missed anything else let me know and I'll add it in.
A/N: This is the first fic I've finished in over 20+ years so...it's probably mediocre at best. A lot has changed in how fics were written in late 90s and I'm still trying to grasp that. Fair warning: I am not a good writer unless it's an email. Apologies in advance if my inability to understand sentence structure is obvious and if there are any typos.
I love stupid lifetime and hallmark Christmas movies, so there are probably hints of that in this. I chose Benny because he had like 4 lines in Den of Thieves and he seemed easy to work with. The story has some personal meaning to me, so if you hate it just keep it to yourself lol
I also want to give a shout out to @mariamariquinha @the-hinky-panda @cheesybadgers @mysoulisasunflower and @bullet-prooflove for the encouragement and kind words when I posted about my hesitation in sharing this.
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The guys are sitting in their chairs, staring at Benny like he has three heads. He’d just spent the last 20 minutes explaining why he needs their help in a few days; on Christmas Eve. He wouldn’t be embarrassing himself like some love struck fool if he had any other choice.
“This is sick, Borracho. Really sick.” Zapata shakes his head as he breaks the silence.
“Didn’t realize you were so fucking romantic.” Henderson joins in.
Big Nick slaps his hand on Benny’s back as he passes him to go back to his office, “Count me out, shithead.” 
Benny groans and hangs head. He really should have just figured out a way to do this himself. Now he’ll never hear the end of it from these miserable fucks. And calling him a “romantic;" these idiots wouldn’t know romance if it punched them in their faces. It’s not even like he’s that romantic. They’re acting like it’s a crime to be thoughtful. 
He can’t help it if being a good detective makes him more attentive, more considerate in relationships. He’s always finding himself filing away little things that you mention–or don’t mention. He has a collection of these in his mind, some even from before you started dating. And now he wants to use all these bits and pieces of information to try to create the perfect Christmas Eve for you. Christmas Eve because he knows you love it more than the actual day itself. But the guys' blank stares and biting little remarks are not inspiring confidence. Benny runs his hands over his face and rolls his chair closer to the desk.
“Forget I said anything.”
“Look at this sad, sack of shit.” Connors is laughing and throws a paper clip at Benny. “You’re going to owe us big time, you know that right?”
Benny breathes a sigh of relief. The guys are definitely going to haunt him with this for as long as he lives, but it will be worth it.
“I know.”
—-
This is Benny’s first real Christmas with you. Although he secretly counts the morning of the previous Christmas Eve when he stopped by your donut shop Glazy For You. He wasn’t working and had no reason to be in the neighborhood. But he wanted to see you without all the other guys there. If they were all there, he wouldn’t have been able to work up the nerve to ask you out. They’d harass both of you to no end. When he stood in front of your counter and asked, he’ll never forget how you laughed. You questioned him if it was a ploy for a group of cops to get free donuts. Then you were quiet for a moment and he almost started talking to fill the silence. But then he heard you say yeah okay and it was like he had been struck by lightning. You wrote your number down on a business card and handed it to him. Benny struggled to play it cool while he was leaving only to break down and text immediately from his car. He thought if he waited even one second longer you’d change your mind. 
The first date was the week between Christmas and the New Year. That week is like a brief interlude in your life where anything can happen. Benny remembers that he must have been on that night because you stared intently whenever he spoke. He also remembers how beautiful you looked when you were talking about your work. The way you lit up when talking about Maple Bars made him laugh. He’d never met someone so in love with one type of donut. He could swear at one point when you were talking about them he saw your eyes actually sparkle. There was a familiarity throughout the date that made Benny feel immediately comfortable. The first date turned into a second date, and then a third. At some point when he was loading the dishwasher at your house, he realized he had stopped counting.
You both tried to keep the relationship quiet whenever the guys had stopped by to cure their hangovers with donuts and coffee. He knows how obnoxious they can be and he didn’t want them ruining anything. Ultimately, Benny ruins it for himself when he breaks the cardinal rule of never smiling while texting. When Connors had grabbed his phone and started showing how he has your contact name as Maple Bar—he knew there was no chance of keeping you to himself anymore.
Benny was right, of course. The next time they went, they practically dragged him in while shouting “Maple Bar” at you. You laughed as your face turned red, trying to play it off, but the secret was out. After the novelty of the relationship wore off for the guys, they started calling you “Benny’s girl”. Whenever he heard, he felt like the pit of his stomach was going to drop out. Things between you and the guys stayed largely the same—you joked around with them before and you joke around with them now. The only thing that’s different is Benny feels protective of you even though he knows you’re fine. That was another thing he filed away—that you were the first woman to actually appreciate his bond with the guys. You know they have his back and that’s what’s important to you. It’s just one of the reasons Benny’s love for you grows.
—-
Near the end of the summer your dad passed away suddenly. Benny was at work, but when he got your text, he called you asking where you were. He knew your family dynamics were difficult and he didn’t want you to be alone. He thinks maybe a different sort of man would have been scared by the rawness of the situation. That it would have been too much, too soon. But Benny doesn’t scare easily, so he sat with you on the floor, in the kitchen of your closed shop. He kept you close to him while you cried and listened as you told him how you felt stupid for crying because your relationship with your dad wasn’t the best. His chest tightened when you told him you felt like you didn’t deserve to feel sad. That sadness was reserved for a relationship that had been whole. Benny anchored you to him, afraid that if he let go, you might drift away.
Benny knows you tried to hide being sad after that. You sneak off to the bathroom to cry periodically and one time he follows you. Benny knows about stuffing feelings down—it’s part of his job—but he doesn’t want you doing the same. He gets you talking, you tell him you have this guilt for not attending the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to be in a room with his wife of only a few years making everything about herself. Especially after she wouldn’t let you come to their house to look through his things. He didn’t judge you for making that decision; he knows what it’s like to have to make choices not knowing if you are making the right one. Still, Benny’s heart would break when you would  refer to yourself as a horrible person, a horrible daughter. He knows he wasn’t a witness to many things in your life, but he also knows you’re not a bad person. He’s seen how you always step up to help people—giving your money or your time. You even kept Connors fed while he was on leave due to an injury. You give to others what you seem unable to give to yourself and it makes Benny’s heart ache
You seem okay until Thanksgiving with his parents. It was your first time meeting his family and in Benny’s eyes, it was a success. His parents loved you right away. His mom loved the extra help in the kitchen. His sister delighted in telling you the secrets of his childhood. His dad was impressed you owned your own business. But as you both sat in the car outside the house you broke down crying. You kept apologizing while telling him how wonderful his family is; how being around them reminded you that you’d never have another holiday with your dad. You explained how Christmas was his favorite holiday. That he would spend hours stringing up lights around the house before making spritz cookies with you. You took some shallow breaths trying to calm yourself down before listing all the Christmas Eve traditions your family had. That those memories somehow always eclipse the shittier parts of your childhood. Benny held your hand while you spoke. He knows what it’s like to lose people, in his line of work it’s inevitable. But he doesn’t know what it’s like to lose a parent so he stays quiet. When Benny feels you squeeze his hand it sparks something in him. He suddenly becomes very determined to make this Christmas Eve perfect for you.
—-
When December 24th finally arrives, Benny feels as excited as he did when he was a kid. He knew you would be working which gives him time to decorate your house. The only person that backs out from helping is Big Nick—but he never actually agreed so Benny can’t really hold it against him. He puts Connors and Henderson on Christmas lights duty. Benny takes the inside, he knows the guys well enough to not trust them to go through your things. 
Benny finds all of your Christmas decorations and another string of lights in the hallways closet. When he’s grabbing a box labeled ornaments off the shelf a box, wrapped in silver and red striped paper falls to the floor. When he picks it up to place it back on the shelf he catches a glimpse of the white tag on it—To: Benny. He can’t help but smile when he closes the door. 
While he is untangling the lights, Zapata comes in with a tree. Benny looks at it and laughs. It’s so sparse and wide he can see through it. 
“It’s the only one they had.” He shrugs as he props it up against the wall. 
Benny touches one of the branches. “It is a tree, so I guess you did what I asked.”
Zapata shakes his head. “Man, this is a crazy, fucking thing you’re doing.” 
Benny smiles to himself thinking that love will make you do crazy, fucking things.
“I know.”
Zapata leaves and he can hear him shouting up to Connors and Henderson on the roof. Benny can hear them talking about him using their standard terms of endearment: dickless, crazy asshole, and idiot. Benny doesn’t care, because Benny has you. 
It only takes a handful of hours for the guys to put the lights up outside and for Benny to finish decorating inside. The tree doesn’t look as bad once he wraps some lights around it and puts your ornaments up. He’s charmed by the fact you kept all these ornaments from when you were a kid–one for every year until you turned 18. He got some frosted glass spray and tries his best to make your windows look wintery. Finally, Benny wraps your gift in some plaid wrapping paper he found. He surprises himself by the fact that it doesn’t look like complete garbage.
—-
Your car is conveniently having its brakes repaired so Benny told you he would pick you up once you closed for the evening. You’d come back to his place for dinner and a movie and then call it a night. But Benny is sending Connors to pick you up instead. Benny is going to need the extra time to do something he hasn’t done since he was a kid—make cookies.
There’s a reason why Benny hasn’t made cookies in decades. He’s lost when it comes to anything more than standard kitchen fare. Spaghetti, grilling, he can do that just fine. But baking might as well be nuclear science. He’s grateful your kitchen is 90% baking supplies, it saves him from having to fumble around a store looking for all of it.
You have so many recipe books he doesn’t know where to begin. He tries looking through them, but gives up and resorts to googling one on his phone. He thinks maybe it’s cheating to look up the recipe online, but how many variants of this could there be? Somewhere between the 1st and 10th recipe he looks at he finally notices the jump to recipe feature; saving him from the life stories of food bloggers. He settles on one that has minimal backstory, thinking that means it’s an easier.
By the time Benny is done he has what seems like 10 dozen cookies and has made a mess of your entire kitchen. He doesn’t know how he used almost every single dish you have to make one kind of cookie. He tries one of them and he can’t tell if they are supposed to taste like that or if he fucked something up. For Benny, the most pathetic part of the whole thing was that he had to call his mother. A grown, adult man Face Timing his mother because he couldn’t figure out how to work a cookie press. He didn’t realize it would be more complicated than cleaning a gun. He knows he’ll never live this down.
—-
You’re waiting outside of your shop for Benny when you see Connors’ car pull up. Your stomach tightens automatically when you see him step out of the car. Your mind goes to the worst, that something’s happened to Benny.
“Hey Murph, is everything okay?” 
“Borracho got called into work. Asked me to take you home.” 
Once you know Benny is okay your mind goes to how much you hate his nickname. It’s so totally unrepresentative of the man you know.
“Oh, he should have texted. I could have just taken an Uber or something.” 
“You can pay me if it makes you feel better.” 
You laugh as you double check the lock on your security gate. 
“I know how you drive. If you get me home in one piece, then we can discuss your fee.” 
As you get in the car you can hear Connors go on and on about how excellent of a driver he is. You roll your eyes as you put your seatbelt on. 
You’re thankful for the mostly quiet car ride to your house. Connors fills you in on why Benny had to go into work. For whatever reason he seems to be laying it on a little thick—a string of toy store robberies makes it sound like he just watched Home Alone 2. At any moment you feel like he is going to mention a woman covered in pigeons. You don’t think you’ve ever said ‘uh huh’ so much in your life. 
On the drive you see so many houses lit up with Christmas lights and decorations in yards that it starts to make you sad. Sad that you didn’t even get a tree. Sad that you won’t be able to spend your first real Christmas together, together. The Christmas Eve when he asked you out probably only counts in your mind. It still feels strange—the fact that he asked you out. From the first time he came in you developed a little crush. Initially, you didn’t know he was a cop. If you had, it might have stifled your growing crush a bit. You liked that he stood out in that pack of loud voices by not being one. The first time he spoke to you, you wondered how a man with a neck tattoo could have a voice as soft as his. And he was so handsome on that first date in his dark green flannel. You loved the gray speckled in his facial hair; it gave you the impression he was a serious kind of guy, not prone to playing games.
You sigh loud enough that Connors gives you a weird look and you try to pretend like it was yawn. You look back out to the houses and think maybe being alone tonight is better. You’ve been a real fucking downer lately and why ruin a perfectly good Christmas Eve for someone else.
—-
Connors stops at the bottom of a driveway belonging to a house that’s not yours. It looks like your house—a small, one-story, dark blue house with white trim, a small porch, and a window looking out to the street. But you know your house does not have Christmas lights. And this house masquerading as yours, is all lit up.
“This is not my house.”
“Yeah it is.” Connors points and you see Benny standing on the porch, illuminated by the lights. 
“You’re such an asshole.” You blink back the tears that are on the edge of falling. 
He laughs, “Yeah, I know.” 
You thank Connors before getting out of the car. You have a feeling he did more than just give you a ride home. When you step out of his car and close the door behind you, you stand for a moment staring at your house. You don’t think you've ever seen it look so beautiful. It looks like a painting with Benny standing there looking so beautiful too in his dark green flannel buttoned all the way to the top. 
“I knew something was up when Murph was reciting the plot to Home Alone 2 as your work emergency.” 
You give a sly smile as you walk up your porch steps. You can hear Connors’ car idling until Benny waves and he drives off.
“I knew I should’ve had Henderson pick you up.” 
You kiss Benny lightly and wrap your arms around his neck. 
“If I’d known you were breaking out the formal flannel, I would have dressed up.” 
Benny laughs as he takes one of your hands in his. He looks at you in your sugar and icing stained t-shirt and jeans. You look so pretty standing there he almost says what he’s been holding in for months, but stops himself.
“You look perfect.”
Benny squeezes your hand as he brings you into the house. 
—-
You’re overwhelmed when you see everything. You see the tree decorated with your ornaments. It’s so breathtaking, better than any tree you’ve ever seen in your life. But you know that even if it was just a branch tacked to your wall you’d feel the same way. Before you can turn around to tell Benny how much you love it, he’s next to you.
“It’s a little sparse, I know.“ 
You look at him looking at the tree.
“Benny,” you stop to choke down the sob that’s building in your throat, “it’s wonderful. This tree is perfect. It’s all perfect.” 
And everything is. The garland he’s hung around your house. The haphazard fake frostiness added to the windows. The cinnamon scented candles he’s lit all around your living room. It’s like being in a snow globe after everything has settled.
“A lot of sap in here! Looks great. A little full. A lot of sap.”
You didn’t even catch that the television was on, but when you hear it, you know exactly what it is. You turn around and see that Benny has Christmas Vacation playing. That’s the thing that finally pushes you over the edge. This movie that you watched every Christmas Eve since you can remember. The movie that perfectly encapsulates what Christmas meant to you as a kid. The sadness you’ve been feeling and now suddenly the joy you’re experiencing because of Benny finally all bubbles to the surface.
You bury your face in his neck and start to cry for everything that you know you’ll miss but also for what you have right now. His body acts as a solid mass you can lock yourself to. Benny is kissing the top of your head and you’d be embarrassed if it was anyone else witnessing this. But with Benny you know he won’t judge you. He will give you exactly what you need, even when you don’t know you need it.
You pull back and look at him. He cups your face in his hands and brushes the tears from your face with his thumb.
“I miss him, Benny.” 
“You’re allowed to miss him.” 
When Benny says it, you feel like a weight has been lifted off of you. The weight of the self-inflicted punishment for mourning something that wasn’t perfect. You take a step back from him and look around the room again. You want to remember this moment as it is.
“This means everything to me. I hope you know that.”
“I have something else. Stay here.” 
Benny can feel his heart vibrating in his chest as he goes to the kitchen to grab a plate of cookies. He holds it behind his back until he’s in front of you. When you look down at the plate he sees you smile as you grab a wreath shaped cookie off the plate.
“You made these?”
Before he can answer you, you take a bite. He can see your face changing from excitement to what can only be described as delighted horror. Benny’s chest tightens knowing he messed something up.
“Uh….what’s wrong?”
“I think you mixed up the salt and sugar measurements.”
You see Benny’s face fall and you feel so bad that you finish the cookie in your hand and grab another one.
“Don’t eat it!” 
He quickly knocks the cookie out of your hand. You grab another one and he does the same thing. He drops the plate on the floor and it’s all so magically bizarre that you start laughing and can’t stop. You try to say something but you end up in a fit of giggles that makes Benny start laughing. 
“It’s happened to me before. Don’t worry about it.” You manage to wheeze the words out as you wipe the tears–happy tears–from your eyes.
Benny gets serious for a moment, “I just wanted this whole night to be perfect.”
You step over the pile of cookies on the floor and kiss him gently on the lips. He rests his hand on your low back and sighs into you. 
You whisper against his lips, “I can’t imagine anything more perfect than what you’ve done for me.”
Benny rests his forehead against yours, “I have one more thing for you. I didn’t bake it, so don’t worry.”
You smile, “I have something for you too.” 
You break out of his hold and go to the hallway closet. Benny crouches down and gathers the cookies that dropped on the floor back onto the plate. He can’t believe he used so much salt and didn’t even notice. As he’s placing the plate on your coffee table he sees you by the tree holding the wrapped box he spotted earlier. You pick up a thin box wrapped in plaid paper. You walk over to the couch and hand Benny his gift.
“Open yours first.” Benny nods to the gift wrapped in plaid paper that you’re holding as he sits down.
Benny watches you sit down as you carefully undo the ribbon and slide your finger underneath the tape. He’s never seen someone unwrap a gift so carefully and it makes him smile.
“Oh Benny, you remembered.” 
Benny watches you run your hand over the open box containing The Polar Express book set with the silver bell and cassette tape. He remembered the time the movie came on and you complained how it could never compare to the book illustrations and the William Hurt narration. You told him that you always listened to it as a family before you got too old to think it was cool. When you said it he saw the look on your face and he did what he always does; he filed it away.
“Guess who learned about Etsy this year?” 
The face Benny makes, causes you to laugh. The thought of him making an account and searching for this is a gift in and of itself.
“I would have paid to see that.” You look back at the book, “This is the best gift. Thank you.” 
You lean across the small gap between the two of you and kiss him. It’s deeper this time and you can feel the little moan that comes out of Benny’s mouth making you smile. The scratch of his facial hair on your face is a reminder to you that even though Benny seems tough on the outside he’s the exact opposite with you.
You shift back to your seat and nod at the gift Benny is turning over in his hands. He holds it still for a moment before opening it. He takes an opposite approach in unwrapping; ripping the ribbon off, and tearing through the paper. When he opens the box he’s surprised to see a watch that looks exactly like the one he had lost while he was out working on a case. This was right around the time you two had started dating and he wasn’t even aware you had ever paid attention to it. It was a watch he had worn forever—his favorite watch. And when he couldn’t find an exact replacement, he settled on a lesser watch, a watch that never quite measured up. But this, this was it. This was his watch.
“How did you—“
“You’re not the only Etsy user around here.” 
Benny laughs as he takes off the watch he’s wearing to put this one on. You had planned on finding it for his birthday, but it took longer than expected. You can’t even remember how many places you went searching for a watch you could only describe from memory. It was a gift that you bought to hopefully express your love to him when you were afraid to say the words out loud.
Benny grabs your hand and yanks you on top of him. His arm wraps around your waist, his brown eyes looking into you, trying to determine if it’s something he should say now or if he should wait. He knows he could have—should have—said it months ago. Now, there’s something now about the way you’re cradling his face with your hands. Or how your eyes are locked on his own, that is making him loopy.
“I love you..” he stammers to correct himself, “I’ve loved you.” 
He blurts it out like a criminal breaking down and confessing a crime. You’re both still and Benny’s worried he’s made a mistake. But then you run your hand over his hair and back down to his cheek–it makes Benny twitch. You kiss the crown of his head, the side of his nose, his jaw, and then his lips. 
“I love you too, Benny.”
Benny’s skin prickles when you say his name. He shifts so he’s more upright, holding you in his lap. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He buries his face in your chest and squeezes you against him. “I love you so much.” 
You’re thinking of how Benny’s hold on you feels like you’re finally home when something catches your eye through the window.
“I think it’s snowing?”
You climb off of Benny and you both turn to look out of the window. There’s a flurry of white flakes all around your front yard. Benny sees you staring slack jawed through the window and starts to laugh.
“Come on.” He stands up from the couch and tilts his head towards the front door. 
You get up and follow him outside onto your porch. You see a layer of snow covering the grass in your yard and don’t understand how it’s snowing in Los Angeles when it’s 70 degrees out. You stick your hand out and feel the crisp flakes land and melt into your palm.
“How?” You look at Benny and he’s smiling. He points to a man in the corner of your yard with some kind of machine and you finally realize where it’s coming from.
“Compliments of Big Nick!” The man yells it across the yard.
Benny can’t believe that shithead Nick came through. He knows he’ll be paying him back for the rest of his life. But when he looks at you watching the snow like it's some kind of Christmas miracle it doesn’t matter, Benny would pay him back ten lifetimes over. He feels the sting of tears in his eyes and pulls you to him resting his head on top of yours.
“Merry Christmas, Maple Bar.”
“Merry Christmas, Benny.”
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wishful-seeker · 1 month
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I have this really specific fond memory I'd like to share.
First time i played minecraft with mods was with a modpack called the "CrackPack" and in it included a bunch of fantasy mods. In one mod was a huuuuge redwood tree, like the diameter of the trunk was around 10 blocks. I would spend time hollowing out this giant tall tree in creative and make it into a home. I'd have a room at the very top with big windows overlooking the land. Under a window i would make a desk and place a typewriter. In this mod you could use the typewriter to write books. I didn't play minecraft to fight bosses, or play survival, or even build much in creative. I would just play to write stories in that typewriter.
I now play more normally lol. I love actually playing the game now, but im playing with mods again, this time with a custom pack i made. I have had this world for over a year. It started when for the first time in literally 2 to 3 years, i felt well enough to play on my computer without voice commands. It was short lived, but i promised to get back on this world when i started getting better and recovering from my CRPS. About a year later i got back on. I have now been playing it for months, everyday, for hours each day. As long as i take a 20 minute break every 20 minutes, i can actually use a computer now. The most isolating part of my illness wasn't being bedridden. It was being bedridden AND unable to play games. No switch, 3DS, or computer for 3 YEARS. No video games, a huge hobby of mine, for three years.
And now i sit here, in game, sitting on a swing i built in a tree, overlooking a very cuttered picnic area i built for me and my friends. Book and quill in hand, doing some automatic writing like i did 10 years ago.
Some of us chronically ill people are never getting better. We're never going to be able bodied again. I not only feel greatful i have this, but i just want to say, even if you have a progressive disease like i do, you might not know what next year will bring. Maybe things will never be the same, but things CAN get better. No, i don't mean you are going to recover, no one can tell you that. I mean LIFE can get better. Right now im recovering, maybe in a few years I'll get worse again, but that doesn't mean LIFE will always be bad. Even when im 60, and this illness has done even more damage, there will be SOMETHING that gives me joy, somewhere, somehow.
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dragoninahumancostume · 5 months
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Today I was functioning with 9 hours of sleep, which is good, awesome actually, 3 hours more than I usually do. And yet, I felt way more shitty than when I only do 7 hours or less. Every sound was painful, every mild raise of voice or even tiny change in tone made me feel horrible, my dad asked about why we didn't have keys for the door and I as soon as I answered he left and I had to go to the bathroom to wash my face and to stop myself from crying my first instinct was to bite my hand (twice, left a mark that lasted for like 20 minutes which is 19 more than they last most of the time, so I guess I bit it too hard), I was shaking like a fucking chihuaha for like an hour or more, I was too overwhelmed and for no reason, I started panicking because apparently I've been feeling directions wrong??? I think I confused west with east and it was terrifying not being able to know where km standing and now I can't fucking trust myself (not like I ever could, but now I trust me less) I just. Fuck. I'm gonna pick up my Wolf Chan plushie and hug it until I fall asleep as soon as the clock says 11pm because I really won't be able to last for any longer today. I really want to turn back time for a couple minutes so I can be a little kid in the loving embrace of my mother without feeling like I need to count the time just I don't concern her. I feel too much at the same time and I can't put a name to any of it and it's all overlapping and I can't explain what's going on and I can't remember when it started and I can barely remember anything that happened before yesterday, the days blur together and it all feels the same and it all hurts. I just want to spend one day without wanting to cry. I just want to talk to someone calmly without stuttering or feeling anxious. I just want to sit under my desk with a heavy blanket and a pillow and a plushie and take a nap without tensing up at every single noise from outside my room, and without having to look at the door constantly
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allthingsfangirl101 · 7 months
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Top Gun - Baby Mav Chapter 1: Old Faces, Same Anger
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Masterlist
Maverick walked into the run-down diner, his entire suit smoking. The second he walked in the door, everyone looked at him. He walked up to the counter, unable to speak. With a shaking hand, he reached forward and pointed at the glass of water on the waitress's tray. To Maverick's surprise, she handed it to him. He graciously took it and downed the entire thing with everyone watching him.
"Thank you," he whispered once he had finished. He cleared his throat, trying to fix his voice. "Where am I?"
"Earth." A little boy sitting nearby said.
"Is there someone we can call. . . Should call?"
Thanks to the waitress, Maverick was able to call Hondo. They instantly sent a helicopter and escorted him back to base.
"This should be interesting," he mumbled as he got out of the helicopter after it landed.
"Admiral Cain would like to see you," one of the two security guards said as they approached him.
"He'd be crazy if he didn't want to," Maverick mumbled as he followed them through the ship.
The guards stopped outside an office. The second he walked in, he saw Admiral Cain behind the desk, glaring at a file in front of him. He didn't have to guess to figure out whose file it was being analyzed.
"Maverick," he said through his teeth.
"Yep," Maverick confirmed in his mind but definitely not out loud. His file.
"Thirty-plus years of service. Combat medals. Citations. Only man to shoot down three enemy planes in the last 40 years. Until, the F-18-20 flight three years ago. But you knew that, of course. Distinguished. Distinguished. Distinguished. Yet you can't get a promotion, you won't retire, and despite your best efforts, you refuse to die."
"I can't leave my girl, sir," Maverick said.
"You should be at least a two-star admiral by not, if not a senator," Admiral Cain continued without being phased by Maverick's mumbling interruption. "Yet here you are: Captain. Why is that?"
"It's one of life's mysteries, sir."
"This isn't a joke," Cain said instantly. "I asked you a question."
"I'm where I belong, sir."
"Well, the Navy doesn't see it that way," Cain sighed. "Not anymore. These planes you've been testing, Captain, one day, sooner than later, they won't need pilots at all. Pilots that need to sleep, eat, take a piss. Pilots that disobey orders. All you did was buy some time for those men out there. The future is coming, and you're not in it."
Maverick looked away, biting back his anger. "Escort this man off the base," Admiral Cain continued. "Take him to his quarters. Wait with him while he packs his gear. I want him on the road to North Island within the hour."
It took Maverick a minute to realize what Admiral Cain had ordered.
"North Island, sir?"
"Call came in with impeccable timing," Cain began to explain, "right as I was driving here to ground your ass once and for all. It galls me to say it but. . . for reasons known only to the Almighty and your guardian angel, you've been called back to TOPGUN."
"Sir?"
"You are dismissed, Captain," he interrupted Maverick.
The news still hadn't sunk in, but he was dismissed, so he started leaving. He was barely to the door when Cain spoke up again.
"The end is inevitable, Maverick. Your kind is headed for extinction."
Maverick couldn't help himself. He paused at the door and slowly turned toward his superior.
"Maybe so, sir," he responded. "But not today."
* * * * *
After the Mach 10 test, Maverick was surprised he was given another assignment and not fired. Maverick walked into the old TOPGUN Pacific Fleet Naval Air Force Base glad to be back. He stopped in the hallway when he came across and old photo of him and Iceman. Memories from his time in the program hit him like a jet stream.
"They're waiting for you in the conference room," said the secretary. "You can go right in."
"Thank you," Maverick nodded kindly to her. He walked in, not recognizing one of the two men sitting at the head of the table.
"Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell," one began as he looked Maverick over. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Thank you, sir."
"Wasn't a compliment," the admiral said simply. "I'm Admiral Beau Simpson. I'm the Air Boss. I believe you know Admiral Bates."
"Warlock, sir," Maverick corrected him with a smile. Bates sent him a disapproving glare. "Must admit. I wasn't expecting an invitation back."
"They're called orders, Maverick," Bates replied. "You two have something in common. Cyclone here was first in his class back in '88."
"Actually, sir, I finished second," Maverick corrected again. "Just want to manage expectations."
Maverick was smiling but Bates sighed.
"The target," Simpson continued, "is an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant built in violation of a multilateral NATO treaty. The uranium produced there represents a direct threat to our allies in the region. The Pentagon has tasked us with assembling a strike team and taking it out before it becomes fully operational. The plant sits in an underground bunker at the end of this valley. Said valley is GPS-jammed and defended by an extensive surface-to-air missile array serving a limited number of fifth-generation fighters, which in turn are backed up by a plentiful reserve of surplus aircraft. Even a few old F-14s."
"Seems like we're not the only ones holding on to old relics," Bates tried and failed to hide his smirk.
"What's your read, Captain?" Simpson asked.
"Well, sir, normally this would be a cakewalk for the F-35's stealth, but the GPS-jamming negates that. And a surface-to-air threat necessitates a low-level laser-guided strike tailor-made for the F-18. I figure, two precision bombs, minimum. Makes it four aircraft, flying in pairs. That is one hell of a steep climb out there, exposing you to all the surface-to-air missiles. You survive that, it's a dogfight all the way home."
"All requirements for which you have real-world experience," Bates noted.
"Not in the same mission, sir," Maverick admitted. "No. No, someone's not coming back from this."
"Can it be done or not?" Bates asked.
"How soon before the plant becomes operational?" Maverick asked.
"Three weeks," Simpson answered. "Maybe less."
"Well, it's been a while since I've flown an F-18, and. . . I'm not sure who I'd trust to fly the other three. But I'll find a way to make it work."
Bates and Solomon shared a look. "I think you misunderstand, Captain," Bates sighed.
"Sir?"
"We don't want you to fly it," Simpson said, not even trying to sound gentle. "We want you to teach it."
"Teach, sir?"
"We've recalled 12 TOPGUN graduates from their squadrons. We want you to narrow that pool down to six. They'll fly the mission."
It felt like someone had kicked his heart when he saw Rooster's picture on the screen.
"Is there a problem, Captain?" Simpson asked, trying to sound oblivious.
"You know there is, sir," Maverick said softly.
"Yeah," Simpson sighed. "Bradley Bradshaw, aka "Rooster". I understand you used to fly with his old man. What was his call sign?"
"Goose, sir."
"Tragic what happened," Simpson said.
"Captain Mitchell was cleared of any wrongdoing," Bates said instantly. "Goose's death was an accident."
"Is that how you see it, Captain?" Simpson asked. "Is that how Goose's son sees it?"
Maverick took a slow, calming breath as he turned fully toward Simpson. "With all due respect, sir, I'm not a teacher," he said.
"You were a TOPGUN instructor before," Simpson said like it shouldn't be a problem.
"That was almost 6 years ago," Maverick said emotionless. "I lasted two months."
"Yes," Simpson sighed. "Until the F-18-20 flight. Tell me, how is the only surviving pilot of that mission? Does she still talk to you?"
"Yes," Maverick said instantly, "she does. But as I was saying, it's not where I belong."
"Then let me be perfectly blunt," Simpson said. "You were not my first choice. In fact, you weren't even on my list. You are here at the request of Admiral Kazansky. Now, Iceman happens to be a man I deeply admire, and he seems to think that you have something left to offer the Navy. What that is, I can't imagine. You don't have to take this job. But let me be clear: This will be your last post, Captain. You fly for TOPGUN or you don't fly for the Navy ever again."
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sleepy-stories · 2 years
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Mickey spoke to her. She sounded sweet and kind. Her voice was high-pitched but adorable as it is. Roger wished this was a dream. A dream that she could be weird as hell if she wanted to. Being able to hug and ask questions, magically have tea and cake, and just sit here for days. But she needed to answer back before she could cause even more trouble to her day.
Roger looked directly at her. “Uh, Hi I’m Roger Rabbit.” She automatically introduces herself to them but mostly to Mickey. 
“Oh,” Mickey said before chuckling a little. “I’m Mickey Mo-” 
Roger cut her off. “Oh I know, a lot of people outside of Toontown know you and everyone here. I think it’s obvious that I'm a new student to this wonderful school with the mention of the outside world from Toontown.” 
“Really? Where are you from?” Mickey said, moving out of the way for Roger to walk in.
Roger told her as she took steps to a nearby chair and sat down in it. “I’m from Maroon City,” 
Roger recalls her inner thoughts before and feels like this is a dream. This should have been a dream. But she reminded herself again it was not a dream but real life. 
She quietly looked at everyone again. Seeing every detail of their unique look. From the way, they dress to stay-together hairdos. Roger wished that her hair could do that where it’s not even messy when she went out of place from her everyday look.
Roger turned to her left, Goofy sat on the desk beside her. She was taller than she expected. Roger thought the girl would be average size but not almost the same size as the door that she just entered. 
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How does she get into places? 
However, in front of her, there were smaller friends of Goofy. Minus Mickey, who Roger just met, noticed the three crew who looked too similar. They all look like a family more in thought as siblings. But it would be rude to say that and run with it. From goofy to the piano, was Daisy, Donna who was an exchange student from Mexico, and lastly on the piano, the unlucky person in the entire school Donald Duck. 
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They were all different from the others in looks, color, and beauty. 
How do they stay so pretty?
Then lastly, Minnie, Roger first thought that both Mickey and Minnie were dating. But there was an article that she read from a post that Minnie made saying that he was aromantic and had to explain within the same post. 
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She could remember that post in detail.
MinnieBowToon: I am Aromantic, Aromantic isn’t because I haven’t found the perfect person or just hateful to others. It's just that I don't feel any romantic attraction to others. (Posted at XX/XX/20XX)
Roger was proud of him for coming forward even if there are people in the comments of that post and any recent post being bigotry to him. Saying that you ruin my fantasy stories of you with themselves or with Mickey or even Daisy, surprisingly. And others said hoping this is a joke but the rest were nice enough to support.
With all the staring and remembering from what Roger knows. This dream became slightly true. But it was just chatting about each other, mentioning the music from earlier and other stuff. 
Time went by for about nearly 20 minutes ahead, and Roger noticed the time. . She got up from her chair and collected her things. 
She explained that she needed to leave for her next class that is 15 minutes later. “Thank you for letting me stay even if I was the one barge in without knocking,” Roger said, heading to the door.
“No problem.” Mickey waved goodbye and the others followed suit. As it was on cue. 
The redhead thought it was cool but others might think it was creepy. Roger waved back and left the room.
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letarasstuff · 3 years
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Ranting
(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)
Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team
Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct
Wordcount: 2.3k
✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.
Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.
So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.
It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.
A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.
The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.
Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.
It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.
“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”
At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”
Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.
On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.
“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.
To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.
Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.
The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”
Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”
“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.
“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.
This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).
“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”
Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.
“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.
“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”
After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.
Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.
Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.
“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.
Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.
When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.
Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.
“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?
I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.
(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.
After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”
Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.
The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.
Taglist:
All works:
@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner
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beneathashadytree · 2 years
Text
EXAM SEASON - SHOTA AIZAWA X READER
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Warnings : reader is implied to be in their late 20s/early 30s (they’re preparing for their PhD), reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : fluff, comfort
Word count : 1.0K words
Synopsis : Nothing is more reassuring during exam season than having a teacher as your husband.
Requests : Are closed for the time being.
Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!
Masterlist
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The shuffling of his footsteps indicated that he was making his way to stand right behind them, and they stiffened. In all honesty, they’d hoped that he wouldn’t catch them in the state they were in; so frazzled and stressed out that they’d barely noticed his presence only because they’d dreaded it.
“What’s with the frown?” came his deep gravelly voice from their left.
“Last time I checked, no one smiles when they’re failing,” they mumbled under their breath, dropping their pen and instead setting their head down on the desk, having already given up on making any progress.
He frowned, “Don’t say that. Show me, I might be able to help.”
Weakly smiling at him, they pushed the papers in his direction, “No offense though, love, but you probably won’t get shit. It’s stuff for my PhD.”
“No really? You don’t say,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes, “I meant that I could help you with the studying process. I am a teacher, in case you forgot.”
Without waiting another second, he began to sift through the papers, carefully analyzing the way the information was laid out, whereas his spouse only watched him with mild amusement as his eyebrows furrowed. Only after ten minutes had passed did he take their hand, gesturing towards the bed with his head.
“Come on. Up. I’ll get the things we need.”
A little confused, they silently obeyed, having no fight left in them after attempting to drill information in their head for hours on end. Flopping back against the pillows, they turned their head to watch as Aizawa threw down the papers and a bunch of multi-colored boxes from his desk drawer.
“What’s all this?” they curiously asked, as he bit down on a hairband while his hands pulled his hair back into a ponytail.
Once done, he began to pull out various things from said boxes; pens, markers, colored papers, and more small pieces of stationery.
Rolling up his sleeves and looking down at the pile of research papers, he simply answered, “Childish as it might seem, sometimes breaking down information accordingly helps you memorize it.”
Resorting to simply watching him, they looked on as he began to copy down shortened bullet points onto small multi-colored flashcards. “Each color corresponds to a different part of the topic. When color-coded and simplified, information is much easier to remember. Kind of like visual learning.”
They hummed in understanding, now sitting up as he began to pick out colorful pens from amidst the heap on the bed, explaining under his breath as he fumbled with the flashcards, “Underlining the keywords in different colored pens is kind of like highlighting a certain word—it makes it stand out. You’ll be able to remember the most important parts of a sentence and build the rest of it around it.”
“Kind of like a… fill in the blanks sort of thing?” they mused, and he nodded, giving them an encouraging smile that they quickly returned.
Within ten minutes, he’d already riffled through all the papers and rewritten them comprehensively in a multitude of colors on the flashcards. He snapped a couple of pictures of the cards using his phone, and then handed them back, tucking a stray strand of ebony hair behind his ear.
“Go on then, go through them while I tidy up. Once you’re done with that, I can check your progress by letting you recite the parts you want to memorize the most,” pushing himself up, he gently ruffled their hair with a fond smile, “We can repeat until you feel you’re satisfied.”
Even if they tried to, they wouldn’t have been able to fully express their immense gratitude through words, and so they could only show it by doing just as he said. With a determined grin on their face and an enthusiastic nod, they felt far more refreshed than they would’ve been if they’d taken a walk in the park for a break.
Two hours had passed, and Aizawa had just finished drying his hair from the quick shower he’d taken (having already finished correcting two piles of worksheets left by his 1-A students), when they finally looked up from the flashcards.
Pulling his hair up into a ponytail once again, he looked at them in the vanity’s reflection, asking, “Ready for a small presentation?”
Raising a clenched fist, they nodded eagerly, “Yeah. Let’s get this done.”
***
Another two hours of rapid-fire questioning passed, before they finally heaved a sigh of relief and fell on their back into the mattress. Their husband chuckled, before shuffling closer to them on the bed, cupping their face for a second before leaning into press a very light kiss to their forehead.
“Good job,” he mumbled against their skin, “You should be proud of yourself.”
They gave him a nervous laugh, “I would, if I wasn’t so anxious.”
Calloused fingers threaded through their hair, gently scratching at their scalp and pulling relaxed moans from them as he asked, “When’s your next exam?”
“In two days,” they sighed, turning around a little to wrap their arms around his waist, cozying up into his chest, “It’s the one that holds the biggest weight in the total marks.”
Aizawa hummed in understanding, before carefully choosing his next words, “You’ll be fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about when you’ve worked so hard.”
Swallowing thickly, they nodded, “Will you… is it okay if you help me again tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, if it’ll help.”
Squeezing him as tight as they could, they hoped they could transmit all their feelings through this embrace. Perhaps they reached him, because it felt as though he were holding them just a tiny bit firmer than before, his heartbeat thrumming under their ear.
“Thank you, my love,” they muttered softly, melting into his arms as he stroked their back, “You’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s nothing,” his voice sounded deeper in this position, chest vibrating underneath them as he gave a short laugh, a feeling akin to bliss blossoming in their body as he added, “If anything, I’m just glad you relied on me.”
And though they didn’t say more, Aizawa knew that they were beyond touched by his honest words. After all, what kind of man doesn’t understand every unspoken word and subtle gesture of his beloved?
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Taglist: @wifeofkyojuro @thispersoniscrazy
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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years
Text
The Nanny Pt. 3
Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader
18+
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: alcohol/drinking, food, corrupt cop, mentions of prostitution/smut, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, mentions of serial killers/murder, mutual pining, 
Summary:
Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.
A/N: I got inspired re-watching one of my favorite shows and I want to know if anyone else gets the reference I’m using! If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know! This is also unedited!
Taglist Form is in my bio!
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Your shoulders tensed listening to the radio in the morning. Sitting on your ottoman, you were painting your nails, using the coffee table as your nail station. It was a really bright morning, and you had the curtains pulled open to draw in light. Julie frantically rushed between her room and the bathroom getting ready for her shift at the diner. The newest single from The Beach Boys was playing through the little counter top radio, but at the top of the hour, the melodies playing through the speaker changed to the news. The top story of the morning was chilling.
“Jules,” you said, calling her over hesitantly, putting the cap back on the bottle of polish. “Come listen to this.”
She scurried out of her room while working to tie her apron in the back, and then she stood next to where you sat to listen to the story on the news. The color drained from her face as you both listened to the reporter describe the horrific scene that was under investigation early this morning.
Roy Laferty was an evangelical preacher whose body washed up by the lake very early that same morning. The news report talked about the police investigation, and also disclosed his wife Helen, is also reported missing. They are looking into the disappearance of Helen, as well as opening a full investigation on Laferty’s murder. They also urge individuals with any information regarding the two to call the Sheriff’s department and to provide a statement.
“That’s horrifying,” you mumble, shocked as you try to process the news. Julie nods in agreement but strangely doesn’t seem nearly as affected by the news as you.
“It’s happening again,” she mutters, obviously concerned but her lack of surprise worries you.
“What do you mean again?” you ask.
“There was a string of unexplained murders, all men, like this newest one,” Julie explained, “This was all over the news like two years ago- can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.” All you could do was shrug; this was all new to you. “Obviously, there was nothing linking their deaths, but there were these five killings a couple of years ago that are still unsolved. There’s no evidence, but the town rumors it was like a serial killer or something. Nothing is confirmed, of course, just a story.”
“What makes people think it was all the same person?” you ask, hesitantly.
“All the people were always the same type,” she shrugs, “Men all in their 20s and 30s. Again, there’s nothing linking them all together. It’s just talk.”
You clicked off the radio, and didn’t know what to do with yourself. Julie patted your shoulder, comfortingly but she had to go on with her day. So did you, and you almost her ability to move about the apartment almost unfazed by the news. You suppose it makes sense, her growing up here she’s probably used to it. You didn’t have the experience or the thick skin she had.
You had decided to go to the library, still preoccupied by the news segment as well as the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff. You spent the better half of the morning looking at the library’s archives of old newspapers. You wanted to read more about the unsolved cases Julie had told you about, so there you sat for several hours looking through the microfilm reader. You even stumbled upon articles that featured the Sheriff.
There he was plain as day on the front page when it was announced he had won the election the first time he ran several years back. You couldn’t help but notice the changes in his appearance and demeanor compared to the man you keep running into. He was a little slimmer, and he looked a lot happier, a little fuller of life, you decided was a good way to explain it. His smile was wider, and you could see the difference in his eyes as well. It was seeing how he was before the stress of the job began to take its heavy toll. He had on the same leather jacket as well, you were fairly certain, even though the one in the photograph hung a little looser.
You continued to skim through articles, piecing your way through the history of Knockemstiff. Little articles in black and white that persevered the history of this dark little town. You were beginning to realize this backwater town was a lot more tangled and complex than you originally believed. It was a tangled history, riddled with crime and unclosed cases, that people seem to have either forgotten or choose to ignore for their own sake. Your mind wandered back to the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff and him being corrupt. You wonder how much of what you read about linked back to him. Though you imagine if he has any sort of political connection, which a man like him must have, the things he was involved in probably didn’t even make it into the paper. The thought made you physically shiver.
You put the large leather portfolios of archives you took and put them back into their proper place on the self chronologically. You grabbed your sweater from the back of your chair, and pushed the chair back into place. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it was only just one in the afternoon. You decided to head down to the diner and grab a bite, and also visit Julie during her second shift. It was a short walk from the library to the diner. Everywhere felt like a short walk here, probably because everything in downtown was not much bigger than a few blocks. The majority of people lived far from the center of town, on their own land and farms.
The little bell on the door rang when you stepped in and Julie waved at you from behind the counter and pointed for you to grab an empty table in her section. You put your bag on the table and took a seat. It was a fairly busy time, most people who worked at the surrounding businesses coming in for their lunch break. Julie brought you over a coffee and then said she’d be back to chat when she got to take her five.
Lee hadn’t been able to go home since the phone call. The symptoms of his hangover were worsening and he was growing more irritable. His five o’clock shadow was still evident on his tired face and his head was pounding. He tried his best to just power through it but the sound of anyone trying to talk to him just made his ears ring.
After leaving the scene, he had to stop by his office and then he was on the phone for the better part of an hour fielding calls from frantic citizens not only of Knockemstiff but also Meade, where Laferty was from. Despite how horribly he felt, he tried his best to keep his temper level and just reassure people he had things under control. He was losing his patience.
He opened up his desk drawer and grabbed his bottle of asprin. Empty. He threw it into the small waste bin and got up abruptly grabbing his jacket off the hook and storming out. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and he didn’t care. It was a short walk to the drugstore from the station and he wouldn’t be five minutes. He just needed to do something to stop his head from hurting.
“Afternoon, Sheriff,” the pharmacist greeted when he walked in. He nodded his head upwards briefly to reply without having to talk. He just needed to get in and out. She went back to whatever she was working on when he came in, and he browsed the aisles for what he needed. After paying and walking out, he glanced in the direction of the diner when he was crossing the street. There you were, again. Sitting alone and chatting with the waitress that was refilling your coffee.
He let out a heavy sigh, and then continued walking. He didn’t want you to see him like this, hungover, unshaved, wrinkled uniform and heavy undereye bags from his lack of sleep. You looked- well, Lee thought you were the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, maybe ever. There was something about you he couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was just because you weren’t from here. You were a fresh face, and not ruined by this town. There was a sweetness and an innocence in how you talked to him, because you didn’t know him like the rest of people here did. He liked that.
Even when he left the station for the day, he couldn’t even go home yet. He had a meeting at the bar with one of Brown’s lackeys. He was just supposed to collect his cut so he couldn’t imagine it would take long, but he was still annoyed. Stepping into the bar he looked around as he took off his hat. It was a little more crowded tonight then when he was here last. The red curtain was closed and his eyes lingered there for a moment before directing his attention to the man he recognized who was waving him over.
“Sheriff,” the man greets and Lee slides into the booth across from him.
“Hayward,” he replies. Without even needing to order, the bartender comes over bringing them a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
“You ever go back there?” Hayward asks, watching as a girl came out and brought a man behind the curtain who had been waiting at the bar.
“No,” Lee scoffs.
“They are amazing,” Hayward says, almost giddy. Lee feels sympathy towards the poor woman who had to take care of him. Lee doesn’t acknowledge the statement and just empties his glass and begins to pour himself a second.
“So, my cut?” Lee asks. Hayward frowns and goes into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulls out an envelope of cash.
“You aren’t getting full,” the man says when Lee cocks a brow at the thinness of the envelope.
“Still?” Lee asks, pissed. Hayward nods. Lee’s jaw clenches.
“You didn’t keep things tidy on your end,” Hayward reminds him, “You got one job. Keep the cops out of our territory. We had two cruisers drive through last week. The only reason you’re getting anything at all is cause you managed to keep your people off us when we did the exchange with Deckard’s crew.”
The man finishes his drink, and then slaps the empty glass on the table. He pulls out his own envelope, which is much thicker than Lee’s and drops down more than enough for the drinks. He chuckles condescendingly and tells the Sheriff to get a dance. Fuck that. Lee takes the extra money and plans to just put it right in his pocket and go home. He finishes his third scotch and suddenly his headache was back. He felt worse than he did earlier today.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” a feminine voice asks, making him break his line of thought. He looks to his side and he recognizes her as one of the girls he sees bringing men to the back room, behind the velvet curtain. He shakes his head, and instead of leaving him alone, she slides into the booth next to him. Her hand grazes over his thigh. “You seem awful tense, Sheriff,” she says and then bites her lip.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He knows she doesn’t actually want him, and it’s just an attempt to get him to spend money in the backroom. If he doesn’t focus his already hazing vision, maybe she could vaguely remind him of you. He can’t do it, but he wants to. Her hand moves up his leg and he pulls away. He adjusts his pants and she shrugs.
“Maybe next time then,” she winks before walking away. He rests his head back on the vinyl seat and sighs. He grabs his hat and jacket, leaving before he changes his mind. “Ask for Cherry when you come in, yeah?” she calls when he walks out.
You are just everywhere. You’re in his head and he doesn’t even know you. He needs to sleep, desperately, and part of him in the back of his mind hopes you’ll be there. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember.
“Have you heard about the Church fundraiser coming up?” Julie asks. You shake your head. “It’s a pretty big deal here. Everyone participates.”
“What is it?” you ask, kicking off your slippers so you can sit crisscross on the couch.
“Bid-On-A-Basket,” she says casually, like it’s the most obvious thing.
“Never heard of it,” you reply, “It sounds fun. What is it?”
“All us single gals put together a picnic basket with everything for a lunch,” she explains, “and then all the eligible bachelors bid on the basket and a date with the girl who made it. Last year, the dreamiest guy, Bill Whittier, bought mine- it’s so fun. Me and Bill didn’t work out but it was a good time.”
“I don’t know anyone here,” you say hesitantly.
“Perfect way to get a date then,” she teases. You bite your lip. You aren’t sure about this.
“And what if some creep is the highest bidder?” you counter.
“You get a bad date story for your next date?” she poses. “Please,” she begs, “It’s for a good cause, all the money this year is going to help the Sunday school.”
“What if no one bids on it?” You rebut.
“Look at yourself,” she scoffs, “you’ll get bids. Trust me.” You roll your eyes.
“I’ll think about it,” you say finally. She smirks, completely planning to wear you down.
“Remember it’s for the kids,” she reasons, “It wouldn’t hurt to go and participate.”
“I said I’ll think about it,” you laugh.
Time passes and soon enough you get another call from Sandy, and you are suddenly back to taking care of Valerie. You had missed her, a lot actually. You definitely have gotten attached to her, and you think you’ve grown on her too. Sandy was vague this time for how long they’d be gone, but since the previous time went so smoothly, you didn’t worry about it.
About a week after Sandy and Carl left this time, there was another disturbing news report. You were sitting on the floor, changing Valerie and you had the television playing softly in the background. The news told the story of another body, this time found in the woods off of the highway. You finish changing the baby and hold her close, her little chin resting on your shoulder as you watch the news story. It was just like Julie had talked about. Another man, thirty years old. He was shot and his body abandoned. You jump at the knock at the front door.
You peep through the curtains, and you see the Sheriff waiting on the front porch. You wonder if he knows you’re there. Part of you almost wishes he knows it you here and he wanted to see you. It’s incredibly stupid on your part and you know better, but nonetheless, part of you hoped he came here for you. Very stupid. With Valerie on your hip, you open the door.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he says walking into the house. He stops in front of you and presses a kiss to Valerie’s forehead and she squeals happily seeing Lee. You close the door with your foot. “May I?” he asks, and opens his arms. You agree, based on Valerie’s reactions to him whenever she sees him. He takes her in his arms, and she starts playing with his tie. He loosens it so she can play with it and not choke him.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” you ask. He reacts in a way in a way you can’t really read, but you don’t press.
His mind just goes back to the woman a couple weeks back in the brothel who asked him the same thing, and that his mind immediately had gone to you. He just clears his throat and snaps himself out of that thought process.
“Um, I just came by to see Sandy,” he says, “But I can fathom a guess that she’s not here?”
“Excellent deduction,” you joke, and he smirks. Valerie has his tie in her mouth and is covering it in drool. He doesn’t even seem to care.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “You looked a little scared when you answered.”
“Just watching the news before you showed up is all,” you explain, “They were talking about how there was another man found dead.”
“Ain’t got nothing to worry about,” he says, “We’re on top of it. I’m on my way over there now.”
“Can I ask you something?” you ask hesitantly.
“Of course, darling.”
“My friend, you probably know her- Julie Grady.”
“Yeah, nice kid,” he says, listening but gently pulling his tie from Valerie’s grasp. She starts playing with the flap of the pocket of his jacket.
Kid. You almost grimace. That’s right. Of course, Lee would view someone your age that way. You weren’t. You chastise yourself for even caring, but you decide to continue. You shouldn’t care how he sees you.
“Yeah- well, she told me there have been others,” you continue, “I also read up about it, just the newspapers at the library- but she said people thought it was some kind of serial killer… I just, I want to know what you think.”
“I don’t think know,” he answers honestly, a little taken aback, not expecting you to approach him with something this serious. “I doubt it,” he explains, “Serial killers stay close to home. Now those cases you read about, and these two we are looking at- they sound close together but logistically, they aren’t really. Two of those unsolved were in completely different states- just like this new one.”
“So, no traveling serial killer?” you chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. He chuckles and shakes his head.
“Most people like that stay in one area,” Lee explains, “They work jobs, they have a home, you know? They tend to stay near where they live.”
“That makes me feel much better,” you answer honestly.
“You got nothing to worry about, and that’s a promise,” he grins, although he supposes coming from him that probably doesn’t mean much. Regardless, it makes you smile.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” you offer again. He bites his lip, taking a moment to think.
“Sandy keeps a bag of candy in her cabinet,” he says, walking into the kitchen with you following close behind. He passes Valerie off to you and he chuckles under his breath at the state of his tie. He reaches up in the cabinet and pulls down a brown paper bag, filled with taffies and chocolates.
Something about this man who has a whole time scared of him playing with his niece and then stealing sweets from the cupboard is something you find so strangely endearing. He unwraps one of the brightly colored taffies and then puts the bag in his pocket.
“I gotta go,” he announces, “let me know if you hear from Sandy, yeah?”
“Of course,” you reply.
“Gonna head out to that scene, and do my report,” he discloses, not really sure why he’s telling you. “Then I have a meeting at the rectory about that fundraiser thing. Figure out security.”
“They need security at Bid-On-A-Basket?” you ask, with an eyebrow raised. He smiles.
“You going?” he asks, flirtatiously.
“Just seems weird to have police at a Church thing.”
“There’s been stupid fights,” he shrugs, “some guy will get outbid and cause a fuss. Nothing serious. Probably just gonna be me and a deputy in case. You going?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” you say sheepishly. “Why?”
He walks towards the front door, and you follow seeing him out.
“Cause I gotta know if I’ll be bidding on a basket,” he winks.
“You gonna start a fight if you don’t win it?” you joke.
“If it’s yours? Absolutely, darling.”
Taglist:
@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro @pyronack @greeneyedblondie44  @acciosiriusblack  @weenersoldierr @teenagemutant @witchybarb @iraot @my-love-darling @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @swiftieandthewintersoldier @letsfly-andbe-free @rebekahdawkins @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @hersilencedscreams @unsaltedalmonds @dangerdolns @vintagepigeon @bluebouquetcupcake29 @goslytherin @captainofallfandoms @buckistan @aynanasstuff @everything-is-all-clear @rosalynshields @tinynshykitten​ 
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joshstambourine · 3 years
Text
A Seconds Glance
"Hi I have a request for either Josh or Jake 💛 can I get a story where they see a girl, either at school or they can already be famous in this, and is instantly enamored. I don't know if you've seen The Virgin Suicides, but if you have then something similar to when Trip sees Lux for the first time. I'm interested in how those two would go about getting a girl's attention when they have a crush.💕💕💕" - Anonymous
//Hi Doll! I can’t say I have seen that--- but I will try my best to write something that I feel matches the idea you had. 
I’m gonna be repeating this forever--- but again, I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this request out for you! I decided to go with Josh being in school for this one.//
Warnings: Cursing, awkward beans
Word Count: 1969
Synopsis: Josh had never really believed in love at first sight... but yet....
Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader
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The first day of sophomore year. For most this was just the start of another school year; a sudden reminder that a new binder or fun pencil case is exciting for all of 10 minutes when it comes to actual classes and work. But for Josh… this year felt like it was filled with possibilities. It sounds like some sort of stupid thing you'd see on a motivational calendar, but it really truly did.
Josh hadn't imagined for a second that he actually would have a chance in making music his career; and yet, he had spent all summer with his band mates playing for different occasions and pubs. All the while they were working, working hard on writing songs that they could be proud to play for others.
All of that said, Josh was returning to high-school this year with a new found amount of confidence and excitement; it showed in every step Josh took. His one hand held loosely on to the arm of his backpack, walking in time with Jake.
"But what do you think? Would it look good on me?" Jake inquired, fingers lightly playing with the mid-length pieces of hair on his head.
"I mean… I don't know…" Josh lightly starts, glancing at his twin and begins to take a good long look at him.
Jake's eyes widened just a touch, his expression becoming one that said, 'Well…?'
"Uh… honestly I don't really know Jake. I've never seen you with anything else than this." Josh admits, then snickers a little, "Except for that one time when we decided it'd be fun to take those scissors and---"
"No, that's fine, I didn't need to think about that." Jake immediately stopped him, his hand going to take a full dive into his mess of dark brown hair. 
"Cmon, it was really funny though. Ma really lost her shit when she saw your head like that." Josh continued to muse, hands folding into his pockets with the utmost of ease. 
Jake shook his head in a mournful way, "I can say I will never go back to a buzz-cut again… not without a fight."
Josh's smile never faltered, it was his laughter that changed, softening into a bit of a sigh as they reached the double doors at the front of the school. With a swing of the doors they both were making their way down the hallway to their lockers.
"Meet by Mr.Shapiro's class before lunch?" Jake questioned, to which Josh nodded. No matter which school the twins went to the teachers seemed to know that the best course of action was to keep them separated. That said Josh and Jake always had separate homerooms at least, through most of their time in school.
"See ya in a bit." Josh waved, taking a few steps back before turning on his heels and heading to his own locker.
Josh's excitement to be back in class showed on his face more than he probably would have wanted. A few pencils in his hand along with a binder filled with blank paper and tucked away dividers.  
As soon as Josh stepped into the class room his eyes were met with many familiar faces. Some of these people he had been in school with since kindergarten; like Meg, a rather tall blunt faced girl with long kinky black hair. She simply threw a peace sign Josh's way as he stepped through the doors; he eagerly returned it, bringing a small smile to Meg's lips. 
With some brisk steps Josh moved to place himself at the back of the classroom, just behind Meg. He threw his things on his desk without much thought. Despite there being a good number of kids he knew... there seemed to be equally just as many new kids. 
Leaning on his desk Josh moved closer to Meg, "Where the hell did these guys come from?" 
Meg's brow lifted as she leaned back a little, "Know the high-school on the east side?" 
"The one where you can get crack for super cheap?" Josh inquired, 
Meg's head bobbed, "They closed it down, so now we get half the kids that went there." She explains with her head resting on her hand in a bored way. 
"Oh shit really? That's a lot of kids---" Josh was quick to respond, glancing around the room. 
"Oh yeah... way too many in my personal opinion --- not that anyone cares." Meg mutters, beginning to click her mechanical pencil. 
Josh's eyes were still taking in all the new faces as he started to respond, "Wow aren't we positive today." 
Meg sighed, "Eh.... I'm just not excited, Justin and I broke up over the summer and I'll have to see him in history." She began to explain, "Things are just really tense, yknow?" 
She waited a moment for him to give some comforting... but still idiotic response, however none came. It finally got Meg to turn and look at him, as she did she immediately noticed that Josh's eyes had widened just a touch, cheeks dusted a light pink. 
Meg followed the line of his eyes to a beautiful young woman. The expression he wore was more than enough to tell Meg that she should move. 
Josh was so busy just... taking the new girl in that he didn't even notice Meg slip to the free desk to the side of the one she was previously sat in. Josh just couldn't put his finger on it, there was something... something so breathtaking about her. Was it her eyes? Or maybe how her hair fell around her face? He couldn't be sure. What he was absolutely sure of was that he had never had a moment in his life where he could hear music just by looking at someone. 
"Hey... do you know if this desk is free?" A new voice shook Josh. It was her. She was standing at a desk to his left with a bit of an awkward air. 
He was just so shaken. What did she say again? Something about a desk? Josh's lips parted, "Uh--- I uh, what did you--?" 
"No that one isn't open, but the one just in front of my dude Josh is, right Josh?" Meg interrupted, pointing to the desk ahead of him. 
"Oh y-yeah, that one's open! Definitely 100% open! It couldn't be more open even if it tried!" Josh started spouting, he really wasn't even aware that his mouth had moved, and that was clear in the fact that it just kept moving when she had come to sit down. "Do you need any pencils at all?? I have like 20!" He continued, though his hand held one full sized pencil and one shorter than the average person's pinkie... both chewed on. "I mean not on me but--- who needs a pencil right?" 
The girl laughed a little awkwardly, her gaze moving from Josh to Meg and then to the desk. "No, no I'm okay thank you though." She slipped into the chair, keeping her gaze frontwards. 
Meg looks to Josh with a shocked look, 'What was that??' She mouthed, 
Josh responded with an absolutely mortified expression. He would never say he was the smoothest guy on the planet, but he had never been that awkward in his life. 
Meg shook her head before reaching out to tap the girl's shoulder, "I'm Meg!" She introduces, "And that goober is Josh." 
The girl lightly moved to glance over her shoulder at Josh in a shy way. "It's nice to meet you both. I'm (Y/N)." She hummed with a sweet smile. 
"That's a pretty name, isn't it Josh??" Meg quickly said, trying to get him to continue the conversation in a less awkward way.
Josh nodded very enthusiastically, "The prettiest name I've heard in a long time!" He said with a smile, 
(Y/N)'s cheeks began to hold a flush of their own. "Oh! Uh... th-thank you!" She sputtered out. 
'OH FUCK. She's so cute.' Josh thought to himself, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a shaky swallow. 
Little did Josh know that (Y/N) was thinking something very similar. She might not make it as obvious as he was, but being so much closer now... being able to see the warmth in his brown eyes, seeing how his wavy brown hair came to cup his cheeks --- she couldn't help but continue to stare back at him. 
The only thing that could pull them both out of the little trance they had fallen into was the bell. Both of them quickly looked toward it, followed by a man's voice at the front of the class. 
"Alright everyone, take your seats!" 
(Y/N) was reluctant but she turned herself to look toward the front of the class. A little bit nervous, but mustering an ounce of courage she tore a piece of paper from her notebook quietly and began to scribble something down. 
Josh hardly got anything out of that language arts class, he was way too busy trying to figure out what excuse he could make to talk with (Y/N) again. He was just rattling through every little conversation starter he had ever heard in his life... but none of them felt like they would work. 
Before long the bell had rung overhead once more and everyone was shuffling to grab their things and head to all of their next classes. 
Biting his lip, Josh was determined to catch (Y/N) before she could head off to her own next class. Luckily for him she had a similar idea. Both turning to each other as they stepped out of the classroom, it was painfully quiet at first. It seemed as if they were trying to get their thoughts together really. 
Finally they spoke, 
"Hey would you---" "I was wondering if you'd---" 
At once. 
A small awkward laugh left their lips, "Please, go ahead I was going to say something dumb---" Josh quickly said moving to rub the back of his neck. 
(Y/N)'s lips parted as she let out and unsure chuckle, eyes moving downwards for a moment. "I was just going to ask if you would mind if I joined you for lunch? I just am new and don't really have any---" 
"Yes!" Josh quickly said, "Yes absolutely. You didn't even have to ask, you could have just showed up if you wanted to!" He quickly says to her. 
The speed he seemed to talk at entertained (Y/N) a heck of a lot. A smile creeping across her face, "Okay! Thank you!" She responded. 
"Do you know where the cafeteria is? I can show ya if you want??" Josh quickly continued, "I mean I'm sure you could find it on you're own, you seem very smart and capable. Most women are to be honest; I remember reading an article about how men need to---" 
"That would be really great actually." (Y/N) smiled in a gentle way. 'He's even more nervous than I am.' She thought to herself. 
"Oh-oh! Okay cool! Uh, do you know where Mr.Shapiro's class is?" He asks, 
(Y/N) seemed to think for a minute, "113... right? I have him for chemistry this afternoon I think." She mutters. 
Josh swiftly nods his head, "That's the one!! Meet me there okay?" He says. 
(Y/N) nodded back, understanding the little plan they now had. "I'll see you in a little bit then?" She lightly asks. 
"Yeah absolutely." Josh began to grin, suddenly beyond excited. Even as she began to walk off to her class all he could think about was how sure he was now that this year was going to be fantastic. 
That was until a warning bell played overhead, "Oh shit--" Josh jumped in shock, immediately beginning to run to his next class.
//That's all for now lovely! I do actually have an idea on how to continue this one if anyone would like! Pretty please let me know in the comments if that's something you guys would like 💜//
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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years
Text
better for you
pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader
warnings: age gap, angst, language
word count: 2.7k
a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍
i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform
not my picture
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You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.
You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.
As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.
You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.
You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.
Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.
You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.
But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.
You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??
It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.
So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.
A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.
Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?
You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,
“Hello?”
You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”
You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”
“Have you watched the news today?”
You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”
Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”
You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?
“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”
You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.
You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.
chris💙, 11:01pm:
Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍
You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.
You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.
You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.
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When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.
You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.
When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.
You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.
5 missed calls
12 messages
You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.
You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.
will, 7:31am:
When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?
you, 7:32am:
i didn’t
yet
will, 7:32am:
You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?
You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.
you, 7:33am:
as you should(:
You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.
chris💙, 5:22am:
Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.
I’m so sorry
Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.
You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.
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As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.
You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.
You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.
chris💙, 6:15pm:
I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.
Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?
You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.
you, 6:17pm:
i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning
As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.
chris💙, 6:17pm:
Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?
Can I call you?
You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.
you, 6:18pm:
i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry
chris💙, 6:18pm:
Okay, I’m sorry
Good night
You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.
You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.
You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.
You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.
You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.
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You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.
As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.
When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.
As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”
Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”
“Ow… What the fuck?”
You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.
“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”
Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.
“What are you even doing here?”
Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”
You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,
“So, London seemed to be very fun.”
Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”
You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”
Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”
You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”
“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”
Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”
You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”
Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.
“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”
Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”
“What way?”
You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”
Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”
Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.
“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”
You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”
Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.
“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”
He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”
You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”
“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”
You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”
“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”
You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”
“And, baby, I’m sorry.”
You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”
Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”
Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”
You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,
“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”
Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”
305 notes · View notes
Text
Teach Me, Tease Me [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]
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A/N - this is for my Training Square on my CM Bingo Card for @cmbingo​ at least it is if you squint hard enough. CM Bingo Masterlist can be found here.
Really had an itch that needed to be scratched here in the form of Professor Spencer and a TA in training the reader. Just utter, utter filth. AKA - You are nervous enough for your first day of teaching training, and when you meet your new mentor, the incredibly attractive Doctor Reid, it only makes the situation more tense.
Masterlist for all fics can be found here.
CW - Age gap (Spencer’s late 30’s and reader is early/mid 20’s) dom! Spencer/ sub! Reader, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), female/male masturbation (mildly) some degradation, swearing. 
WC: 3.5K
Smoothing down your skirt and taking a few deep breaths in the hopes to calm your rattled nerves, you knocked on the door. 
Dr Spencer Reid’s reputation preceded him. Not only was he supposed to be an incredible lecturer in criminal psychology but he had fifteen years on the job experience with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. To learn from such a legend in his field was a dream come true to you. 
Getting accepted in a TA role at Georgetown had been an incredible achievement in itself but to be Spencer Reid’s TA, to be trained by this great man left you a bag of nerves. 
Your hands were shaking as you smoothed down your skirt again. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and then quickly untucked it again just as the door opened. 
You were met with a pair of intense hazel eyes. They belonged to a tall, slim man with messy hair as though he’d just gotten out of bed and the most sinful pair of lips you had ever laid eyes on.
You swallowed, trying to push down your attraction.
“Uhm...I’m sorry I just have the wrong office. I’m looking for Dr Reid.” You went to turn to leave because this man was far too attractive and you would no doubt end up making a fool of yourself but his voice caught you.
“You’re in the right place. I’m Dr Reid.” 
You tried to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. You had pictured Dr Reid to be a man much older than the one in front of you, either greying or balding and on the heavier side.
The Dr Reid in front of you was drop dead gorgeous. This had to be some kind of joke? How were you possibly supposed to learn when you were just getting lost in his eyes?
“You’re...you…” you stuttered, not being able to form words.
He laughed and it was such a magnificent sound you wanted to hear it every day for the rest of your life.
“You must be Y/N? My new TA?” His smile made your knees buckle and you hoped he didn't notice. 
His eyes glanced up and down your body and butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Your skirt suddenly felt too short and your shirt too tight. 
“Mmm hmm.” You mumbled, worrying if you spoke your voice would come out a high pitched squeak. 
He chuckled again and stepped back, creating a space for you to enter.
“Please come in.” He motioned for you to step inside his office. You slowly stepped inside, your legs shaking. 
This was the first step towards your dream job of lecturing at Georgetown and it was terrifying enough without your new mentor being the most attractive man you’d ever seen. 
“Take a seat.” Spencer smiled at you as he stepped behind his desk, taking his own seat. 
You chewed your lip as you made your way to the chair. His eyes never left you. You felt his eyes dance over your bare legs and up your thighs. Your palms were sweating under his intense gaze. 
You were thankful to sit down as you couldn’t be confident in your legs ability to hold you up right. 
“I’m very pleased to be here Dr Reid.” You croaked, feeling like you needed to say something, anything. 
Spencer leant his elbows on the desk, smiling across at you. 
“Please, call me Spencer.” 
“O-ok.”
“Are you ok?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “You seem...nervous.”
You were more than nervous. You were turned on. The way he was looking at you and the way he periodically licked his bottom lip was driving you crazy. 
“This is a big...opportunity for me.” Your words were punctuated with deep breaths and you knew Spencer noticed it. 
“As long as you're sure that’s all?” 
“Yes, it is.” You lied. 
“Ok good.” He smirked at you. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He wasn’t a big headed man, but he knew attraction when he saw it. 
He saw the way your chest heaved as you breathed, heavier even when he licked his lip. He saw the way your hands couldn’t stay still and the way you pressed your thighs together every now and again. 
He could hear it in your shaky words and staggered breathing.
And honestly, Spencer loved it. 
He didn’t think he’d ever had this effect on a woman before and it was enough to make him aroused. He already knew he wanted you, needed you. It was wrong, you were his TA, but the illicit nature of it made it hotter to him.
“So,” he sat back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Tell me about yourself Y/N.” He licked his lip again and watched your thighs press together once more. 
He wanted to put his head between those thighs. 
“Uhm...I’m not sure where to begin.” You breathing was heavy, breast heaving. 
He wanted those breasts in his mouth, he wanted to take your nippes between his lips and suck on them. 
You spoke but he didn’t hear your words. His head was entirely elsewhere. He had to think of a way to make you his. And he would. He was sure of it. 
He wouldn’t rest until he had you.
***
The next week you dressed more conservatively for work. Strictly pants and thick jackets. But it didn’t stop Dr Reid’s wandering eyes.
After the first few days you felt less nervous around him and actually you found yourself loving the effect you had on him. Today during a lecture he had dropped a pen on the floor and you’d picked it up for him, making sure to give him an eyeful of your backside. 
He’d stumbled over his words for a few minutes after that and you were left with an odd sense of pride.
After the first few weeks you started dressing less conservatively. Your pencil skirts came back out of hiding and sometimes you left an extra button on your shirt undone. 
Despite the obvious tension between the two of you, you were learning a lot from Dr Reid. He was incredibly smart and a wonderful lecturer. You found yourself hanging off his every word when he lectured and you could tell his students felt the same.
After a month of working with him, you were starting to get more friendly with one another. You would spend your free time on campus getting coffee and walking the grounds together while he told you stories of his time with the BAU. 
You were able to relax around him, make jokes and playful conversation. But there was still that underlying sexual tension that drove you both wild. 
That night Spencer had papers to grade and you offered to stay and help. 
You popped out to the campus coffee shop for some pick me ups and when you returned to his office his jacket was slung over the back of his chair, his tie undone and draped around his neck and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. 
It was such a sight you almost dropped the coffees but managed to steady yourself in time. 
“Ah my saviour.” He smiled up at you from a stack of papers. “Bring the chair around here, we can read together and you can tell me what you think.” 
Nervously you pulled the chair around next to him but not too close. Spencer laughed. 
“I don’t bite.” He smirked at you. Unless you want me to. 
You laughed nervously and shuffled a little closer. You picked up the paper on top of the stack and started reading over it.
Spencer’s eyes were on you the whole time and it made your concentration wane. His gaze was intense and focused on your mouth and you squeezed your thighs together. 
“You do that a lot.” His voice was low and breathy. 
You looked at him like a deer in headlights.
“Do what?” You croaked.
His eyes were trained on your lips and you had never wanted someone to kiss you more in your entire life.
“Squeeze your thighs together.” He leaned closer to you and you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Is it because of me?” 
“Spencer,” you whispered looking down into your lap.
“I know, I know.” He sighed. “You're my TA. I’m a lot older than you.”
“You’re not that much older than me.” You looked back up and your eyes met his. He was chewing his lip. 
“It’s wrong that I feel this way.” He swallowed. “But goddamnit Y/N, ever since you walked into my office I can’t stop thinking about you and all the things I want to do to you. But it’s wrong. But gosh that makes it so hot.” 
A surge of confidence came over you and you pushed your chest forward, leaning even closer to him.
“So what are you going to do about it, Doctor Reid?”
He hissed at your use of his honorific. 
“You are a tease, do you know that?” He growled. “A filthy fucking tease.”
“Maybe you should do something about it then.” 
Spencer couldn’t hold back any longer. He’d shown a hell of a lot of restraint this past month but he couldn’t do it anymore.
He grasped your face and closed the small space between you. Your lips finally met with blinding passion. You moaned at the sensation you’d been dreaming of for weeks. Spencer took advantage of this and his tongue thrust into your mouth. 
He pulled you into his lap and you straddled him as he deepened the kiss. You let him control you, you’d let him do anything to you, you were sure of it. 
His hands left your face and trailed down your sides before rounding your back. His fingers pushed your skirt up and then his large hands cupped your ass, squeezing tight. 
You moaned again, your hands diving inside his shirt to feel the hot skin of his chest. You started toying with his shirt buttons but Spencer broke the kiss and glared at you.
“Nuh uh.” He shook his head. “You lost your privilege to do what you want when you insisted on teasing me in class. You’ll do what I say, and only what I say. Understood?”
Oh god that was hot, you felt weak.
“Yes.”
“Yes who?”
“Yes Doctor Reid.” 
“That’s better.” He smirked. “Now get up.” 
You nodded, slipping off his lap and standing in front of him. 
Spencer stood from his chair, towering over you. 
“Bend over the desk.” 
You swallowed, nodding stiffly. You turned around and leant over the desk, your palms flat on the wood, sticking your ass up as high as you could.
Another hiss left Spencer’s lips. You felt him move close to you and press his body into yours. You could feel his hard dick in his pants pushing against your rear.
“You want that Y/N? Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” You croaked. “Yes please Doctor Reid.”
He laughed, his breath hitting your neck. 
“Well you’re going to have to wait.” 
You felt his hands on the backs of your thighs and his fingertips traced over your skin. He hoisted your skirt up again and hissed once more.
“Black lace panties, really Y/N?” He ran his fingers over the fabric. “This is underwear that is begging to be seen.” 
“Yes Doctor.”
“Who did you wear these for?”
“You Doctor Reid, only you.”
“Damn right.” He slapped his palm on your ass cheek, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. 
He leant into you again, his hands now on your stomach, making their way to your breasts.
He cupped your breasts through your shirt, palming them and applying pressure. 
“Perfect.” He groaned into your ear. “Just fucking perfect.” 
Suddenly he stood back again and you felt empty without his touch. For a few seconds the room was silent and you didn’t know what to expect. 
“Turn around.” He spoke again suddenly, startling you a little. 
You did as you were told, loving the way he was domineering you this way. 
His eyes trailed up and down your body, lingering on your chest. 
“Undo your shirt.” He growled at you. “I want to see you. That’s what you want isn’t it? My eyes all over your body. That’s why you dress this way you fucking tease.” 
His words made you so wet. He was usually so nice and so soft spoken so seeing this side of him was making your toes curl.
Once again, you did as you were told and started unbuttoning your shirt. You made sure to tackle the buttons slowly, really give Spencer a show. Once all the buttons were undone you shrugged your shirt off your shoulders.
Spencer took in the view of your breasts clad in a bra that matched your panties. He was chewing his lip so hard he could taste his own blood. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He hissed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever you want Doctor Reid.” 
“On your knees.” He instructed and you smirked to yourself, liking where this was heading. 
You got down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes.
“What do you want, Doctor?” You pouted, licking your lips. 
He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his slacks. The zipper slid down soon after and he pulled his dick free of the confines of pants and underwear. 
His was painfully hard, practically throbbing. He was big but you knew you could take him. 
You bowed your head and let your tongue lap over his swollen head making him groan in an animalistic fashion. 
“Is this what you want Doctor?” You breathed, making sure your breath hit his cock.
“You fucking know it is.” He growled. “Take me. Take all of me.”
You smirked up at him, knowing just the thought of his dick in your mouth was breaking down his tough facade. 
You took his command and wrapped your lips around his head before quickly moving down his shaft. 
He felt his dick hit the back of your throat and his hand flew to your hair, tugging hard. 
“Fucking hell.” His head fell back and his eyes closed. 
You smirked around his shaft as you started moving. You bobbed your head up and down his length but before long, Spencer started thrusting, practically fucking your mouth. And it was so hot.
He tugged your hair harder and harder as he thrust in and out of your warm, wet mouth. He forced his eyes open so he could watch his cock disappear in and out of your mouth.
“Touch yourself.” He grunted. You could taste his pre-come leaking from his head. “Now.”
You pulled your skirt up with one hand and moved your panties aside. Your finger danced on your wet clit, making you moan around Spencer. 
His eyes flicked between your mouth bobbing up and down around him and to your hand between your legs. 
It was almost too much for him but he wasn’t ready for this to be over. He startled you when he pulled back, removing his dick from your mouth. 
You stared up at him, your hand at a standstill on your core. You wanted to await Spencer’s instructions. 
“Are you wet?”
“So wet.” 
“Good.” He wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you up to your feet. He took your fingers in his mouth and moaned at the taste of you on his tongue.
“God you taste so fucking good.” Quickly he reached behind you and swiped his hands across the desk sending the paperwork flying. He took you by your shoulders and guided you back until your ass collided with the desk. 
He pushed you back so you were laying down and practically tore your skirt and panties off leaving you in just your bra and heels. He grabbed hold of your legs and swung them over his shoulders before he thrust into you with all his might.
You both moaned loudly as he filled you up. You were so tight and wet around him he almost blew his load then and there. 
He started his thrusts, hard and fast and frantic. With your legs on his shoulders the angle he was hitting you at was phenomenal. You arched your back and closed your eyes.
“Look at me.” He spat making your eyes shoot back open in an instant. 
He smirked, he loved how he had you wrapped around his little finger so easily. 
“Take off your bra.” He was panting now as he spoke, feeling dangerously close to the edge. He tried to steady himself, he wasn’t ready for this to be over just yet. 
You arched your back some more and reached your hand behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. It took longer than usual as Spencer was pounding into you, slamming you against the desk.
When it was unhooked you slid it off your arms and discarded it on the floor.
Spencer chewed his lip and hissed, taking you all in.
“Fucking hell.” He groaned. He let your legs slide from his shoulders to his waist so he could move closer to you. 
He bowed his head and wasted no time in taking your hard nipple in his mouth. He’d imagined sucking your tits countless times but nothing compared to the real thing.
He continued thrusting while using his teeth to really work you up. His fingers played deftly with your other nipple.
You were a complete mess beneath him, completely succumbed to him and his will. 
You moaned when his lips left your nipple but they stayed on your skin, sucking on the swell of breast. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to remember this for days to come. 
He sucked a mark on your other breast and then moved to your neglected nipple. He was so close he knew he couldn’t last much longer and judging by your stifled moans you were close too. 
He stood back up right so he could thrust deeper inside you. 
“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You fucking…tease.” His words were punctuated with moans. “Touch yourself. Touch that pretty little clit for me.”
You were compliant and slid your hand down your body between your legs. 
Spencer’s thrusts were becoming sloppy as you watched your fingers dance over your heat. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Between your fingers and Spencer’s dick hitting you in places you’d never experienced before, you couldn’t hold out any longer.
“Doctor,” you groaned. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna…”
“Come you fucking dirty tease. Come all over my dick.” 
Your orgasm washed over you and moaned incoherently. You tightened around Spencer as you came and it pushed him to his own orgasm. 
He moaned your name as he filled you up, lazily still thrusting. His face was flushed and slick with a sheen of sweat. 
He rode out his orgasm inside you and then he pulled out. He gently took hold of your wrists and sat you up on the edge of the desk. 
He cupped your face delicately, so far from the man he’d been mere seconds before.
“Are you ok Y/N?” His eyes were riddled with concern as he looked at you.
“I’m more than ok.” You smiled at him. 
He kissed you softly but it was only brief before he pulled himself away from you.
“Good. Now be a good TA and clear up this mess.” He gestured to the papers now scattered all over the floor. 
You nodded and went to reach for your discarded clothes.
“I didn’t say anything about getting dressed.” He smirked as he sat back in his chair, now soft dick still hanging out of his pants. 
You did as you were told and dressed only in your heels you started bending down to clear up the papers, making sure to put on a show of it.
You could feel his heavy gaze on you and it didn’t take long for his dick to start hardening again at the sight of your bare ass as you bent over.
“Such a tease.” He growled, his hand finding his shaft. You looked back at him as he started slowly pumping himself. “You’re a slut aren’t you Y/N? A filthy slut.”
You felt a sense of pride over what you were able to do to this gorgeous man. Teaching training was definitely going to be an interesting experience. 
“Only for you Doctor Reid.” You smirked. “Only for you.” 
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lizzielikeborden · 3 years
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TUA- How You Meet
Authors Note: I am starting preferences please feel free to leave a request about what preferences you would like to see :). 
(💙)
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Luther Hargreeves: You were wandering around a science and space museum with a friend. You had just gotten done with the more chemistry and experiment section and decided to go sit down in the cafe with the stars overhead. It was basically just a green screen but gorgeous none the less. Around the cafe there were exhibits of the moon and planets. No one was really around due to the time being quite early. But, there did happen to be one man in front of the moon. He looked massive compared to the stand next to him that explained what that specific diagram was about, but even to the size of the moon diagram itself. From the time you got breakfast to the time you ate it he just stood there. Your friend finished their food earlier than you and had to use the restroom so you waited there. The man still hadn’t moved, you went and stood next to him not wanting to sit alone at the table.  
“So, do you like the moon or all of space?” You kept eye contact with the moon diagram, not wanting to make the stranger uncomfortable. 
He didn’t acknowledge you at first but then he sniffled and moved his hand under his eye across his cheek, “I guess just the moon.” 
“Are you okay?” You turned toward him after hearing his voice crack and noticed how lightly swollen his face was. You felt bad that he was alone, because your food had at least taken 20 minutes and eating it was another 10 at best. So he had been there quite sometime, and he looked really upset.
“Uh yeah. I guess I am.” He smiled at you curving his lips towards mouth. He looked extremely tired and sad. But of course you didn’t know him and did not expect him to tell you his life story or even how his day was going right then. So instead you came up with the only thing you could think to do. 
“Well, I know this is crazy, but you’re here alone so I assume you’ll eventually get bored of hanging out next to the moon alone. So,” You pulled out a receipt and a pen from your little bag and used your thigh as a table, “Here’s my number, call anytime.” You passed the piece of paper to him and he took it. Your friend was sitting at the table, so you waved him goodbye and went back to them. 
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Diego Hargreeves: You were grocery shopping really late at night. You had neglected to do that all day, but got bored enough at about 9:00 PM, an hour before the store closed to go shop. When you pulled up to the parking lot there were only four cars, most likely a cashier, a stocker, and one other shopper. You settled for getting a basket and only getting what you really needed. Usually you would be wide awake at night, but lately stress has been making you tired at random times. Not to mention staying up until unreasonable hours in the morning and then only sleeping 2-3 hours. You were leaning against one of the fridge doors next to the water and milk. You only needed some bottles of water, maybe pop, and milk to cook with. However you were falling asleep right against it. Until you heard a voice, 
“Excuse me.” He opened the door you were leaning against thinking you would move. He assumed you were just leaning, not sleeping. 
You felt your body move and instead of catching yourself or even being close to be able to you fell on your butt. Everything in your basket tumbled around on the floor, thought not much it looked like quite a mess. Instead of getting up to pick them up you just laid your head down on the cold tile floor. 
“Oh my god, are you okay?” The man came over and looked over you, then got down on a knee and put two fingers on your neck to check your pulse. 
“I’m alive, just extremely exhausted.” You looked at him with lazy eyes with heavy eyelids. 
“Here.” He took your hand and you squeezed his, he helped pull you to your feet and picked up your things for you. He put them back in your basket and handed it back to you. 
“I’m Diego.” Your hand was in yours again and you held it, even though it was to shake. So he shook and you followed in suit. 
“I’m Y/N.” You let go of his hand and walked next to him. 
“I hope you don’t mind, but I am gonna make sure you make it to your car at least.” He walked with you as you made your way to the self checkout.
“Thanks superman, I could really use it.” You giggled at him as you finished up. Then you took the pen from the container next to the checkout and wrote down your address and number down on the empty part of your receipt. Then ripped it off the bottom. Diego walked you to your car and unloaded all your groceries into the trunk of your car. Before he could leave you grabbed his hand and said,
“If you ever wanna check on me or anything else here’s how to find me or get ahold of me.” 
He took the paper from your hand and smiled nodding at you. He took a step back from the car and you drove home. 
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Klaus Hargreeves: A groan came from behind the trash cans next to your apartment. You decided to take out the trash since the bag was ready to overflow. Though it may not have been a very smart or safe choice, you peeked around the corner. There you saw a grown man laying on the concrete, he looked pretty beat up. You took a few steps closer and noticed more bruises and blood on his skin. When you got close enough that he could see you he flinched and curled up into a ball with a groan.
“Hey, no, I’m not gonna hurt you. What happened?” You squatted down next to him and tried to coax him from his laying position that looked incredibly uncomfortable. He looked at your eyes and rolled over onto his back.
“Being sober fucking sucks.” He groaned and you reached out to give him a hand. He took it and sat up.
“I don’t think it sucks,” you chuckled, “I think whatever happened here is what sucks.”
“Hm. I guess you’re right,” he sighed and continued, “I was just walking home, no car, can’t drive. And I guess these big guys didn’t like what I was wearing because they were staring me down,” he put his hands around his eyes as if they were goggles and made his eyes big, “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking and barely grazed this guys arm. He lost it and then his buddies decided to join in.”
“Well, I can take you home or to the hospital. I have a car and I don’t think those guys will come back to break into my moving vehicle.” You stood up with his hand still in yours. He put his other hand on the ground and stood up letting you help him. 
“You’d really take me home?” He let go of your hand as you walked to the parking garage. 
“Yes? Of course I would. Do you want me to?” He followed behind you carefully and in pain. 
You ran over and unlocked your car, then opened the passenger side door and helped him in. You buckled his seatbelt and shut the door. Then got in the drivers side and started on your way out. 
“Where do you live?” You asked. 
“Take like two lefts from here, go straight, and it’s the first building on the right.” He pointed and made directions with his hands. 
You followed his instructions and he was dozing in and out of sleep next to you. You only lived about 15 minutes away from each other, when you arrived at his place of residency he was still asleep. 
“Hi, Uh, shit I don’t know you’re name but we’re here.” You lightly shook him on his shoulder. 
“My names Klaus, and thank you so much.” He took your hand and kissed it.
“I’m Y/N and you’re welcome. You know where I live and I know where you live so if you ever need me just ask for me at the front desk. I’ll be there.” 
He smiled and got out of his car. As you left he turned around and waved at you as you headed home. 
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Ben Hargreeves: The same page hours later is where you were. You had been sitting in the back of a book store with a book you had bought trying to read it. This particular book store was quite large and had section where it was more like a library. Of course the book store was quite busy and loud with young kids picking out their first book, comic book kids freaking out over some major finds, and the people who used the computers to watch videos without headphones. With all the noise and people to look at and hear you were absolutely beyond distracted. You were about the only person in the section other than a young man with headphones on that was reading a book about a band. You were so focused on these two little kids trying to pick out books you didn’t notice someone next to you. 
“Hey, we’re reading the same thing.” He spoke out, he sounded a bit nervous but kind as well. 
When you broke focus and looked over at him he was still looking at you with a goofy grin on his face. You took a look at the book he was reading and the two of you were in fact reading the same thing. 
“Looks like we are, I think I like your taste.” You commented back at him with a smile. He looked at you questionably,
“You think?” 
“Oh well. I haven’t gotten but a few pages in, I thought this would be a great place to read considering how beautiful it is and that they sell books. But, it’s crazy everywhere here.”
“Well, if you ever want a quiet place to read, I know a good one,” he took a deep breath in, “and if you want we could read together.” 
“I think i’d like that, we should hang out and read sometime, or do anything.” You spoke with a smile on your face.
“I’m Ben by the way, and if you can’t tell I don’t have many friends.” Ben was a bit awkward and clearly nervous. He had his hand in between the pages he was on and held the book that way. You could tell his hands were shaking underneath. 
“I’m Y/N and I couldn’t tell at all.” You giggled at him and put a hand out for him to shake. He lifted a shaky hand and took it gently to shake. 
“Not at all?” 
“Maybe just a little.” You let go of his hand that you both didn’t seem to realize you still hadn’t let go. 
“Here let me write down my number and uh that place I was talking about.” He looked around for a piece of paper and a pen. The longer he was taking the more red in the face he became. You took a pen out of your bag and held out your fist. 
“Here just write it on my hand. I’ll write it down when I get home.” He took your hand gently and wrote down everything he said he would. 
“Well, I better get home and write this somewhere it can stay.” You rose from your seat and waved him goodbye with your book that was in the same hand he had wrote on. 
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Five Hargreeves: 6:00 AM, a beautiful summer sun rise, and a cup of water in a coffee shop was all you needed. You had just finished writing one of the biggest papers ever and had spent all night trying to keep yourself awake. You were simply waiting for your body to crash, so you walked to the coffee shop and got a sweet treat and some water. You were the only one there, since they weren’t even open when you showed up. The bell above the door rang and the old lady who was waitressing had just started making some fresh donuts and coffee. 
“It’ll be done in just a moment.” She spoke kindly and continued to her baking. 
A young man dressed in what looked like a school uniform sat down next to you. He looked over and you and you returned his gaze. 
“Come here often?” He asked you, he turned to face forward instead of keeping eye contact. He had a light smirk on his face and he put his hands up on the table connected together by his fingers.
“No not really, do you?” You took a sip of your water and looked forward copying him. 
“Yes actually, all the time, well I used to at least. Just now getting back to being around here.” He tapped his right hand on the table, disconnecting it from the other one. 
The old woman came back over and put a mug of black coffee directly in front of him. He nodded his head and thanked her, picking up his cup he sipped at the coffee. 
“You drink black coffee? Just like that?” You questioned, you had never really seen anyone your age not put anything in their coffee.
“Yes.” He gestured toward his cup showing you that there was clearly nothing else in it.
“Hm. Never had it.” You drank the last of your water and sat the glass down. 
“Maybe you should come around here more, I’ll get you some to try.” He said looking at you again as you rose from your seat. 
“Maybe I will.” You smiled at him. 
“I know you will.” He smiled back and then turned back around.
He knows I will? What? You thought to yourself after stepping outside into the warm air. You thought he was quite weird, but that was the least of it. Just wait until the day you learned his name was Five. 
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Haikyuu!! Boys getting stuck places and having to ask you for help
Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou, Numai and Iizuna
**Today has been pretty bad, but my sister, @foodacoochie gave me this idea and it made me giggle and inspired🥺🥺 thanks dude💙**
Warnings: Drugs in Washio’s but they’re for a surgery and being used responsibly and for pain, just the boys getting stuck and not being able to get out of places/things lol
Akaashi Keiji:
Akaashi had been over at your house, you guys were ‘chilling’ and what not, just wasting the Saturday away.
Your family had recently done some renovations on your house, and one of those renovations was changing all of the door nobs.
Your mom had called you downstairs to come talk to your grandmother on the phone.
You knew that you’d be on the phone for a while, so you told Akaashi to do whatever until you got back. You had been gone for 5 minutes when Akaashi needed to use the bathroom.
Luckily, you had one connected to your room!
He walked in the door, shutting it behind him before he froze at the small ‘click’ he heard.
Whipping around he immediately tried the door nob, only to groan when he realized it was locked.
From the outside.
You see, you had insisted on putting the door nob on yourself, but when you did so, you had managed to put the lock on the wrong side of the door.
And when you showed him what you did, he could distinctly remember you locking the *then open* door.
So as soon as he shut it, it locked.
He sighed as he shook his head. He had also distinctly remembered you telling him it would be at the very least 30 minutes before your grandmother would let you go, so he was going to be here awhile.
He did his business then sat on the edge of the bathtub, sitting and waiting until you came back upstairs.
When you came back up to your bedroom, you were surprised to not see Akaashi sitting on your bed where you had left him. 
You softly called his name before hearing him sigh and a defeated sounding ‘in here’ from your bathroom.
You raised an eyebrow before trying the door nob, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realized you had locked the door.
Unable to hold in your giggles, you unlocked the door, almost snorting at the deadpan look your boyfriend gave you.
Washio Tatsuki: 
**he may seem out of character, but it’s because he just got his wisdom teeth out, and as someone who has recently had that done, I know that for some people their personalities do a 180 switch**
Washio had just had his wisdom teeth removed.
At first his mom was going to take him home, but she had to go into work, so you offered to take care of him and take him home from his surgery.
When they walked Washio out into the waiting room, you hurriedly walked over to him, because as soon as the nurses let him go, he started to go down. Giggling when you struggled to hold him up.
Now, keep in mind, Washio is a big guy. He’s 6′2 with a broad build and lots of muscle, so he’s not exactly light.
Seeing as he had just had a major surgery, he was very doped up on drugs, and seeing Washio drugged up was nothing short of hilarious.
He was very clingy and very giggly, laughing at anything he found remotely amusing. A night and day difference from his usually calm and stoic demeanor. 
After you somehow managed to get him in the car, you began to drive him back to his house.
You got to his house and pulled into the drive way.
Before you could help him out of the car, you had to make sure he had a clear path to the couch where he would be sitting.
You had left the keys in the ignition and the air conditioning on because it was a hot day, and let’s face it, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Walking back out to the car you went to open his door, only for the handle not to budge.
Your brows furrowed as you tried to open it, looking to the inside of the door only to see all of the doors locked.
...uh oh..
You knocked on the glass, gaining the attention of a very drowsy looking Washio who just lazily waved when he saw you.
You, who had no way to actually get to him, started frantically pointing to the unlock button, him looking at you like you had grown 3 heads.
He finally tried the door handle, only to find it didn’t open.
You could faintly make out the words ‘i’m stuck’, when he realized he was ‘stuck in the car’.
You watched as he grew more and more frustrated with the door not opening.
You were pointing to the unlock button, him then pressing every button except for the unlock button.
Thankfully, he pressed the window button, rolling it down so you could reach your hand in and unlock the door, finally being able to help him inside.
Konoha Akinori:
Not everyone knows this about your boyfriend, but he is very competitive.
He just so happens to have a younger sister, who is also very competitive.
On this particular day you had been over at his house, his sister had been in the living room with you guys when a movie about dancing or whatever came on.
Konoha jokingly scoffed when the ballerina did the splits, stating that “I could do that” while you rolled your eyes, but his sister laughed, “Yeah okay boomer.” 
Glaring Konoha turned towards his sister, who simply narrowed her eyes back at him, “What was that?” She stood her ground, you nervously watching from the sidelines.
“Boomer, and I stand by it. You have the flexibility of an 80 year old man.” He narrowed his eyes at her before he laughed, standing up and walking to the middle of the floor.
Without any warning he, albeit slowly, fell into the splits, cringing when he got like 5 inches away, entire body shaking.
“s-see?” His sister was laughing as he stayed there, high pitched sounds of pain escaping him.
He, finding himself unable to stand or move for that matter, continued to suffer, heavily contemplating every decision he had ever made.
“y/N, hELp”
Kita Shinsuke:
Kita was very responsible, so you never had to worry about him getting himself into silly situations he couldn’t get himself out of.
But, everyone has their moments.
You and Kita were spending the day with his grandmother!
You guys had gone through old photo books, and made some desserts, now she wanted to teach you and Kita how to finger knit!
It seemed easy enough, and in no time you had gotten the hang of it and were on your way.
Kita however, was having a little more trouble.
He had gotten how to wrap it around his fingers and how to pull it but...
Somewhere along with way, he messed up.
And he messed up bad.
He didn’t really know how it happened, but before he was aware of it his fingers were caught in a tangled web of yarn, somehow he managed to knot both of his hands together, eye brows furrowed as he looked down to his hands.
You held in your laughter when you saw him, hopelessly caught in strings, as he tried to figure out how to get out of them.
It took 20 minutes and both you and granny to release him from his self-made prison.
He stuck to a different activity after that.
Suna Rintaro:
You had a big project coming up, but your boyfriend did not, and wanted to hang out with you.
You, who also wanted to hang out with him, let him as long as he let you work.
He promised he would cause no such distraction and be like a fly on the wall.
That doesn’t mean you believed him, but it was nice he made an effort.
Anyway, after just under an hour he got bored just scrolling through instagram.
So, he got up from his position on your bed and sauntered over to your vanity where he sat.
You didn’t pay him much mind, he was 16 so it’s not like you had to babysit him.
Er- you shouldn’t have to babysit him.
Fiddling around with the things on your desk, he stumbled across the small dish you kept your rings in.
There was one ring in particular that really stuck out to him.
It had a silver band and a dark blue gem, it was really pretty. He remembered you saying you didn’t wear it often, but he couldn’t remember why so he just shrugged and slipped it on his left middle finger.
He had been holding his hand up, looking at it, cause it really was a pretty ring.
All was fine, all was nice, until he tried to remove the ring. Then, some problems were presented.
The most prevalent of those problems being the ring was stuck, like really stuck.
And the second being he remembered why you didn’t wear the ring a lot, it was a size too small, for you.
So it was much too small for him.
Claiming defeat he called your name, defeatedly holding up his hand, and cringing as you called his name.
Ushijima Wakatoshi:
The team had finished practice and were fooling around in the locker room, making stupid bets and doing stupid things
Underestimating just how competitive (and curious) their captain was, Tendo and Yamagata bet 25 dollars Ushijima couldn’t get into a locker, Kawanishi and Shirabu each bet 35 dollars saying he could, and Reon bet 45 saying he would get stuck.
Being genuinely curious what would happen, and being heavily encouraged by his teammates, Semi found an empty locker, rigging it open before ushering the ace in.
It was quite small, and not a comfortable experience at all, but he was also never one to turn down a challenge.
So after some major manipulation and hitting his head, he got fully into the locker.
Tendo and Yamagata forked over their 25 dollars, imploring Reon to do the same before Reon shook his head.
“Let’s see if he can get out before I pay my money.”
All eyes were back on the ace, whose eye brows were furrowed in...concern.
He was stuck.
Bad.
Not wanting to face the wrath of the demon coach, they called the next best candidate to deal with this kind of situation, Ushijima’s girlfriend, you.
Your jaw dropped when Semi told you that your boyfriend was stuck in a locker because...hOw?!?!
Reon made a lot of money that day~
Yahaba Shigeru:
He had been over at your house and the two of you were taking a nap in your bed.
You had both since woken up, and were now on your phones.
You, still very sleepy, weren’t paying attention and before you or Yahaba could stop it your phone had slipped down the crack between your bed and the wall.
You groaned as you dragged your hand down your face, Yahaba, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, offered to get it for you.
He laid on his side as you used his phone to shine the flashlight down the side of your bed.
He stuck his arm down, but it was just barely too short.
Without realizing it he had slipped to the very small edge of the bed, inevitably slipping off only to be caught between the wall and your bed.
He groaned as he felt like he had been stuck to a wooden plank, unable to move any parts of his body.
You felt terrible, seeing as he had offered to get your phone for you and had proceeded to get himself stuck.
You grabbed his arm and shifted yourself to the opposite side of your bed, and after lots of tugging and sounds of pain from your boyfriend, you were able to roll him back onto the bed.
You rolled your eyes with a smile as he waved your phone in the air, a dorky smile on his lips as he had, despite being put in a very uncomfortable situation, managed to get your phone.
Iwaizumi Hajime:
Hanamaki had bought this bag of ‘tricks’ from the dollar store, for fun and what not.
One of the things that had been in there was a Chinese finger trap.
He brought a few of the things into his bag, hoping to trick at least one of the members.
But most of all he wanted to trick Iwaizumi, if nothing else he thought it would be funny.
So, when the Seijoh 3rd years met for lunch in the club room, and you, Iwiazumi’s girlfriend had of course joined them, he decided then was the perfect time to try.
“Yo, Iwaizumi! C’mere!” Iwaizumi, recognizing the teasing tone in Hanamaki’s voice, was instantly on guard, expecting something crazy to be suggested.
“What?” Hanamaki smiled, pulling the finger trap out of his bag, Iwaizumi looked at it, raising an eyebrow at the wing spiker.
“I heard no one has ever been able to put two fingers in this at the same time without getting trapped.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, grabbing the trap from Hanamaki and mindlessly stuck on finger in each end of the trap.
Just a few seconds prior, you had looked over Hanamaki’s shoulder, recognizing the trap, but before you could warn your dear boyfriend, he had already stuck his fingers in the trap, and pulled it, tight.
“Hajime...do you know what that is?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing when he tried to pull his fingers out, only to have the trap get tighter. 
“Hajime, it’s a Chinese finger trap!!” Iwaizumi’s eyes widened before he turned his head to glare at Hanamaki, curses ready on his tongue as Hanamaki and Matsukawa just about died of laughter, Kunimi snickering in the background.
It took 4 people and approximately 7 minutes to free him from the trap.
Futakuchi Kenji: **in tribute to my dear sister who locked herself out of her bathroom today🥰**
You and Futakuchi had gone to the beach with your family for the weekend, and the two of you were relaxing on the beach.
The beach had these lounge chairs, the ones that fold?
Well, you and Futakuchi were getting everything set up, he had just finished setting up the umbrella and you had laid out a large towel and set the bags down.
You guys both sat down and enjoyed the warm sun, and relaxed to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
About an hour later, Futakuchi decided he wanted a drink, and after asking what you wanted he left on his way.
Unknown to him, these chairs were really tricky.
They were good chairs and really comfortable, but you had to be careful how you sat in them.
After about 10 minutes he returned with the drinks, setting them down on the small cooler.
He went to sit on the lounge chair, expect that he more like flopped onto it, and before he could react the thing had snapped in two, you sitting up after hearing your boyfriend yelp.
You turned your head to see your boyfriend, squished in half by the lounge chair, with no signs of being freed.
After recruiting the help of your dad and a few kind passerby's, you were eventually able to free him of the lounge chair...
but that was after you took a picture and sent it to Aone.
Daishou Suguru:
You and Daishou had been on a date, nothing too fancy, just strolling around the city and what not.
You were just talking about random things when your eye spotted an empty park nearby.
You smirked as you nodded towards it, dragging your boyfriend towards it, you knew he couldn’t resist you if he tried.
You two were just fooling around, him chasing you around and you evading him like you both were 5 and it was ‘boys vs girls’ tag.
You had ran away from him when you spotted the set of toddler swings, y’know, those ones with the leg holes?
Yeah, those ones~
Anyway, you decided not to get in one because ✨danger✨
But your boyfriend took that as a challenge.
Without warning he grabbed the chains and jumped, sliding his legs through the very small holes and sinking into the seat.
You slapped his arm as you laughed, hand on your hip as you judgmentally looked at him.
“You’re gonna get stuck, there’s no way you’re getting out of that by yourself.”
He rolled his eyes, smirk still present on his face as he started to slowly swing back and forth.
You shook your head, shifting your weight to one leg as your arms crossed in front of your chest.
“Okay then, now try to get out.”
He rolled his eyes at your tone, grabbing the chains as he tried to pull himself up.
Only to bring the seat with him.
Your eyes widened as it set in, his smirk disappearing and his own eyes widening when he realized it as well.
He was stuck.
And at that moment, some of the Nekoma boys volleyball team members just happened to be passing by.
Kuroo’s laugh rang throughout the park as you desperately tried to free your boyfriend.
Numai Kazuma:
You and Numai were hanging out at your house, it was Halloween night and you guys were just gonna chill out and watch some movies and eat candy.
But before that, you guys were going to take your younger brother out trick or treating!
Your little brother decided he wanted to be a cowboy, and his outfit came with a pair of plastic handcuffs.
You were helping your little brother get his costume on while Numai messed around with the handcuffs.
He had latched one side onto the table leg, mindlessly scrolling through his phone as he fiddled with the cuffs.
He doesn’t know what came over him, but without thinking he latched the empty side of the handcuffs onto his wrist, tightly onto his wrist.
He didn’t think much of it, until it sunk in.
Had he really just done that??
You were fixing your brother’s costume when you heard your boyfriend call your name.
“Uh, Y/n?” You hummed, continuing to work on his costume.
“Where’s the key to the handcuffs?” 
“Oh, they got thrown away with the package, that’s why I set them..over...there..Kazuma.”
You turned around to see him nervously smiling while his hand was indeed handcuffed to the coffee table.
You blanched as you remembered the trash had already been taken out, so they key was gone.
Glaring at your boyfriend you sighed, shaking your head before you started to laugh, hiding your mouth as you continued to laugh at his misfortune.
Eventually you did help him.
It took 3 tries and 4 different tools, but with the help of your dad you were able to get his wrist free of the handcuffs.
Iizuna Tsukasa:
Iizuna has 2 sisters.
1 older sister, and 1 younger sister (ayyyee middle children let’s go-)
You just so happened to be very good friends with your boyfriends sisters, and you guys often had a lot of fun together~
One of the wats you guys had fun was messing with your boyfriend.
Todays scheme: Dress Tsukasa up as a girl. Simply because you could.
And seeing as he lost a bet to you the other day, he couldn’t refuse it.
Luckily, his older sister had a dress she accidentally ordered in a size too big, it would still be snug on him, but it would do the job.
His older sister did his make up, you worked on his outfit as the youngest fixed his hair, him sitting through the whole ordeal trying not to take away too much trauma from it.
Leaving the room so he could change, you all patiently waited as he got changed into the dress, laughing at the pained noises he made as he slipped on the dress and shoes.
You couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as your boyfriend stumbled out of the room, heels way too small and dress uncomfortably tight.
You all snapped the pictures you needed and he sacrificed what was left of his dignity.
Waving off you three, he hobbled back into his room, kicking off the heels and attempting to pull the dress over his head.
I say attempting because as he tried to move his arms to grab it he made a very disturbing realization.
He couldn’t grab the hem of the dress...
he couldn’t even reach behind him.
He was stuck.
And the only ‘help’ he had was his sisters and his girlfriend. 
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