#i’m fine. just holding this ideas in my hand like matches and shaking them

[jobean12-blog]

Fancy Restaurant

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 2,457

Summary: Nat works her magic and 'accidentally' double books you and Bucky for babysitting. The kids don't want either of you to leave so you end up babysitting together and thanks to some imaginative play the night progresses perfectly.

Author's Note: I definitely took inspiration for this from the Bluey episodes "Fancy Restaurant and Double Babysitter." It just seemed like such a fun idea! Steve and Nat's kids are about the same ages as Bingo and Bluey, 4-5ish and 6-7ish. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: super sweet fluff and fun, Bucky's a little shy at first but by the end he knows exactly what he's doing.

“Almost ready?” Steve asks from the doorway of the bedroom.

Nat turns and smiles. “Just five minutes.”

The doorbell rings.

“We’ll get it!” their two daughters, Lily and Rose, yell simultaneously.

The sound of slapping feet and giggles disappears down the stairs before you hear them scream, “UNCLE BUCKY!”

“My two favorite girls!” Bucky coos as he kneels down to embrace them. “Ready for lots of junk food, scary movies and staying up late!?”

Lily and Rose nod their heads vigorously and don matching grins.

“There will be none of that,” Steve tsks as he walks into the foyer, hands on hips.

“AW DADDY!” Lily whines.

“You’re no fun!” Rose adds.

Steve just scoffs as Nat walks in with a confirming smile.

“I just love it when you all gang up on me,” Steve grumbles.

Nat pats him on the back sympathetically and Bucky chuckles.

“Alright you two. Off you go,” Bucky says. “We’ll be just fine. Have fun!”

Just as Steve is helping Nat into her coat the doorbell rings again. Everyone, but Nat, turns with confused expressions before Steve and Bucky exchange questioning glances.

“Nat?” Steve asks.

She shrugs nonchalantly and opens the door.

“Hey babe,” Nat says as she greets you and holds her arms open.

You smile brightly and rush in to hug her.

It takes you a moment to realize you have an audience and when your eyes lock on Steve’s puzzled face your brows furrow.

The girls momentarily distract you when they start squealing in happiness and tug at your pants in greeting. You kneel down to squeeze them both before asking Nat, “what’s going on? What did I miss?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Steve says with a warm smile as he hugs you.

Bucky just stands to the side, his eyes glued to you and his mouth hanging open.

“Nothing!” Nat exclaims excitedly. “Steve and I are leaving.”

“Ok! You two have fu…” you trail off when your eyes land on Bucky.

“Did you double book?” you whisper to Nat.

“Double book?” she repeats, feigning misunderstanding.

Bucky clears his throat and wipes his palm on his jeans before extending his hand.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he says.

You introduce yourself, noticing the way his cheeks turn pink when your skin touches his.

Steve drops his head with a shake then looks to his wife who’s standing there looking smug.

“I didn’t realize you already had a sitter,” you say. “I can go?”

“NO!” Steve, Nat, Bucky and the girls screech.

“You should definitely stay,” Nat says.

“Of course, the girls would be so disappointed if you left,” Steve adds.

“WE WOULD!” Rose says in her sweet voice. “Please stay!”

“YES you have to stay!” Lily pleads. “Now we can play fancy restaurant!”

The two girls squeak with excitement before rushing off with a yell. “We’re going to set it up!” 

Steve and Nat finally get out the door and leave you and Bucky standing there.

“So,” Bucky starts and rubs the back of his neck.

You smile and move toward the kitchen.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” you ask him.

“No,” he sighs while he pats his stomach. “But I’m starving!”

Your gaze falls to his large hand spread across his abs, the soft fabric of his Henley pressing against his muscles and accentuating them.

When your eyes move upward you catch him wearing a smirk and quickly turn your focus to the cabinets for food.

“I’m sure I can find something quick and easy to make,” you assure him.

As you move around the kitchen and pull things from the fridge and cabinets Bucky follows you, offering help where he can and asking you about how you met Nat.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” you ask him.

His eyes wander over your features, lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he blinks and says, “no way. I would definitely have remembered.”

You capture your bottom lip between your teeth and continue mixing the mac and cheese and when you steal a look his way you can see the pink color on his cheeks just above the dark scruff of hair.

A loud crash from the girls playroom alerts you both and Bucky quickly stands.

“I’ll go check on them.”

You finish up the mac and cheese and serve it into two bowls then set them on the table.

He returns just in time.

“They were just trying to set up the table for their restaurant,” he explains.

“I love how imaginative they are,” you muse. “They always come up with fun ideas!”

Bucky agrees before pulling out your chair.

“Thanks for cooking,” he says. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“No problem and great!”

You sit and dig in, enjoying the easy conversation the flows between the two of you.

The girls rush back in the kitchen just after Bucky places the last dish on the drying rack.

“READY!?” Rose asks, her tiny hands clasped together and a chef hat sitting crooked on her head.

The apron she’s wearing is tied haphazardly at her waist and there are several toy utensils sticking out of the pockets.

You and Bucky exchange a smile.

“We’re ready!” you tell the girls.

Lily whispers something in Rose’s ear before Rose rushes off with a giggle.

“That was our chef,” Lily explains. “The restaurant is just this way.”

She holds out her hand and waits for you and Bucky to follow.

“You have to hold hands,” Lily says as she walks you two toward the play room.

Bucky’s eyes go wide and he turns to you.

“Mommy and daddy always hold hands on dates!” Lily exclaims.

You give Bucky a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“I definitely don’t!” he says and holds out his hand.

You take it and walk the rest of the way hand in hand.

Lily runs ahead and stands behind a makeshift pile of books, turning over some papers. You and Bucky stop in front of her and she states, “welcome to our fancy restaurant. Do you have a reservation?”

“Ummm,” Bucky starts. “Yeah, two for Barnes,” and he looks at his watch. “Six pm.”

Lily runs her finger down the paper. “I don’t see a Barnes here,” she says.

Bucky looks nervously to you then back at Lily.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

Lily sighs. “Did you call to make a reservation?”

“Oh,” Bucky says. “No, I didn’t! Is that bad?”

“YES!” both Lily and Rose yell. “But don’t worry,” Lily continues in a whispered voice, “you can just call now.”

Bucky stands there, clearly unsure of how to handle this and you think quick, reaching with your free hand into the back pocket of his jeans to pull his phone free.

You poke him in the chest with it. “Quick call!” you whisper shout. “I’m hungry!”

The girls giggle and watch Bucky.

“Uh…RIGHT!” he says and pretends to dial his phone.

“Hello, fancy restaurant. How can I help you this evening,” Lily says as she picks up her Minnie Mouse phone.

“Hi,” Bucky answers. “I’d like to make a reservation please.”

“Certainly,” Lily responds. “How many?”

“Two for James Barnes.”

“James?” Rose chimes from behind the play kitchen. “Who’s James?”

Bucky laughs. “That’s my first name but your dad has been calling me Bucky since we’re kids so it kind of stuck.”

Rose shrugs and Lily pretends to scribble something on the paper. “Great,” she says.

She hangs up the phone and repeats her welcome from earlier.

“Barnes for two,” Bucky states.

“Ah yes!” Lily sings. “Right this way.

In all the commotion you and Bucky stopped holding hands and when Lily realizes she stops short and puts her hands on her hips, a mirror image of her father, and gives you both a stern look.

“HANDS!” she shouts.

Bucky reaches over and takes your hand, gently stroking his thumb across your knuckles.

“If I knew I had a date tonight I would have dressed the part,” you lean over and whisper to him.

His lips lift into a boyish smirk. “You look perfect doll.”

Lily pulls his attention away and he misses the way his words make you react.

The table that’s set up is kid size and after Bucky pulls out your chair he sits in his and it makes you nearly fall over with laughter.

“What?” he asks with a grin.

“Oh my god,” you giggle.

Lily and Rose join you tableside.

“Would you like to hear the specials?” Rose asks.

“Sure,” Bucky answers.

“You’re still supposed to be holding hands,” Lily says. “On the table.”

“Oh!” you say and reach your hand across for Bucky’s. “Like this?”

“Perfect!” Lily says with a satisfied smile. “Now Chef Rose. The specials please.”

Rose rattles off a list of random food pairings that have you and Bucky trying not to burst out laughing. You somehow hold it together and place your orders, watching as the girls run off toward their play kitchen.

“This is already the best date I’ve been on,” Bucky says.

“Me too!” you agree. “The service is amazing!”

You say the last part loud enough to make sure the girls can hear it and their excited squeals warm your heart.

“I mean it,” Bucky says. “I’m having a great time.”

After he admits that out loud you can tell he’s slightly embarrassed so you’re quick to assure him you are too.

Lily brings over play plates and utensils and periodically checks in as you wait for your ‘food’ to be prepared.

The ease of your conversation with Bucky makes you feel comfortable and safe and the more you talk to him the more you like him.

Rose joins Lily for the presentation of the food and both you and Bucky are impressed with the spread.

“Wow this looks delicious!” he says eagerly.

The girls look pleased and excuse themselves in a flurry of fancy bows and unintelligible mutterings.

You and Bucky pretend to eat the food, laughing and sharing stories. Lily sneaks over and whispers, “don’t forget to feed each other!”

She tip toes away and you can feel her staring.

“She’s watching and waiting isn’t she?” you ask Bucky.

He subtly nods and pretends to scoop his spaghetti. He holds up the small fork and you laugh again, the pink plastic tiny in his hand.

You lean forward and he meets you half way, pretending to feed you a bite. A cheer erupts from behind you and the girls yell, “again!”

After sharing more bites and a special ‘fancy’ dessert Lily and Rose present Bucky with the bill.

“Hope you enjoyed your meal doll,” he says to you. “I know I did!”

“It was delicious!” you exclaim. “We definitely have to come back!”

Lily escorts you toward the door of the play room, instructing you once again to hold hands and bids you farewell.

While you and Bucky are strolling down the hall you hear the girls whispering to each other and Bucky squeezes your hand.

“I don’t think the date’s over,” he mutters.

You cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.

Rose skips over and stops in front of you and Bucky so you have to stop walking.

“Time for a smoochy kiss!” she says happily.

“YES! YES! Smoochy kiss time!” Lily sings.

Bucky looks down at the two girls and kneels so he’s eye level.

“Aw girls,” he says, “I’m not sure we can do that.”

“But” Rose says, her eyes big and shining. “Daddy and Mommy always smoochy kiss!”

You tug on Bucky’s shoulder and he stands again. You smile at the girls and lean up to press your lips to his cheek.

“There,” you say. “How’s that?”

Two sets of pouty lips turn to you and their tiny voices say in unison, “that’s a cheeky kiss! Not a smoochy kiss!”

Bucky wraps his fingers around your biceps and studies your face.

“Maybe if I give you one?” he says, his tone questioning.

You nod and wait for the press of his lips to your skin, closing your eyes briefly and opening them to find him staring at your lips.

The girls stomp and whimper, clearly not satisfied.

“Might as well give them what they want,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer to him.

His right hand slides up your arm and grazes the curve of your neck before he cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb at the corner of your mouth.

He dips his head as his metal hand slides around your waist and splays across your lower back. His dark eyelashes lower and he moves closer. Your fingers grasp at his Henley and you give him a little tug.

“Bucky, you can kiss me now.”

He nods lightly and his nose bumps yours, his lips hovering so close you can feel his warm breath.

“I hope I can keep this PG,” he whispers before pressing his lips to yours.

Your hands glide up to his shoulders and then to the back of his neck, fingernails gently scraping along his hair when he pulls you so close there isn’t a breath of space left between you.

The sounds of the girls screeching and screaming finally pulls you out of the kiss and you bury your face in his neck.

“THAT…” Rose starts with sparkling eyes, “was the best smoochy kiss EVER!!!”

“Can you do it again?” Lily asks, dancing in place.

You giggle and peck Bucky on the lips.

“Girls it’s just about time for bath and bed,” you tell them.

“Aww but we want to keep playing fancy restaurant,” Rose whines.

“I know. But we can play in the bath and then I’ll read you a bedtime story! Any one you want!”

The two girls beam up at you and then look at Bucky.

“You’ll play too Uncle Bucky, right?” Rose asks.

“Of course!” he says. “But first you two have to clean up.”

They groan but agree with shuffling feet and head back to the play room.

You watch them go until you feel Bucky’s eyes on you. When you turn to face him he grabs your hand and pulls you around the hallway and presses you against the wall.

“One more smoochy kiss?” he asks.

“Yes,” you murmur and meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“They’re smoochy kissing again!” Rose squeals!

“They do it way better than mommy and daddy!” Lily giggles. “I can’t wait to tell them!”

“We’re never gonna hear the end of this doll,” Bucky winks.

“I think this is exactly what they wanted,” you whisper.

“You’re exactly what I want,” he says before kissing you again. “And I plan on getting as many kisses as possible after those two go to bed.”

@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

[luveline]

also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 

“Yeah, babe.” 

“No thanks.” 

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 

“I’ll have socks.” 

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 

“Why?” 

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 

“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 

“No shoes,” Amy says. 

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

OKAY IVE GOT A REALLY CHAOTIC IDEA THATS BEEN ROTATING IN MY BRAIN FOR AGES BRJDFIF

M6 sharing a living space - and I’m not talking one of Nadia’s palaces where they can avoid each other, but like, a tiny safe house or something like that

Imagine the chaos 😭

Vesuvia Weekly: A Date With Disaster

"So, it's settled, then." You stand up and dust off your hands. "We're ... going camping ... all seven of us ... together ... in one tent."

"It would seem so." Nadia looks down her nose at her tea in poorly concealed disgust. "I'll make a note to bring a fair amount of wine."

"Can you double that?" Asra asks from the floor. Muriel, sulking in the corner nearby, seems seconds away from breaking his characteristic silence to ask if the amount could be tripled.

"C'mon, Noddy, nobody likes a party pooper!" You can see the bead of sweat trickling down Lucio's temple, but you appreciate his skewed levels of optimism for once. Portia takes her cue from him.

"Yeah, this isn't all bad! We can bring snacks, and games, and - ooh! I call sleeping next to MC!"

"Pasha, noooo ~" You don't think you've ever heard Julian sound so whiny in your life, but nothing brings out someone's inner child like the person they grew up with. "I wanted to sleep next to MC."

"You can always take their other side -"

"I'm calling it." Asra grins smugly up from Nadia's carpet. The Countess in questions meets their eyes with a sly smirk.

"If I recall correctly, you and our darling MC have been sharing sleeping arrangements for the last several years at least. I shall occupy their other side."

Asra shrugs. "Fine. I'll be their pillow, then."

"WHAT -" Lucio screeches. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Muriel silently holding the door open for a speedy escape. The two of you slip out practically unnoticed, just as you catch the tail end of Julian's demands.

"In that case, I volunteer to keep their feet warm -"

You glance up at the silent shadow next to you as he guides you through the fastest route out of the Palace.

"Did you have any requests?"

"Me?" He looks down at you in surprise, and then turns away with a pout. "No. I'll be sleeping across the door."

You laugh. "So you can be the first to escape?"

He shakes his head as you part ways. "So I can keep guard."

Well, you think, here goes our date with disaster -

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

Notable highlights of the trip:

Lucio figured out how to grill meat over the fire on his metal hand. He did not figure out how to wash the residue off

Everyone discovered Julian's fear of the dark as soon as Nadia turned off the last lantern and he immediately latched onto your feet, causing you to reflexively kick out and accidentally igniting a short, tent-wide wrestling match

Portia brought so much homemade food you were almost tempted to stay an extra day and finish it all. You did not.

Nadia's insomnia made a fierce comeback as soon as she was sleeping in a flimsy bag with cloth for walls and uneven ground underneath. She was very grumpy and uncharacteristically disheveled in the morning

Muriel accidentally stumbled on a lost baby squirrel, which promptly imprinted on him and followed him around everywhere. Portia and Lucio both threw whining fits when he couldn't force it to like them or willingly sit in their hands

Asra "accidentally" tripped Lucio right next to a cold, muddy spring and then so happened to have a change of clothes in his size - which is to say, an adult-sized goat onesie. They also had onesies for everyone else, including a puppy one for you!

[grapejuicestyless]

part 2 for so long london w/ a happy ending please I loved it sm😭😭

loml.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: After nearly a year apart and an album later, turns out you and Harry aren’t doing as well as you let off to be. Part 2 to So Long, London

Seeing him across the room even after all this time sends chills down my spine. I recall the warm feeling of his hands against my spine and the smell of gunpowder as he aims his pistol at my heart.

It’s funny seeing him now that he’s written down his feelings and published them like a diary for the world to read. I know more about his heart than he led me on to know. I know how he claims to have felt shattered inside with the realization he lost the “love of his life” and how we walked the fine line between being perfect and violently broken. But really, what is perfect when it comes to us?

He wrote down some things I just can’t unabsorb. His songs turning me into more of an idea of sorts. It felt like watching the story of our love from afar. The details were there, but they weren’t quite right. He writes about how we danced in the kitchen listening to trash pop music, but he leaves out the way we always stumbled over the chipped tile by the counters. Does he remember how he’d lead us there purposely so he could wrap his arms around my cold body and save me?

Seeing him now I can feel his eyes drift to mine every couple seconds, his gaze burning into my side profile while I down another glass trying to shake the feeling.

I feel stupid now, seeing him at our best friend’s wedding. He’s in a suit and tie, his hair curled around his eye and a red tint from the sun on his cheeks. I feel even more stupid wearing a green dress on the opposite side of the alter, holding flowers and smiling at how the bride and groom promise themselves in sickness and in health.

I’m not stupid though, I can hear the whispers about how we almost had it all. The flowers picked out from the catalog dull in comparison to the ones we had picked out for each other by the third week together. When I sit with the bridesmaids, I hear their snickers at the bride, how lucky she is to be the first married, how they always thought it would have been me.

But I’m a good friend, and a damn good actress. I can paste on a smile and act like the jokes they sneak into their speeches about how they never saw it coming, telling stories about the newlyweds that should have been about us are funny. But I can’t help the way I start to sweat when they begin to quote the same words Harry had written down for me.

All of our love story written down for the public to use, words he penned on the paper with my face in mind belong to someone new now, “I love you’s” whispered between couples who once dreamed of having a love like ours.

“I remember meeting you in September of last year, you were wearing a yellow dress and red shoes. You didn’t match, but you made it look good. I thought you were beautiful, I just had to have you. And when you decided to go for a guy like me, I knew you were the one instantly. Just like our good friend Harry once said, ‘She’s an angel, my only angel.’” I don’t listen to his heartfelt speech anymore, I can’t even look at the smile on my friends face as he serenades her anymore, I feel like someones just ripped out my heart and claimed it as their own.

And like someone was praying for me to cry, to finally break and show everyone just how not okay I am, his eyes are on mine, and he’s not looking away. When my eyes catch his, I mentally curse myself, wishing I could sink into the seat beneath me. I excuse myself to use the bathroom, grabbing the bottom of my dress to make down the long hallways of the beautiful venue that should have been ours.

“Y/n.” His accent is thick in the foggy room, eyes dimmer than I remember. He runs after me, voices from the reception muffled by the walls put between us.

My eyes trace over his body, studying the way he sighs out my name. Can he hear my heart crashing down as I realize I’ve lost my touch? I cannot tell if he’s relieved or obligated to be standing so close.

I swallow hard, his english accent drawing me back to the place I once loved so much. My new home dulls in comparison to what we once had, and I can’t help but still hold a grudge for him taking that all away from me, for ruining a sacred city and crushing it between his fingers.

“You look good.” I break the awkward silence that falls between us, his lips parted like an idiot, like he ran without thinking and forgot how to talk.

“Me? God, you look breathtaking.”

I would have blushed not long ago, curtsying at his comment and kicking my feet beneath the table cloth, but now the compliment is empty and instead feels backhanded in some odd way.

“Oh…well thank you. I tried my best.” I laugh bitterly, and the shine in his eyes tells me he misses the unhappiness in my giggles.

When he doesn’t speak again, I swear I can feel my skin shifting over my bones every time I breathe.

“Well, it was good seeing you.” I lie through my teeth, turning on my heals and wiping away any tears gathering on my waterline.

“You don’t have to avoid me, you know.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to avoid me. I know things aren’t the same between us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still look for you in every room I walk into. You’re the love of my life, even now.” He confesses, stepping closer.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t. I’m not in any rooms you’re in anymore.”

“But maybe I wish you were.” He says with a smirk, stepping closer and trying to slip his hand into mine, but it’s like needles stabbing into my skin, I cannot hold onto him, so I slip away.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

He grabs me again, a hold so desperate to keep me in his grasp, one I haven’t felt in a long time. Classic move from Mr. Steal Your Girl. The man who promised rings and cradles, the dame man who swooned over the small things and rolled his eyes as he turned his back. Mr. Make Her Cry.

“Y/n I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“It’s not. It can’t be, we already did that right?” I turn to him teary eyed, my wrist burning under the grip of his cold rings decorated on his warm hands.

“No, that’s not what that was.”

“Then what was it?”

He swallows, but keeps looking me in the eyes like he means everything he’s preparing to say.

“We were so young. I was scared, and I pulled away. It was wrong, but I thought you’d be better off with someone who wasn’t afraid to grow up.”

“I would have waited. You know that.” He nods.

“I know. But it’s not fair.”

“No, whats not fair is you coming back to me after leaving me stranded in a place I can’t even fucking stand to be near anymore! God, you’re such an asshole, talking rings and talking cradles and then claiming to be scared for a future you planned. You don’t do that, not to the love of your life, and you sure as hell don’t leave them stranded and alone. How dare you think it was romantic to have done that to me?” I spit venom from my tongue, my eyes clouded with tears. “You promised to never leave, then what? Never mind? You think you’re such a hero for leaving me but in reality you’re a coward. Letting me think we had it all, we almost had it all and then you leave? What do I do with myself now that you’ve come back? Do you want me to forgive you? Harry, I might be the love of your life but you’re the loss of mine.”

“I know, I know.”

“Stop saying you know when you don’t!” I scream, quieting down as I remember where we stand, and I silently pray I haven’t spoiled such a beautiful wedding.

“I’m not claiming to have been a good partner, god knows about all my faults and I’ve gone away to fix them, and you’re here now, and I don’t know how I’ll ever find you again if I do not ask now, but I need you to listen to me now before it’s too late because I’ve never felt a hole in my chest like this, and I need you to see how badly I need you back in my life, I need you to trust me when I say I’m committed this time.” He pleads, his hands trembling in mine.

My lip trembles at the feeling of his skin on mine, my face colliding with his shoulder in a suffocating hug, I can feel myself falling back into his wicked grip, but when he holds me like this, it feels more like flying than falling, at least until the bone crush.

Standing in the hallway of a wedding built for us, but dedicated to another, I see us dancing in the kitchen again, the steps burned into my head as we waltz back into rekindled flames. His love is just so warm, fuck it if I get burned, if it falls apart again.

He’s the loss of my life, Mr. Writes Me Love Songs, Mr. Dances With Me In The Kitchen.

But for now, at least under the false illusion’s presented within this luxurious wedding, he’ll be the love of my life.

[ham1lton]

The prompt idea is so cute💕. I'm giving you 4 options, choose the one (or ones) you like the most, if you feel like mixing and/or matching them it's also fine☺️. 011. Oscar Piastri 013. Charles Leclerc 019. Lewis Hamilton 047. Carlos Sainz - 🪻

011. a university lecture hall during a class w/ OP81.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

professor hamilton’s creative writing classes were usually incredibly full. he was a very popular lecturer who managed to inject life into all of the older books that he would discuss. you had to wait at the sign up page like ticketmaster to get a spot in the limited class, but you managed it. so now you had your designated lecture seat, in the sweet spot of the hall. not too far up but not too close.

“excuse me?” the boy next to you whispered. “do you have a pencil?”

you frowned. who doesn’t bring a pencil to a lecture? especially one as good as professor hamilton’s. you rummage around in your bag and manage to come up with a biro. you hand it to him.

“thank you.” he smiles, and that’s the end of your conversation.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

next week, the same thing happens again. you sit in your designated seat. he sits next to you and asks for a pen. then he hands it back after the lecture finishes. this routine happens every week for the next six weeks and honestly, you’re kind of annoyed. who forgets a pen to their lecture every week? so by the seventh week, you say something.

“hi, again.” he smiles. “do you have a pen i could borrow?”

“do you not have one?” you ask. “it’s sort of imperative you bring your own materials to class. you can get free ones from the library.”

he looks taken aback, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. "i know, i'm sorry," he says, running a nervous hand through his messy brown hair. "i do have pens, i just... well, i thought it was a good excuse to talk to you."

you blink, caught off guard by his honesty. "an excuse to talk to me?"

he nods, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "yeah, i guess it's a bit stupid. but you always seemed so focused, and i didn't know how else to start a conversation."

you feel a mix of irritation and something softer, perhaps flattery, creeping in. "so, you’ve been bothering me for six weeks just to talk?"

he grins awkwardly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "pretty much. i'm sorry if it annoyed you. i'll make sure to bring my own pen from now on."

you pause, considering his words. "well," you say finally, "y’know if you wanted to talk, you could have just... talked. no need for this pen charade."

he laughs, a genuine sound that makes you smile despite yourself. you can hear an accent in his voice, australian? "noted. so, can i make it up to you? maybe over coffee after class?"

you hesitate for a moment, then nod. "sure. but only if you promise to bring your own pen from now on."

"deal," he grins, holding out his hand. you shake it, and for the first time, you notice how warm his hand is. maybe this pen-forgetter isn't so bad after all. “i’m oscar.”

“y/n”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

author’s note: i chose the oscar one!! but someone else actually asked for the same charles prompt! so that should be posted soon <3

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Head Over Heels - Goose

Pairing: Nick "Goose" Bradshaw / Fem!Reader (Nicknamed Honey)

Word Count: 1.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only.

Warnings: Accidents; Referenced Bad Dates; Slight Self-Loathing; Female Reader with No Description, No "Y/N" or "You," Nicknamed "Honey"

Summary: Goose goes on a bad date and wants to give up. Maverick tells him that he just can't sit around and wait for the perfect girl to come around. Except fate has other plans.

Note: Set pre-Top Gun 1986. No Carole in this universe. She's off living her best life elsewhere. Bradley's not here (but maybe he'll come later? We'll see)

Master List

“I’m hopeless, Mav! Absolutely hopeless!” Goose complained, holding his face in his hands.

“You are not hopeless,” Maverick assured Goose, though his expression gave away his real opinion. “Just a little . . . rusty.”

The two were walking down the boardwalk after a disaster of a double date with two women that they met in town. And to say that it was a complete mess would have been generous. It all started with a spilled glass of water and ended with Maverick getting whacked in the face with a purse while defending Goose’s honor.

“Mav, let’s just face facts,” Goose sighed, turning to his pilot and best friend. “I’m hopeless, I have no idea how to impress women, and I’ll probably die alone because of it.”

“Goose, you’re overreacting,” Maverick cut in, clapping his best friend on his shoulder. “She just wasn’t the one. Anywhere near the one. But, hey, there’s got to be some girl out there who’ll be the perfect match to you. I can sense it.”

“But where the hell is she Mav?” Goose sighed, starting to walk along again.

“I don’t know, Goose, you’ve got to go out and look for her. The perfect girl isn’t just going to fall into your arms,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

“Watch out!” a voice suddenly called out.

Goose turned just in time to see a woman on a pair of roller skates heading towards him. He had about a split second to react. Reaching out his arms as a reflex, Goose managed to catch her as she tripped on the uneven wooden paneling on the ground. Her momentum caused them to both dip towards the ground until they were rolling together.

Goose managed to stop their rolling and found himself staring down at the most beautiful woman that he had ever set his sights on. She stared up at him with wide eyes, panting a bit, and resting her hand on his firm chest. He didn’t know her name, but Honey just felt right. She looked sweet, just like honey, and he wouldn’t mind a—no, Goose, no, he scolded himself.

“Hi,” Goose breathed out, memorizing by the literal angel that crashed into him.

“Hi,” Honey returned, similarly dazed.

“Jesus Christ, are you two alright!?” Maverick yelled, startling the two of them back to reality.

“I’m so sorry!” Honey immediately yelped, trying to scramble up. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Goose replied, getting up and keeping a hold on her hand to steady her. “Just a little dust. Nothing more.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, glancing over his form for any scratches.

“Yeah, it’ll take more than that to take me out,” Goose chuckled, holding her steady as she slipped a bit on her skates. “Are you alright?”

“Just a bit embarrassed,” she sighed, grabbing Goose a bit tighter. “This is what I get for trying to be someone that I’m not.”

And no sooner had she finished her sentence then Honey slipped towards the ground. Luckily, Goose had quick reflexes and managed to wrap his arms around her before she fell to the ground again. Of course, his maneuver ended up with her hanging in his arms like they were dancing partners and he was dipping her for some romantic move, which caused them both to grow even more flustered.

Maverick glanced between Goose and Honey with wide eyes. Glancing up at the sky and then down at his own hands for a moment, Maverick quietly wondered if he somehow summoned this woman to this exact spot.

“Why don’t we get you over to a bench?” Goose suggested with a chuckled, straightening her up again.

“That’s probably for the best,” she agreed, letting Goose help her over to a wooden bench.

Carefully setting her down on the bench, Goose kneeled down in front of Honey and started to untie the skates on her feet. Maverick hid a smirk behind his hand when he saw just how flustered and pleased Honey looked as Goose helped her with her skates.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Goose just needed to stand there and let fate do the work for him.

“There, now you’re safe,” Goose joked, setting the two skates beside her on the bench.

“Thank you,” she replied meekly, still highly embarrassed. “And I’m so sorry about running into you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Goose assured her with a kind smile. “But, can I ask why you’re skating around the boardwalk if you . . .?”

“Can’t skate?” Honey offered with a laugh. “My friend somehow managed to rope me into it.”

“Where’s your friend then?” Goose asked her.

The call of her actual name caused Goose, Maverick, and Honey to turn around to see another woman quickly skating towards them. She was more than likely the friend who indirectly caused the whole interaction based on the way that Honey sheepishly waved to her.

“Penny, I told you that this was a bad idea,” Honey sighed, gesturing towards the skates. “I was this close to going into the water. And I accidentally tackled him along the way.”

“Better than most linebackers,” Maverick joked, smiling brighter as he turned to face Penny. Well, if Goose got a beautiful girl to pay attention to him, why should Maverick get the same opportunity? “I’m Pete, Pete Mitchell. But you can call me Maverick. And the sack of potatoes that your friend took down is my RIO Goose.”

“Goose?” Honey repeated, sounding confused.

“You two are naval aviators?” Penny asked curiously, glancing between Maverick and Goose with newfound interest.

“It’s a callsign,” Goose explained to Honey. “My real name is Nick. You can call me whatever you prefer. I answer to both.”

“Goose somehow seems to fit you more,” Honey mused, turning to Goose again with a bashful smile.

“I think so,” Goose agreed, his cheeks literally aching from how hard he was smiling.

“Are you two free the rest of tonight?” Penny asked, shooting a knowing smirk at her friend. “We were just going to grab some dessert down at the end of the boardwalk. If you two are interested.”

“Well, it would be completely rude and downright unchivalrous if we didn’t take them up on their offer. Wouldn’t it, Goose?”

“It would,” Goose quickly blurted out before he turned to Honey. “Unless, of course, you think it wouldn’t be.”

“No, no, you should come,” Honey agreed, grabbing his hand. “So that I can properly thank you for the mess that I created.”

“Well, I can’t say ‘no’ to that,” Goose stated with a wide smile.

“Great, it’s settled! Let’s go,” Penny urged, gesturing down the boardwalk.

“Penny, we should grab our real shoes first,” Honey insisted, standing up. “I can’t walk barefoot all the way down there. And the parking lot is just up there.”

“I can carry you,” Goose offered, causing Honey’s eyes to widen a bit.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t let the chicken frame throw you off,” Maverick vouched on Goose’s behalf. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Thanks, Mav,” Goose hissed out, shooting his best friend a look.

“Great! Goose will carry you to the car and then we’ll all grab dessert together,” Penny stated, leaving no room for argument.

“You don’t have to carry me,” Honey assured Goose, but he simply smiled in return.

“No, no, I insist. Here, you can climb up onto my back,” Goose offered, turning around.

With some careful maneuvering, Honey clambered up onto Goose’s back and the new group of four headed up to Honey’s car. Goose and Honey fell into their own separate conversation from Penny and Maverick, who seemed to have instantly clicked. They reached Honey’s car in no time and with a quick shoe change, they were on their way down to the ice cream shop.

“So, what would you prefer me to call you?” Goose asked Honey, who smiled up at him.

“You can call me . . . tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? What kind of—oh,” Goose quickly caught on, causing Honey to giggle a bit. “Sorry, that wasn’t smooth at all.”

“I think it’s cute,” Honey replied, smiling at Goose bashfully.

“I think they’re so cute,” Penny whispered to Maverick, grabbing his arm lightly. “It’s been so long since she felt confident around a guy. She gets flustered so easily and they all make fun of her.”

“Goose isn’t like that at all. He’s a complete gentleman,” Maverick assured Penny, glancing back at Goose and Honey. “And between you and me, his confidence has been shot. The last couple of dates that he’s been on were disasters.”

“Who knows? Maybe they’re just what each other needs,” Penny mused before turning to Maverick. “So, tell me about yourself, Maverick.”

[h4venpha]

↳ 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — vash the stampede

98 vash centered, fluff, vash pierces ur ear for you

i saw a headcanon that vash pierced his own ear and i went crazy.

also i got my ears professionally pierced and they got infected lik years ago so. just know that before u read

“vash- are you serious? come on!” you turn around and glare at him while he backs away and continues to complain.

“i- i mean really? are you sure this is a good idea?” vash looks at you with a sheepish smile. a clean needle pinched in his hand and a rapidly melting ice cube in the other, the water dripping onto the front of his shirt.

“yes, oh my god, do it already,” you roll your eyes as you hold your hair out of your face.

“but like what if it gets infected or something?”he bites his lip in worry.

“okay well… yours didn’t get infected, and we’re using the same method, so it should be fine,” you suggest.

“but- but it’s different…” and he’s hopping back and forth on his feet, unknowingly shaking the water off the ice cube onto the bathroom floor.

“how.” you ask in monotone voice as you deadpan.

“if mine got infected it would be my fault, but if i get your’s infected then…” vash starts to pout. “then i would feel really bad!”

“come on, its just one piercing, it’ll be fine i promise,” you reassure in a softer tone and face back towards the mirror.

“…i still don’t want to hurt you,” he whines quieter but moves in closer, half melted ice cube and needle hovering next to your ear.

“vash,” you laugh softly. “it’s barely one second of pain, i can handle it,” regardless, you watch him purse his lips in the mirror’s reflection.

“o-okay,” he responds even though he feels like it wasn’t okay at all.

he presses the slippery ice cube to the underside of your ear lobe and hovers the needle over the little marking of where the earring would go. and he’s trying to get it right in the middle but his hands are shaking.

“vash, come on,” you watch him in the mirror as he pauses and takes a breath, finally centering it.

“should i count down or-“ he chuckles nervously.

“vash!”

“okay! okay, hold still…”

you close your eyes and prepare yourself, blood pumping in anticipation. hopefully vash didn’t have his eyes closed as well. he removes the ice cube from your skin and pinpoints the needle to the center of your ear lobe. it pierces through your flesh and you wince lightly.

“oh my god! i’m sorry!” vash winces like he was the one getting pierced.

“what? no, it’s fine! you did good!” your eyes sparkling as you look in the mirror at the needle sticking out from your ear. vash is pacing with nervousness by your side.

“did i? oh i hope so…” he’s biting his thumb lightly as he looks at you with worry.

“you did! here- put the earring in now.” laughing softly, you sit back down on the stool and hand him a small rhinestone stud.

“right, right.” he gulps and takes them with shaky fingers. vash slowly removes the needle and begins pushing the earring into small hole. “please tell me if it hurts,” his eyebrows creasing as he says softly. you watch him huff out the breath he was holding as he gets the earring all the way in and starts to put the back on.

when he finally pulls away, you jump up and lean in close at the mirror, examining it.

“see! i told you, it looks so good!” you tilt your face to the side and watch as it sparkles in the bathroom light.

“you think so?” vash asks as he watches you admire your piercing. he reaches up and thumbs his own earring, already imagining wearing matching sets of jewelry with you. he feels his face warm before he clears his throat, refraining himself from thinking about it. “i’m glad then, glad you trust me though, that is.” he smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.

you turn and throw your arms around his neck, his hands naturally finding their place around your waist. you’re on your tip toes as he hugs you back.

“thank you,” you say softly and tighten your hold around him. his loose hair brushing against your face as you press closer. he only hums back and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, your happiness was more than enough to make him forget how worrisome he was about piercing your ear.

—

months had passed after vash pierced your ear. it healed steadily for the first few months. although you experienced soreness and you often had to only sleep on one side, the outcome was rewarding.

you were able to change your earring out whenever you wanted and to whatever you wanted. especially if vash wanted to match earrings with you. he was embarrassed at first when he asked but now he often unashamedly buys earrings for you to share with him. ranging from shiny studs to silly, colorful ones to slim dangling ones.

the very first earring he got for you after it healed was a small silver hoop that matched the one he always wore. vash helped you take out the original stud you had in and slipped the hoop into the small lobe.

vash found that he became quite fond of the earrings you wore, especially when it was the silver hoop one. it was almost like his trademark, and when you wore it, it turned his insides into mush. thus the habit of fiddling with your earring starts, he likes to reach around your shoulder and run his metal finger over it, creating a little tinkling sound next to your ear. and its almost therapeutic the way he sometimes trails the pad of his metal finger over the edge of your ear lobe. and when you turn and look at him with an embarrassed face, he only smiles sweetly, fingers still gently running over your earring.

[ladylooch]

Faking an orgasm with Nico?

Fake- Nico Hischier

A/N: I love these different ideas that come into my inbox! You all have great ideas and I’m honored when you trust me with them! For real tho, don’t cheat yourself out of a good time. If they aren’t hitting you with what you need, explore that with open communication!

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18 + Content.

The headboard slaps against the wall with each one of Nico’s sloppy thrusts into me. The bed groans with the same inflection as my boyfriend. I wrap my feet around his butt, trying to keep him deep while tightening up my inner muscles to create some friction. It doesn’t help me, but Nico moans against my mouth as he leans down to kiss me.

“I’m close.” He says through another wet moan.

I’m not, but I can tell by how this has all gone that Nico is more about himself tonight than me. And that’s fine because usually it’s the opposite. Plus I’m still having a damn good time with him. I exaggerate a needy moan to him that he matches. I tighten my breathing, producing needy gasps, until I almost believe that I’m actually orgasming.

“Yessss.” He sputters as he jerks his last few thrusts into me. 

The headboard finally silences and only Nico’s rough breathing fills the room. He shakes the hair out of his eyes, grinning down at me in blinding satisfaction. 

“Mmm, I love ya.” He muses then rolls off of me. 

“Love you.” I murmur back, arching my back to stretch out a compressed kink in my lower back.

“Come here.” He opens his arm for me to bury my face into his side. He drops a kiss to my scalp then combs his fingers through my hair in steady strokes. Now this feels incredible.

Nico’s hot, wet kisses awaken my naked body the next morning. He tastes every part of me before practice, ending our love making with a ravenous and sweet breakfast between my legs.

“So how was your night last night?” Ryleigh asks me later. We both lay flat on our backs after an hour long workout session at our apartment gym. Her and Dawson live in the same building, so we usually squeeze in a work out and lunch a few times a week while the boys are at practice.

“It was fine.” I bring my leg up, stretching out my hamstring. I sigh at how good it feels.

“Just fine? With how Nico was hanging on you when you two left?” I roll my eyes at the memory of him licking the shell of my ear obscenely in front of the team. Drunk Nico hits different when he sheds the C for the night.

“Yeah, take that eagerness and move it to the bedroom.” I chuckle, wiggling my hips in an awkward motion.

“Oooooo….” She cringes. “Sloppy?”

“Yeah.”

“He rocked your world in the end?”

“God, no.” I snort. “Could have won an Oscar with my performance though.”

Ryleigh laughs at the same time I hear the door to the gym swing open. I look up from my spot on the floor, not seeing anyone there. I bring my other leg up to stretch out.

“He more than made up for it this morning though.”

Ryleigh’s phone dings.

“Boys are back.” She says, surprised.

“Wow, must have been a quick practice.” We both gather our water bottles, phones, and headphones before heading to the elevator. When we get to our floor, we both peel off in different directions, confirming to meet up at the same time tomorrow.

“Hey!” I say brightly to Nico when I get back to our place. He gives me a strange smile from the counter where he is flipping through the mail. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah, we worked on special teams for like 15 minutes, then spent a good chunk of time in recovery. Got a lot of games coming up.” He tosses a pile of mail onto the counter, then comes to give me a stack.

“Thanks.” I pucker my lips. He pauses for a moment, studying my face, then slowly leans down to brush our lips together. “Hey, that was lame. Kiss me for real.” I wrap my hand into a first with his shirt. I hold him there until the pressure of his mouth on mine is satisfying. “Mmm, better.” I think I catch an annoyed tiff from him, but it’s so quick I’m not sure. I slide my gaze to the mail, fingering through the envelopes and deciding it’s nothing urgent. 

“I’m going to rinse off in the shower.”

“Okay.” I say to the empty room because Nico has already disappeared. I stare at the empty doorway, wondering what happened at practice that took away his cheery mood from this morning.

Nico is usually an in and out of the shower kind of guy, so I’m surprised when I look up from my book and realize its been about a half hour since he went into our bathroom. I set my book down, strolling down the hall as he is coming out of the bathroom. His hair is towel dried and he’s already dressed in new boxer briefs and pants. The wide, thick muscles of his back tense as his fingers work to button his jeans closed.

He doesn’t look up as I come behind him. I wrap my arms around his body, gliding my fingers slowly up his abdomen. He doesn’t react, just stands there silently.

“I know you just showered but maybe you and I can work up a little sweat?” I murmur, pressing my lips to his bare back. He tenses under my mouth.

“How so?”

“You touch me… I touch you… we touch some things together….” He snags a random t-shirt off the hanger, tugging it hard off the plastic.

“I think one Oscar performance from you is enough for one day. Or was it two?” He pulls away from me, leaving me confused in our closet. Then, I remember the swinging door from earlier. I close my eyes. Fuck.

I walk into the bedroom where Nico has already thrown the shirt over his shoulders, moving it down his abdomen so it rests against his jeans. He runs an exasperated hand through his hair before moving to the dresser to strap his watch back on.

“You heard me?”

“Tell someone else you faked an orgasm? Yeah I did.” His tone is gruff and he scoffs after he says it.

“Can we talk about it?”

“I think the time to talk about it was last night when you were faking it beneath me.”

“Neeks, come on.” I reach out for his forearm as he tries to walk around me. He stops next to me when my hand squeezes his skin.

“Why would you do that?” His voice is low with an obvious hurt.

“You were almost there and… I wanted you to feel good.” I shrug.

“But I want you to feel good. Every time.”

“I know. Last night was just an off night for us.”

“Did you this morning too?” A harsh line forms between his thick eyebrows.

“No. Last night was the first and last. I promise.” I run my hand up his arm to his neck. My fingers grip it, bringing his face down to mine. “This morning was amazing. You’re all I thought about during my work out.” I kiss his cheek, working my way to his mouth. The first press is against slacked lips. But then his lips slowly firm under mine to kiss me back. “I love you. I’m sorry. I should have told you I needed a little extra.”

“Yeah.” He sighs against my mouth as my fingers rub his penis over his jeans. He’s thickening with each pass.

“I can make it up to you?” I murmur as I lower to my knees.

“I think I’m supposed to make it up to you.” He says with heavy eyes.

Instead, his hand gathers my hair into a tight fist while he slides himself deep into my mouth, without another distinguishable word.

[moody-alcoholic]

Tattoo

I just love the idea of 141 all having matching tattoos. Don't tell me they wouldn't, and a group chat that is 90% Gaz & Rosaly and 10% emoji reactions from Price and Ghost...

Summary: Simon x OC, 1.7k words. Gaz takes Rosaly to get the 'team' tattoo. First draft dribbles, tattooing inaccuracies.

Disclaimer: I have never had a tattoo, I am going off what I have seen about other people getting a tattoos, so there are bound to be inaccuracies...

Enjoy <3

Masterlist

“It’s going to hurt.” I protest to Gaz as I step out the car. He laughs.

“It’s a right of passage, you’re 141 we have to get you a tattoo. Besides I thought you’re used to working with needles?” He says.

“On other people yeah.” I say as we walk to the tattoo shop. I take a deep breath in as he opens the door. A bell rings and a woman walks round the corner she has pink and red hair her face dotted with peicings. She opens her arms and hugs Gaz.

“Lu this is Rosaly.” I put my hand out and shake it, as I do I realise how sweaty my palm is.

“Sorry,” I say wiping them on my jeans.

“Nervous?” She asks. I nod. “It’s fine you’ll barely feel it.” They take a step to a gate but my feet wont move. I feel sick, I don’t think I can do this.

“Are you sure this is not just an SAS thing cos technically I’m still navy.” I say to Gaz, he chuckles reaching for my wrist, pulling me through the gate.

“It’s definitely not just an SAS thing.” He says leading me through the shop. I see another artist working on a woman's arm she smiles at me as I pass her. The pit hasn’t gone away as Gaz sits me down in a chair. I watch as Lu swivels round on a stool with a tablet in her hands.

“So the same as the rest Kyle?” She asks.

“Yeah the initials are RW.” He says looking over at her tapping on the tablet. She spins the tablet showing me. I see the SAS crest, around it are different images, in the bottom right there a some dogtags with my initials on them, on the opposite side there is a sniper. On each side of the crest there are flags, a sottish flag on one side and the union jack on the other. Under each flag is their representative countries flower, a thistle for Scotland and a rose for Britain. I smiled looking at it.

“Now, Kyle added his medals to the space at the top of his.” Lu explains.

“Yeah and LT added his mask.” Gaz said. I looked over at the space at the top of the crest.

“How about an anchor, and rope?” I look up at Gaz he smiles. “And could I change the rose to a Yorkshire rose?” Lu nodded enthusiastically taking a stylus out and drawing on the tablet. After a few seconds she turns the tablet round.

“It looks great.” I say looking at the sketch, she nods.

“I’ll go print this off,” she says getting up. All of a sudden I was nervous again.

“So you’ve all got one? Even Price?” I ask Gaz.

“It was Price’s idea.” Gaz chuckled. “You’ve seen Simon’s right?”

“Yeah but he has lots of tattoos I thought it was just another one.” I say, the pit reforms in my stomach as I see Lu coming back with a stencil. She sit’s back down on the stool scooting towards me.

“Where do you want it?” She asks. The stencil looks bigger all of a sudden, my eyes switch to Gaz, I don’t know what to say. My mouth is just hanging open as I look between them.

“Where will it hurt the least?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Everyone is different but your forearms or your thighs?” She shrugs.

“Thighs sounds like a good idea.” I say.

“I can put the stencil on and then we can see?” Lu says, I nod.

“Do you want to sit on the bed?” She asks. I nod forcing myself out of the chair onto the pleather bed. Lu adjusts the top of the bed so it’s not flat and pulls her stool round. I hitch my pants down to my knees. Lu looks at Gaz.

“Oh I’ve pulled bullets out him, my thigh is nothing.” I say she giggles.

“I’ll have to shave the spot,” She says taking out some shaving foam and a razor. I nod letting her do her thing. I look over at Gaz taking his phone out, holding it up to me. My eyes widen.

“You better not be taking pictures of me.” I say. He chuckles shaking his head typing something on his phone. A second later I hear my phone vibrate. I look over at the group chat seeing a notification.

“I so should have made LT bring me.” Gaz smiles.

“What do you think?” Lu asks, I look down at the blue stencil lines on my thigh. I twist my leg looking at it. It looks good, I feel myself smiling.

“I like it.” I say looking at her.

“Do you want to take a look in the mirror before we start?” I nod hopping off the bed my pants falling all the way down to my ankles. I step over to the standing mirror. I turn my body so I can see it, it’s not as big as it seemed in the bed. I could handle this, it’s not like it’s overly decorated or anything. This was a good thing, it means they really do see me as one of the team. John had one, I never saw his I wonder where he got it? I’m surprised Price was the one who came up with it, I really want to know where his was. I smile turning to Gaz who nods and gives me a thumbs up. I see Lu coming back out with a clipboard walking over to me.

“All good?” She asks. I nod and she hands me the clipboard. I look over it, it looks like a lot of legal jargon.

“It’s just consent forms and the last page is our studio’s waver.” I nod taking the pen off. I froze again, this was really it I was about to do this I took a big gulp of air in and signed the pages handing them back to her.

“Wait, sorry, can I change one more tiny little thing?” I say trying not to come across as being a pain.

“Sure,” She says smiling, okay now she is being too kind. I turn back to look in the mirror real quick.

“The dogtags, can I move them out some more so you can see them both and add some initials?” I say looking back at her, she nods.

“What initials?”

“JM,” I look at Gaz who is still smiling.

“Yeah sure, I can draw that in, hop up on the bed I’ll be back in a second.” I nod walking back to lie on the bed looking at Gaz.

“Where did Price get his?” I ask.

“No one knows.” He laughs. “Apart from Lu of course, and she’s sworn to secrecy.”

“So Lu did all of them?” I ask. Gaz nods. Simon’s is on his arm, Gaz’s is on his shoulder, I don’t know where John’s was it wasn’t on the top half of his body at least. It felt weird getting an SAS tattoo when I wasn’t even SAS, maybe this was Price’s way of making sure I accepted the offer for SAS training. I hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Simon but I would not be surprised if he knew, which made it even worse that I hadn’t told him yet. Price told me 4 days ago, before I could start spiraling Lu came back. She sat back down and started drawing on my leg, moving the dogtags and writing the initials in.

“For Johnny right?” She asks when she’s done and looks at me for approval. I nod. “I was sorry to hear he passed, he helped me design this.” She said putting the pen down and pulling on some gloves.

“That explains the Scottish stuff.” I chuckle. I watched as she rubbed a blob of vaseline on the back of her glove and moved a light over so it was shining on my thigh. I watched her pick the tattoo gun up. The nerves came back like a flood I all of a sudden felt sick. I instinctively reached out for Gaz. He stood up coming over to grab my hand laughing.

“It’s not funny.” I protest, I hear he gun turn on and I squeeze his hand which only makes him laugh again. I turn over to Lu who is dipping it in the ink.

“Ready?” She asks smiling at me. I look up and take a breath in squeezing my eyes closed.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Okay here we go,” she says. I prepare to feel pain, but I don’t feel anything. I open my eyes, I stop squeezing gaz’s hand, he chuckles shaking his head. I look over at Lu she’s definitely tattooing my skin, it doesn't hurt though. I sigh letting go of his hand he sits back down in the chair. I start to relax letting the sound of the gun buzzing ground me. Gaz and Lu make small talk, they swap stories as I sit patiently waiting for it to be done, every now and then I feel a sting of pain and I look back down to see the progress. Gaz distracts me by pulling me into the conversations about missions. Lu seems to be interested in what Gaz has been doing more then me though. I give him a cheeky look every time she asks him a simple question, almost like she wants to listen to him talk about anything. When she is done with the main design she asks if I want a break before she starts on the colour. I shake my head and another 30 minutes passes when she says she’s done. I’m excited now I’m almost jumping off the bed to look in the mirror. I love it, my skin is red and puffy but I don’t mind. I want to touch it but I restrain myself.

"I love the little colours, on the flags the rope on the anchor is so smooth.” I say turning back to look at Lu.

“See I told you it wouldn’t hurt.” Gaz said taking his phone out. “Let me get a picture.”

I move so he can take one then go back over to Lu, I’m almost not paying attention as she cleans and wraps it listing off instructions for aftercare. I thank her for being so patient, and she tells me to be careful for the next few days. I jump off the bed pulling my jeans up, maybe not the best idea to ware jeans but at least there loose and she did wrap it well. I take the bottle out her hand and the aftercare leaflet, I’m giddy I just want to show everyone. I can’t wait to see what it looks like healed.

“Charge it to Price right?” Lu asks Gaz.

“Always.” Gaz says.

“You should stop by when you’re around next we can go for coffee?” She calls back as I pull the door handle to leave.

“Yeah, I’ll text you.” He replies. When we get back in the car I nudge him.

"What?" he asks confused.

"You and Lu." I say fluttering my eyelashes at him.

"Stop," he says turning the engine on, I giggle watching him blush. My hand finds it's way to my dogtags I rub John's. I would have to ask Simon where John had his tattoo done he would know, Simon knew everything about Johnny.

[masonmiamor]

bracelets and soulmates - - mason mount x reader.

summary: a small blurb of making bracelets and calling mase your soulmate, also a little bit of disney movies never hurt anyone right?

i’m not so sure of this so please bear with me as i’m posting this after my break! 💕💕 i hope you still enjoy reading it!! any feedback appreciated as i’m getting back onto writing!

“Wait- Mason! Hold on bubs…” you laughed as Mason snuggled closer to you, holding you by your waist. “We still have one more activity to do,” you said, slightly pulling away and grabbing his cheeks gently to give him a quick peck. His soft brown eyes stared into yours, his pupils dilating and his cheeks burning slightly red.

“Give me your hand baby,” he whispered and you listened, Mason pressed your small palm against his heart, “After all this time you still make me nervous, like a schoolboy all over again,” he chuckled, shaking his head and placing a small kiss on your forehead. You could feel his rapid heartbeat almost hear it against your hand.

“What did you want to do? You mentioned a final activity? What is it?” he asked. “We’re making each other bracelets!” you said happily, clapping your hands excited. “I got the idea while buying decorations for our upcoming housewarming party,” you said, then walking over to the white plastic bags that rested against the wooden table by the entrance.

You pulled out a plastic container filled with beads from all different shapes and colors, along with elastic string, and small jewels and charms. “I thought, "Why not?” It can be a small reminder of each other if we’re ever away like for example this weekend,” you refer to the small getaway with your girlfriends and him being away for a match.

Mason had followed behind you feeling still slightly nervous. He was beaming being back with you after almost a week. The late night calls and texts throughout the day just reminded him of the distance and just wanting to be in your arms since it was home. His safe place. Especially after the season his team had, you soothed him and relaxed him in every way possible.

The way you gave him space after a thought day waiting for him to come to you, the small kisses on the nape of his neck that sent tingles down his spine, your small hands stretching his back and hair when cuddling on the couch. Hell, even your voice and laughter brought a sense of comfort to him!

“It's perfect, baby! You just have to guide me through how to make them even if it’s 2 steps,” Mason jokes, helping you take the bags to his living room. You lit up some candles, grabbed your glass of wine and sat down on the floor near the coffee table. Mason sat beside you but pulled you closer whining at how far away you were from him.

“It’s simple, first pick out your choice of beads, then grab the string and do this,” you demonstrate the small knot and attach a clasp next. “Add the beads till the desired length and then finally attach the other end of the clasp to secure the bracelet!” you continued. “I’ll be here to help you don’t worry,” you reassure him by giving him a small kiss.

You watched as he picked larger baby blue beads, smaller navy ones, and white micro beads. He also grabbed the small football charm and the letter M for his initials. As much as you wanted to focus you found his little concentrated face so adorable, brows pulled in, frowning then and there, his tongue peaking out his bottom lip at times.

You picked out the design you wanted and began assembling it, but before doing so you grabbed the remote and played your shared playlist on the screen to set the mood. “Play Dreams, Fairytales, Fantasies by Brent Faiyez next,” Mason requested and so you did hearing him hum and sing the song, you doing the same.

“You send me texts through the day like, baby, you fine, And I can still feel the tingle up and down my spine”

“I must be losing my mind… Dream, fairy tale, fantasy when you're around me”

“I think I'm done?” Mason said, inspecting the bracelet and bringing it to your wrist to make sure it wasn’t too small or big, but the perfect size. “Do you like it?” he asked shyly, making you nod your head quickly, “It’s beautiful Mason! Thank you!” you praised him twisting your wrist to take a closer look. “I’m not quite done but this is yours so far,” you reach out and show him.

His eyes glow, bringing his finger and running it down the beads, “Let’s see if it beats mine,” he tries to banter, causing you to playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll be right back, going to put the cookies in the oven so we can eat them while watching a disney movie!” he yells out while entering the kitchen.

You make sure first he isn’t looking as you head shuffling, and finish adding the “XOXO” beads to then pick out “soulmate” for the other side of the bracelet keeping the small color of beads you decided from the start. You smile at the almost finished bracelet adjusting the beads so they don't have gaps or anything.

You tried it on your wrist fitting a bit bigger but it looked exactly how you planned it, the small heart and your initial charms making you smile like an idiot. Mason walked back into you cleaning up the table, quickly helping you pick up any of the beads that dropped on the floor.

He sat on the couch bringing you close and holding you by your thighs since you were kind of straddling him. His warm hands ran against them watching as goosebumps appeared to the affection. “Do you wanna see it?” you said teasingly making Mason cock his head to the side giving you an “Obviously” look.

“Close your eyes and hand me your wrist, and no peeking!” you insisted. Mason does as you say even covering his eyes with his left hand. “Open…” his brown eyes quickly glance to the bracelet you made for him, his heart beating fast again. “Soulmate…” he let out a breath, smiling.

You grabbed his hand and kissed over his knuckles lovingly, your thumbs then rubbing over his decorated wrist. “I hope you know no matter where we are, you're my soulmate. I love you Mason, always, never forget that,” you express. “I know how hard it’s been for you but I want you to know that I'll be there for and with you at all times. Just like you are for me.”

Mason's eyes get glossy, the bridge of his nose burning red as he bites the inside of his cheeks. “Thank you. For this and for always being who you are Y/n. I’m lucky and fortunate to get to wake up next to you, hold and kiss you whenever I please, and come to you for anything. My soulmate indeed. Also my future wife and mother to my kids,” Mason says, a tear going down his cheek.

You rest your forehead against his kissing over the freckles on his nose and cheeks and then finally pull him into a loving kiss. Mason could taste the cherries and a small hint of the wine you were drinking, holding you close by the back of your head.

“How about we watch Tangled?” you propose after kissing and holding him close knowing the answer already. “As long as we watch Princess and the frog next,” Mason replied, making you giggle. You helped him grab the cookies and pour milk into glasses to take upstairs. Mason grabbed the blankets and laptop and set them up on his bed.

“I love you princess. My soulmate indeed forever,” Mason said to towards to you, who had fallen asleep close to the end of Princess and the Frog. He pulled shut off the screen and put the laptop aside snuggling you closer to his chest, tucking your hair behind your ear and kissing you temple.

“My evangeline.”

ynusername posted on their instagram story!

masonmount posted to their instagram story!

[disasterofastory]

On the side of the road (Steve Rogers x Reader)

On the side of the road officer!Steve Rogers x prostitute!Reader Warnings: prostitution, smut

Summary: You have a better idea than spening your night at the police.

A/N: Kinktober 2022

A groan leaves your mouth the moment you see a police car appearing from the turn of the road. The lights of the city gleam behind it in the distance. A halo shines around the tall buildings, suppressing the sparks of the stars in the dark sky. The only thing you can see is the moon, full and bright.

You move back from the side of the road, hoping you can hide in the darkness. Maybe you can get away unnoticed. Maybe they won't see you. How could they? You are almost in the bushes that are lined up next to the dark road.

You don't even dare to move. Your eyes are on the ground, staring at the black heels you chose to wear tonight. It looks good with your matching miniskirt and lacy top that shows off every part of your curves you are proud of. They are not warm enough for the night, and goosebumps run over your body every now and again, but you are not here to feel good and comfortable. You are here to work.

Well, that's it if the familiar white and blue car doesn't notice you.

Your jaw clenches with frustration as you close your eyes for a second. Small pebbles creak under the wheels of the car when it pulls off the road to stop in front of you.

Fuck.

For a few seconds, your attention turns to the opposite direction, thinking about running away, but the idea seems laughable and humiliating. No. It's not your first time with the cops, you can deal with them now too. You have to. Your eyes return to the car, watching the door open as a man gets out. He is tall and blonde. The lights of the vehicle do nothing to hide his imposing figure. His uniform stretches on his broad muscles, and gears hang on his black belt, forcing your attention to his thin waist until he breaks the silence first.

"Are you lost?" He asks. Both of you know the question is a waste of time. One look at your revealing dress, and the man knows why you are here in the middle of the night. His bright blue eyes sweep over your body. Your skin is smooth under the lights of the car, he can see your nipples through the thin fabric, and your makeup glitters as you move your head. "I'm perfectly fine, Officer," you reply when you find your voice. "Thank you for your concern." The stranger can't help but smirk. There is a feigned innocence in your eyes as you look at him, but the slight tease and flirtiness in your voice are undeniable. "Do you have your papers?" When you shake your head, he sighs. "Then I'm afraid you have to come with me. Do you have any weapons?" It's not like you could hide anything under your skin-tight dress, but he has to ask. The man tries to tell himself that he only looks over your body again to search you but deep down, he knows it's not true. He can't understand why a woman like you would waste her life away like this. "Just a spray in my purse," you reply, holding up your small bag in your hand. "Are you planning to use it on me?" He knows he should be much more firm with you, but the pressure in his pants doesn't let him. You are beautiful, and he has to force himself not to stare at your deep cleavage, hard nipples, and soft thighs. A smirk pulls on your lips. You find the question funny, but you are not bothered by it, your focus is on something else. You recognize that look. Hunger. "No, Officer…" "Rogers. Steve Rogers." He wants to hear his name coming out of your mouth. His gaze is on your lips. The corners of your red lips jerk upwards again. "Officer Rogers," you repeat his words. "Steve Rogers. Are you sure you have to take me in?" His eyes darken for a second before the man shakes his head to clear his mind. "I'm afraid, Miss…" You don't even think before you lie. "Barnes." Well, you are definitely not the Barnes he knows. "But my friends call me Angel," you add. Yeah… friends. Sure.

Your every hope gets crushed when Steve opens one of the back doors, and you have no choice but to obey.

The way back to the city is quiet while you are busy with your thoughts. Watching the blonde man glancing back at you in the rearview mirror every few minutes, you know you still have a chance to go home instead of the station. Sure, you won't get money for it, but you rarely have the opportunity to have sex with a man like him. He is handsome with a chiseled jawline, straight nose, and plump lips. "Are you sure there is no other way, Officer?" You ask him after a while as you lean closer to the grid that separates you from the man. Of course, there is. Steve can think of a dozen positions you could get away with everything. Everything. His jaw clenches when he can't answer. What he wants and what he should say are two different things.

You take it as a yes, though.

Leaning back on the seat, you let your legs open to show off your black panties. You are not even sure Steve can see it until his eyes wander to the mirror again, and he freezes. Satisfaction washes over your body, and you go further. Your hands smooth up from your knees to the edge of your skirt to push it up. "Please, Officer." The delicious whine in your voice echoes in Steve's ear. "I'm sure we can help each other out." You don't have to see it. You know he is hard. His erection between his muscled thighs presses against the fabric of his underwear and pants.

Steve shouldn't do this. He has a job to do. He has to take you in and deal with you in his office in the most professional way he can. He glances up at the mirror again. Your painted nails dig into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. So close to your center.

Fuck it.

-

"Oh, fuck!" Steve's groan fills the back of the car as you sink down on his hard length. His hands are firm on your hips, and his lips ghost over your hard nipple as he breathes out. "You are so big," you tell him. And this time, you mean it. He stretches you out, filling you up until every nerve of your body is on edge with anticipation. "Ride me, Angel," he rasps. "Make a mess on my cock, baby." And you do just that. You begin to bounce on his lap steadily, keeping your balance with your hands on his broad shoulders. His thick cock reaches every sweet spot in you that sends pleasure through your veins. One of your hands slips to the back of his neck as he plays with your nipples. He sucks and flicks them with his warm tongue. "Steve," you exhale his name. "I'm gonna…" "Cum," he orders immediately. His hand goes down from your hips to your heated pussy. His thumb finds your clit easily, teasing the sensitive bud until you shake above him. His mouth on your nipple, his finger on your clit, and his hard cock in your throbbing pussy are enough to push you over the edge. Your muscles jerk at the overwhelming feeling, and you barely notice the change in the blonde man's demeanor.

His grip is on your hips again, keeping you steady to fuck up into you. He pounds you with a newfound vigor while your legs shake beside his thighs. The wet sound of your pussy fills the car, and the musky scent of both of you covers your senses. Your eyes roll back when another orgasm consumes your used body. "That's right, Angel," Steve groans. "Cum on my cock, make a mess on it, you little whore." "Steve!" Your voice is tight and hoarse. Black dots dance in front of your eyes. "How many men made you feel this good, Angel? Do you cum on every cock like this?" You shake your head. At least you think you are shaking your head. You are not sure. Your burning cunt is tight on his cock as your walls flutter to suck him in more. "No? You don't get a cock like this every night?" "No," you mewl. Tears are running down your heated cheeks. "I'm gonna cum," he roars, and with that, he pushes his hips up one more time, burying himself in your abused channel as he fills the condom with his seed.

Both of you need a few minutes to get your strength back and clear your mind. Your body shakes, and Steve's softened cock is still in your pussy when the man finds his voice to speak up. "We should go. I still have to take you home."

[nycbaby21]

Brock Boeser Imagine

prompt: blind date with Brock

word count: 1,372

“No Quinn I’m sure he is a great guy. It’s just I’m not really sure about all of this. Ya know going on a date with some guy I don’t know,” I sigh while grabbing the orange juice from him and placing it in the fridge. “What do you wanna know,” he asks grabbing a bundle of grapes and popping one of them into his mouth. “Is he getting hounded like I am right now,” I turn to look at the defensemen sitting on my countertop. “Petey is at his place now,” he smirks holding out a grape for me. I roll my eyes and keep putting up my groceries. Quinn continues trying to sell me on the idea of a blind date.

Not too far away in an apartment downtown, two blonde men are having a very similar conversation. “Petey I wish you and Quinn would chill out on this whole date thing. I’m fine,” Brock uttered turning his attention back to the game. The Swede shakes his head and pauses the game yet again. Brock throws his controller down, knowing the two will never finish this game. He sinks back into the couch and stares at his friend. 

“Boes I hate to break it to you but Quinn has been on more dates than you recently,” Elias points out. Thinking there was no way that was true, he let his face fall realizing his friend was right, it had been a really long time. “Okay you can tell Quinn to set it up,” he says shaking his head while doing it. Petey lets a small smile grace his face while unpausing the game killing Brock's character, who still hadn’t picked back up his controller.

Smoothing down the front of my dress, I do a turn in the mirror giving myself one final look over. All I knew about this date was it was at some fancy restaurant downtown and I was meeting him there at 7. After hours of trying on different outfits, I finally decided on a simple little black dress with the shortest heels that I owned. Throwing on some jewelry and a touch of makeup and calling it a day. Huffing out a breath I walk into my living room finding the two Canucks players on my couch eating a bowl of popcorn each. “Damn Y/n,” Quinn exclaims eyes running down my body and then back up. “Good damn or bad damn,” I ask nervously, in all honesty, it had been a minute since I had gone out. “Good, very good,” Petey finishes his thought. “Okay well, I guess I’m out of here. If you guys leave before I get back please lock up,” I say as I rush out of the door. 

I end up fast walking up to the restaurant due to the chill in the air. I had gone for style over comfort and went jacketless, which was my own dumb fault in Vancouver in the early spring. My heels clicking on the sidewalk alert the tall blonde man leaning against the wall right outside the door. He quickly raises his head up and we lock eyes. He walks towards me closing the distance between us. I couldn’t help but silently thank Quinn and Petey for forcing this. “Wow you look really beautiful,” he blurted out then a light dusting of blush spread across his cheeks. “Thank you. You look really nice too,” I say softly sporting a matching flushed face. “Should we head inside,” he asks ushering us into the building.

We were surrounded by the hustle and bustle and the stuffy atmosphere, it was almost too much. My eyes had been looking over the menu and I couldn’t control the bored expression on my face. I felt so out of place here, like snotty customers were looking down on me. I slowly lower the menu and see the same look on Brock’s face. A small laugh escapes my lips and I quickly slap my hand over my mouth. He looks up, blue eyes lighting up and eyebrows furrowed. Rude looks came from several different people at my disruption of the “quiet and calming” vibe of the place. “I am so sorry. I just couldn’t help it, you look just as bored as I do,” I smiled watching him visibly relax some. “Oh thank God. I thought that I was the only one. I know a really good burger spot a couple roads over,” I don’t even let him say another word as I grab his hand and pull him out of there.

We walked out laughing like hyenas, which resulted in even more weird looks. Normally stares from strangers would make my skin crawl but something about being with Brock made me not care. We settled on a bench in the nearby park. “One for the lady and one for me,” Brock smiles passing out the food. I reach over and steal a fry from him. “Hey no ma’am, you have your own,” he tries to sound serious but his laugh tells me he is just joking. The wind blew a little harsh and I shivered. He stripped off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. When he did our faces were so close, if I wanted to I could have leaned over and kissed him. I think he thought the same because his eyes glanced down to my lips and then quickly back up. Pulling back we both smile widely. 

The two of us walk down the sidewalk towards my apartment. Every so often I feel his fingers brush against mine. Reaching over I interlock our fingers and give our hands a little swing. As we get closer to my place, I notice the boy’s cars still outside. “Well, this is me,” I say stopping but showing no sign of leaving and dropping our hands. “I had a really good time tonight Y/n,” he says giving our hands a squeeze. “Me too, I’d really like to do it again sometime,” I expressed looking up and him and smiling. He slowly leaned down gauging if I wanted the same thing. When I showed no sign of stopping him, he quickly connected our lips together. It was the sweetest and most passionate kiss I had ever had. My hands fly up to the back of his neck while his hands land lightly on my hips.

A buzzing sound interrupts us and we slowly pull back.I pull out my phone to read the text message from Quinn, and Brock gets a similar text from Petey. Laughing we show each other our phones,” You know those two are probably all smushed up against the windows spying on us.” I laugh at him knowing that he is actually right. “Wanna come up with me,” I suggest raising my eyebrows. He nods his head letting me lead the way. I unlock the door and we see the two scrambling to sit back down and look natural. “Are you two actually serious,” I laugh holding onto Brock’s forearm and leaning over to slip off the heels. “You guys look awfully close,” Quinn points out.

“Yeah no thanks to you two,” Brock states while sitting down on the chair near the couch his teammates currently occupied. “Excuse me,” Petey’s eyes snap back and forth between us. I walk back into the room after quickly changing into some sweats and a shirt. I round the corner and sit on the arm of the chair Brock was sitting in, his arms slipping around my waist holding me in place. “That place you guys picked was terrible. I swear if we had stayed there we wouldn’t be sitting so close right now,” I laugh pointing my finger at the two of them. “That place was great. It’s where all my first dates are,” Quinn defends himself. We all share a look and laugh at the Hughes boy. “Quinny maybe that is why you don’t get very many second dates,” Brock points out.

The four of us hang out for a little while later, Petey and Quinn arguing about who is gonna be the best man all while the two of us sit happily in our shared chair so thankful the goofballs bullied us into the date.

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Words: 4871

Warnings: Mentions of Fatphobia (Certainly not from Javi, don’t worry)

Notes: We got domestic Javi here. He’s so soft, respects the shit out of women of all shapes and sizes, and is a true gentleman.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Make yourself at home.”

Javier walked into his home with me close behind him. He threw his keys into a bowl and shrugged off his jacket. He laid it on the back of a dark leather chair that matched the couch and another chair. His furniture looked as though it was picked out of a catalog, and it probably was. His place seemed to suit him fine, although there were hardly any personal touches. There was a pillow and blanket on his couch, a nearly full ashtray on the coffee table next to an empty glass, and the only picture I could see was a framed one on the table by the door. In the picture he was standing with a smile on his face and his arm around someone who looked like an older version of himself.

“I know it’s not much,” he said. “We get provided with a furnished apartment when we come here. Murphy’s upstairs.”

I nodded, trying to take everything in.

“It’s cozy,” I said, still amazed by what was happening. “Javier, this is too much.”

“Please,” he stepped toward me, “what happened to Javi?”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure what came over me that day, I must’ve just been so panicked I forgot myself.”

The look in his eyes made me want to close our distance, just so I could feel his arms around me one more time. Instead of doing just that, he stepped away and into the kitchen. I sat on one of his chairs and continued to look around, even though there was nothing else to see until he came back holding two glasses filled a quarter of the way up with an amber liquid.

“I figured you could use a drink,” he set the glass down on the table and took a seat on the couch, draping the blanket over the back. “I hope whiskey’s fine.”

I brought the glass to my lips and tipped my head back enough for some of the alcohol to slip onto my tongue. I hadn’t had a drink since I was taken in by the Escobar family, and usually I wasn’t fond of the stronger drinks. There was something about Javi though, that made me feel an immediate comfort as soon as I swallowed the burn down my throat and into my chest.

“Thank you, again.” I placed my glass back on the table. “This really is too much.”

“I couldn’t let you be out there on the streets,” he downed the rest of his glass and placed it on the table. “But there’s one rule.”

My heart dropped. “What is it?”

He leaned closer and I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding. “You have to be honest with me.”

“I have been.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “You can’t fool me, (Y/N).”

My hands started to shake again, I took a sip of my drink to try and play it cool.

“Javier, I have no idea what you mean.” I refused to look at him, knowing the effect he had on me.

“Look at me.” Fuck. I was fucked. “Why did you really come to Colombia?”

I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. I suppose I didn’t have to tell him the entire truth, though. Just enough of the truth to satisfy the agent in front of me.

“I didn’t have anyone left. No family, no friends.” True. “My boyfriend,” lie, “was not the nicest man.” True. “I just needed to get out, and start over, so I picked the first place that was far enough away and offering work.” True, true, true.

Javier let my words settle between, almost as if he could see them on the table. Eventually he leaned back on the couch, looking satisfied enough.

“Okay,” he said. “I think you picked the wrong place to get away from men who aren’t very nice.”

I laughed, finally seeing a smile break out across his face.

“I know it's not super late, but you’re probably exhausted.” He stood up grabbing our glasses, mine now empty. “I’ll change the bed for you then you can just settle in. We’ll have to get you clothes too, but I have a shirt you can wear.”

“Oh,” I stood with him, “I thought I was just going to sleep on the couch.”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me like I was crazy. “Absolutely not. You get the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“But Javier, this is your house.” I gestured to the room, but he knew what I meant.

“And you’re my guest. So you get the bed.” He turned and kept walking to the kitchen. “Plus I hardly sleep lately, so at least someone will be using it.”

Just as he said, he went and changed his sheets and showed me where the shower was. He told me he’d be returning after grabbing some stuff at the office, but laid out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“These should fit,” he said. “Feel free to do some laundry, all the stuff is in the bathroom. We’ll get you some clothes tomorrow, and some groceries. I’m sorry I don’t have a lot.”

“That’s okay, I’ll survive.” I picked up his shirt, the well worn cotton soft against my fingertips. “I don’t need these, though, I can just wait until mine are clean.”

He took his shirt from me and laid it back on the bed. “Nonsense. As much as I like the sound of you laying around my apartment while naked, I’d rather you be comfortable.”

I blushed at his comment, and looked down at my feet. “But I don’t want to stretch out your clothes.”

I looked back up at him in time to see the way his eyes dragged over my body. My size hadn’t really been an issue in Colombia, but he was American. Flashbacks of my husband calling me every name in the book danced around in my head. I wouldn’t know what to do if Javi was the same.

He shrugged. “I’ll buy new ones. These are yours now.”

Before I could argue he walked away. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He stopped in the doorway and turned back to me, his eyes burning. “You’re safe here. I promise. Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you again, Javier.” I watched him walk away, his broad shoulders tense with the weight of the world.

I threw my clothes into the washing machine, not caring that he already had some there. I decided it would probably be nice of me to run his clothes through, considering he was giving a stranger free reign in his home. After pressing start I stood back and caught my reflection in the mirror. Just a month ago I was dreaming of what Javi’s voice would sound like on the phone, and next thing I knew I was standing naked in his bathroom while washing his clothes.

The shower helped soothe my muscles and I felt brand new as I put on the outfit Javi had provided. The sweatpants must have been quite big on him, since they fit pretty well other than being a bit tight around my hips and butt, and the shirt was definitely tight everywhere, especially my chest.

Luckily all I was going to be doing was sleeping in them. I changed the laundry over into the dryer and climbed into his bed. The beds I had with the Escobar’s certainly weren’t bad, since he had enough money to make sure we were all comfortable enough at night. But even though Javi’s bed wasn’t top dollar I found the safety of it pulled me into a deep sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, I only know I woke up with a start. I sat up suddenly, panting and sweaty, my heart racing. Javi stood in the doorway, also slightly out of breath.

“Sorry,” he averted his gaze. He was wearing his jacket again and still had his shoes on. “I just came in and heard yelling. Nightmare?”

My breathing slowed down but I couldn’t talk yet. I nodded my head, embarrassment washing over me.

“It’s okay, I have them too.” He looked at me then. This agent who carried such a dangerous weapon everywhere he went suddenly seemed so soft. “I brought some food home. I was gonna save it for the morning for you, but if you’re hungry now you could always join me in the living room.”

“Okay,” I squeaked out. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Once he had left I made my way to the bathroom. Our laundry was done, which meant I could put my underwear back on so I wouldn’t be so hot when I slept. I kept the sweatpants on for when I would be in his presence though, and splashed some cool water on my face. I was going to change my shirt, feeling self-conscious in the stretch of the fabric across my chest and belly, but when my stomach growled I kept my head up and walked to his living room. I was too hungry to care. He was sitting on the couch again, with a soft, red t-shirt tucked into another pair of his sweatpants. His eyes followed me as I entered the room and sat in the same chair I had been in before, my food that he got me already prepared on the table.

“Enchiladas,” he said, his eyes glancing down at his shirt stretched over my chest before popping back up to my face. “I hope that’s alright. There’s a great takeout place just around the corner.”

I inhaled the wonderful scent of the food in front of me, mingled with the smoky fragrance of the man not much further away.

“Wow,” I breathed, “it smells amazing.”

My stomach grumbled again, causing us to break into laughter. I took a bite and hummed around my food, loving the flavours that mixed together. Tata and I had made some wonderful food, she taught me a lot, but just like the bed, the essence of safety is what sealed the deal.

We ate in silence, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. When I was finished he cleared my place without asking, and came and sat down on the couch when he was done.

“How are you feeling now?” He pulled a cigarette out of his jacket that was strewn across the back of the couch.

“Better. Much better.” I sat back, feeling full and sleepy again. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I just need to figure something else out.”

“As long as you’re okay that figuring something else out might take a long time,” he took a drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke billow toward the ceiling. “The only other thing I can think of is sending you to the states.”

I blanched at the thought, my eyes giving away my feelings.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “(Y/N), you can stay here as long as you need. As long as it takes.”

“I just don’t want to put you out of house and home. You don’t even know me.”

He shook his head and waved his hand. “You’re not putting me out of anything. You’re staying here and that’s that.”

I nodded and focused my attention on the glow between his lips, produced by every inhale.

“On one condition, of course.”

My attention snapped back to him. “I thought there was already a condition. I have to tell you the truth.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re working on that one. This one’s different.” He leaned forward and placed his cigarette into the ashtray, then focused intently on me, smiling wickedly. “You have to call me Javi.”

I felt my lips moving on their own, a smile stretching across my face. “Then you have to earn it.”

He bit his lip, his smile growing more. Then stuck out his hand. I placed my palm in his, relishing in the warmth.

“Deal.”

The next morning I walked into the kitchen wearing my own clothes. Javi was already awake, fully dressed in his workwear once more, and making coffee.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gruff with sleep causing my stomach to flutter. “I was thinking we can make a list and go get some groceries this morning.”

“That sounds good,” I accepted the cup he held out to me, the warmth radiating through my hands and up my arms. “Don’t you have to work, though?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I can go in later. Steve’s got it. He’ll call if he really needs me.” He opened up a drawer and pulled out a notebook and pencil. “What kind of stuff do you like to get?”

“What do you have now?”

“Nothing.” He pursed his lips. “Coffee. That’s it.”

I took a sip of said coffee, cringing at the taste.

“We should probably get cream and sugar.” Javi started writing.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not a strong coffee kind of girl.” I chuckled and placed the mug back on the counter.

He reached over and took my cup, pouring its contents into his already empty one.

“All good.” He took a sip and continued writing on the notepad. “I’ll put eggs and toast, those are classic.”

I nodded, humming. “What kind of stuff do you usually like to eat?”

He paused, thinking for a moment. “Take out. Coffee.”

Javi looked at me as I stared at him, mouth agape.

“Javier, how often do you usually eat a meal?”

He laughed. “Hey, take out counts as a meal.”

“Fair point, but how often do you get take out?”

Silence settled over us. In a turn of events, he was the one struggling to tell the truth.

“Every once in a while.” He averted his gaze and took a sip of his coffee.

“What?!” I was shocked at this. “You barely eat! How are you even surviving? Do you know how physically draining your job is? Maybe you’d have caught Escobar by now if you actually ate breakfast.”

He fully laughed, throwing his head back. The sound was like music to my ears.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I promise to do better.”

I groaned, ignoring the nickname. “Okay, well what take out do you usually like? I know we can add the ingredients for enchiladas to that list, but what else?”

Together we stood there in his kitchen while he finished his second cup of coffee and we made our list. When I was satisfied with what we had we set out to the store.

“Wait, I don’t have any money.” I realized my purse had been left back at the house they had saved me from. “I can’t let you pay for all this.”

He shook his head, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting out the window with a cigarette in hand. “Don’t even worry about it, you’re keeping me alive at this point. Plus, the government is paying for it, really. You can’t say no to that.”

We laughed and continued driving along.

“We do have your purse, by the way. We can pick it up on the way back.” He came to a stop in front of the market. “We had to take all the money, though, considering it was from Escobar. But everything else is there.”

I nodded. Great. I had nothing to my name, and barely even my name.

We shopped side by side, grabbing what was on our list with a few extra snacks as well. It was surprisingly very domestic, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that good just doing tasks with somebody. It was probably when my husband and I had first started dating, when he was still trying.

The entire time we were there I was still making sure to keep an eye out, and I was sure he was doing the same thing. His gun was tucked into the back of his jeans as always, but he still did his best to keep me at ease with our steady conversation about which food items were better for their price.

We also picked up some toiletries that I needed. Luckily he had an extra toothbrush at his place, but I missed my shampoo and conditioner.

“What about body wash? I’m sure you want something that smells better than mine,” Javier asked while reading some of the labels on the bottles in front of him.

“Actually, I don’t mind your body wash. It smells nice.” I picked out my conditioner and put it in the full cart.

He bit his lip and reached for a bottle. “This one is vanilla oat. That would be nice, right? And there’s a matching body lotion.”

I chucked, walking up beside him to look at the labels. “Most men don’t seem to care about body lotion.”

“Hey, I pay attention.” He turned to look at me, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile tugging on his lips. “I just don’t always apply my knowledge to myself.”

He popped open the cap on the body lotion and held it out for me to smell. I inhaled the sweet scent, my eyes closing. It was really nice, I loved vanilla. He smelled it next and his reaction was the same as mine.

“Okay, yeah, this is really nice. We’re getting this.” He put the body wash and lotion in the cart, and we continued walking. “I might have to steal it from you, though.”

I laughed, but my heart felt warm at the thought of us smelling the same. I also loved the image of him taking care of himself, and even just enjoying self care. It was also difficult to try not to get hot thinking about him in the shower.

I grabbed some deodorant, and more toothpaste because we were almost out. He didn’t bat an eye when I grabbed the tampons and pads that I needed, and even offered to grab some for me whenever I needed them, since I couldn’t leave the apartment without him.

We finished up and loaded the groceries into his truck, then drove toward his work. I was excited to get my purse back, even though there wasn’t much in it. It was just nice to have something other than the clothes on my back that was all mine.

We walked into the office and I struggled not to feel completely out of place. My t-shirt and jeans weren’t much different from what Javi was wearing, but I was sure everybody could tell I did not belong there. It was hard to ignore their eyes on us.

Steve met us outside of an office with a smile on his face.

“Well, hello there,” he said, glancing between the two of us before giving Javi an even bigger smile. “Get a lot of sleep last night?”

“Murphy,” Javi said, a warning in his voice.

“I’m kidding!” Steve laughed and gestured toward me. “You actually look pretty well rested, how are you doing?”

“I’m alright, thank you,” I answered.

Steve led us into the room where a box sat on a shelf with all my belongings inside of it. He pulled it out and set it on the table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, we had to take everything out of your bag. Just to make sure there wasn’t anything useful. For us anyway,” Steve explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

I took my purse out of the plastic bag it was in and started to take out the rest of my belongings as well. All that was out of it was my wallet, with two pictures of my nieces, and the folded up card that was now unfolded and facing up. Javi reached down and lifted it up, smiling as he read his name. I reached out and snatched it from his hands, throwing it in my purse.

Once I was done I thanked Steve again. He and Javi discussed what was going to happen when Javi came back later that afternoon. They didn’t seem to mind that I was right there as they discussed their plans, and I asked Javi about it when we were back at his place.

“Well, do I have a reason not to trust you?” He asked while putting away the groceries I handed him from our bags on the table.

I thought about that question and realized that while I wasn’t sure how much I could trust him, he trusted me fully.

“Do you think if given the chance you’d go back to the Escobar family?” He stood up from putting away the carton of eggs in the fridge. Javi was completely serious, and held eye contact while he awaited my answer.

I shook my head. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, they wouldn’t let me.”

He nodded. “Okay, then that settles it. Hand me the milk, please?”

I continued to hand him groceries as he went about putting them in their rightful places. When we were done we sat down and had more enchiladas from around the corner, because according to Javi you can’t go grocery shopping without getting take out immediately after. I didn’t argue, they had been so good the night before that my mouth was watering before he even entered the house with them.

“Tomorrow I can take you clothes shopping. Don’t worry though, you can have your space, I’ll just be in the background keeping an eye out.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and folded it up onto his plate. “I’d let you go alone but you know why that can’t happen.”

“I understand,” I said, mirroring his actions before standing up and clearing our plates. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”

He stood and stretched his arms over his head, causing his shirt to tighten over his torso. I immediately started washing the dishes so I wouldn’t be caught staring.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he walked over to me, grabbing a towel so he could dry while I washed, “I feel like I’d be pretty happy with anything you make.”

I chuckled and kept my eyes on the dishes, ignoring the heat of his body next to mine.

“Of course, you don’t have to make anything. I certainly don’t expect food when I get home, and I can always make something quick or grab something on the way.”

“Javier, I’m going to be stuck here, bored and alone.” I turned to him to find he was already watching me. “You’ve taken me in, and are offering me sanctuary in your home, your space. Please, let me do this for you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, my eyes flicked to the movement, then up to his mouth for a fraction of a second before landing on his eyes once again.

“Okay,” he said, nodding slightly. “Thank you.”

I smiled. “You should get yourself to work, I’ll be fine.”

While he was at work I showered once again, throwing my clothes (and the ones he gave me) into the laundry again, and then napped for a few hours. I couldn’t believe how exhausted I felt, but the comfort of Javi’s bed and knowing I was safe as long as I was there lulled me to sleep every time I shut my eyes for longer than a second.

I had just woken up from a nap when his phone rang from the kitchen. I rolled out of bed, realizing that the sky was dark. I had slept for much longer than I anticipated.

I rushed to the kitchen to answer his phone, only to hear his voice on the other end.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He sounded drained but my stomach still did a flip at the nickname. “I’m just finishing up some stuff, but I wanted to let you know I’m a bit late tonight. Just didn’t want you waiting up or anything.”

I cleared my throat, since it was thick with sleep. “No, no, don’t worry. I actually just woke up from a nap, so I’m only starting supper now.”

He chuckled. “Alright, sleepyhead. I’ll see you in two hours tops.”

“See you then!”

I busied myself with preparing the ingredients I needed. After some deliberation I settled on arepas, one of my favourites that I made with Tata. Even though the memories seeped in as I cooked it still helped to have some nicer ones mingle in. The brighter parts of my day were relaxing with the children or cooking. At least I got to keep practicing the recipes I had been taught and ones I fell in love with.

Javier came through the front door just as I finished up, setting dishes out and tidying up the ones I didn’t need anymore.

“Dios mío, it smells amazing in here.” He followed the scent of my cooking into the kitchen and I wished I could take a picture of the look on his face.

The look of awe that settled onto his features was enough to make my heart stutter. He looked absolutely exhausted, but the gratefulness that broke through his slouched shoulders and tousled hair nearly camouflaged it.

“Long day?” I asked, taking out glasses for the drink I knew he needed.

“You could say that again,” he admitted, walking over to where he kept his whiskey. “Which is strange because I didn’t go in until the afternoon, but it still felt like I was there forever.”

He sauntered over and poured his beverage of choice into the two glasses.

“This looks absolutely fantastic.” He capped the bottle and looked at what I had prepared. “Arepas? I haven’t had those in a while.”

“Why don’t you grab a shower and get changed, it needs to cool down a bit anyway.” I shooed him away with a wave of my hand, causing him to laugh.

He drank down his glass. “Yes ma’am.” He saluted and walked into the direction of his room.

I rolled my eyes and plated everything. I was almost nervous for him to try my cooking. What if it wasn’t up to par? Especially since I was just learning how to cook Colombian dishes. I knew he wasn’t Colombian, but he would still know the difference between authentic and a failure.

As soon as he was done with his shower he was sitting at the table, pulling on a t-shirt as he did so. I tried my hardest to ignore the way his skin glistened from his shower, and nearly choked when I saw how low his sweatpants were sitting on his hips. I could see the start of hair dusting his lower abdomen, leading down into the thick material. I didn’t need to imagine where it led to, and focused on drinking the whiskey he had poured for me earlier. I also couldn’t quite bite back my smile when the scent of vanilla wafted over the table to meet me.

Turns out I didn’t need to worry about what he’d think of my food. He took a bite of his arepa and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He moaned around his food, causing a warmth to grow in my lower belly.

“Fuck, this is amazing,” he said once he had swallowed. “Absolutely incredible.”

I blushed. “Thanks, Javier.”

He smiled, one corner of his lips tilting higher than the other. “Where have you been all my life? This is the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

This caused me to roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

We laughed together and continued to eat. He told me as much about his day as he was authorized to, and I let him make fun of me for sleeping mine away. When we were finished he insisted on tidying up and doing the dishes.

“You prepared this meal, I clean it up. Those are the rules.”

“Fine, fine,” I said, giving in way too easily.

We sat on his couch talking for about an hour, just about our lives before Colombia. I didn’t tell him much about before I left, and mostly stuck to childhood stories. He told me about his father’s ranch back in Texas, and how stubborn he was. I joked that I could tell Javier probably inherited that trait.

After a while I felt like I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My head was resting on the back of the couch, my body angled sideways toward Javi. Every time I blinked my eyelids stayed closed longer and longer, like they were getting heavier and heavier.

“You should get some more sleep,” he said, reaching over and taking my glass out of my hand before I dropped it. “We’ll go get you some more clothes tomorrow, even though I do like the look of you in mine.”

I was too tired to react to that, and instead said, “yeah, okay.”

I stood up on my own and shuffled to his room, turning back and calling out good night before I laid down and fell asleep before I could hear his answer.

“Buenas noches, cariño.”

[emma-cantmakeuphermind]

Just A Project | III

Nathan Prescott x Reader

Masterlist

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Warnings: nathan being nathan, maybe ooc, and swearing

Words: 905

We take about 20-30 minutes shooting ideas back and forth, getting an idea of each other's style. I learned that Nathan mostly shoots in black and white, and prefers a more gloomy tone. Not really a shocker, but good to know. To be honest, we both have two completely different styles, as I go for more fun and calm feeling tones. Combining our styles will be a challenge for sure.

The room goes quiet, both of us bored out of our minds, as we really have nothing to talk about, just the pictures to take. Nathan is still fidgeting with his camera and I take this moment to take him in. He’s seated in his desk chair across from me, leaning down forearms resting on his knees. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt that fits his torso just right. I focus on his hands, they’re a bit shaky, not enough to notice with a passing glance. My eyes travel to his arms, noticing the prominent veins that travel down to the back of his hands. The black shirt hugs his biceps snugly. Nathan isn’t buff by any means, but I’d be a liar if I said he didn’t have any muscle. My focus shifts to his face, his mouth is slightly parted, to match his eyes in concentration. His eyes are the nicest shade of blue, I have to move on before I get lost in them. His dirty blonde hair is perfectly in place, except one strand in the front has fallen, resting against his forehead. Nathan may be a dick, but damn, I have to admit the boy is attractive.

My eyes are still lingering over his figure as he looks up at me. A red hue spreads across my face, embarrassed that I’ve been caught staring. His stare is cold, into my soul, unfaltering. “What?” He says with a bite. I stammer for a moment, not sure of what to say. “I was just, uhm, admiring how calm you look while focused.” Not a complete lie, it was a different side of Nathan that I’ve never really seen before. He blinks, taking a moment to process what I had just said. He looks back down at his camera and says, “Well, don’t. It’s weird, nerd.”

I drop my gaze. The tension in the room now is so thick. I want to go back to my dorm, I’m starting to feel out of place, not that I didn’t before, it’s just less comfortable now. Nathan stands up putting his camera down on his desk. “I guess we’re done for now. We can meet tomorrow or whatever.” He says lazily walking over to his bed and stands near it for a moment waiting for me to reply. I nod slowly, standing up. “Yeah, that’s good with me.” I make my way to the door, but before I can even mumble out a ‘goodbye’ Nathan speaks. “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t really asking.” His face looks serious, as always, but his voice has a joking tone to it. Huh, that’s new.

“The track field, around lunch?” He continues. I hum in agreement, “Sounds good.” I say, as I’m free all day tomorrow, today is Friday after all. He suddenly holds out his hand, like he’s waiting for me to do something. I look at him with confusion. “Your phone.” He states blankly. Still confused I sorta tilt my head to the side to wait for him to continue. He sighs, and steps forward a bit, hand still outstretched. “Give me your phone so I can give you my number.” Oh. I look at him wide eyed for a moment before finally pulling out my phone, walking a few steps forward to hand it to him. He takes it and enters his number. “I’m trusting you to keep my number private. I’ve already had it leaked a few times before, and I’m sick of random assholes trying to threaten me.” He says before he looks back up and hands me back his phone.

His tone was nonchalant but I can’t help the sorrowful expression that appears on my face. I shake my head, “No, I would never.” He rolls his eyes and looks down, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says at first.” I just stare at him for a moment, actually sympathizing with Nathan. “And wipe that ‘kicked puppy look’ off your face. I’m fine.” He finalizes. I look down, unsure of what to say next so I just back up towards the door. “Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Nathan.” I say opening the door. “Bye, nerd.” He says before the door shuts.

I look down at my phone as I walk back to my room, go to Nathan’s new contact, and start a new message. I start typing.

“hey, its y/n :)” 5:08

Simple and to the point. I pocket my phone and walk down the stairs, as I reach the bottom, my phone dings. I grab it and look at the notification.

N: “y/n?” 5:10

I frown for a moment, thinking he forgot my name and isn’t connecting the dots, before he starts typing again.

N: “i only know a nerd” 5:10

I smile for a moment and roll my eyes. I type out a sarcastic laugh with the eye roll emoji and continue my journey to my dorm. Perhaps this project won’t be so bad.

[vroomian]

Kinda rough points for the platonic ideal of a Gerard. Just ideas at this point lol

—

Jason shot and wounded stumbles into a maze of alleys, hears someone singing and playing the guitar. That’s fucking weird ™ Because people don’t sing in crime alley.

He follows the music to an abandoned building, climbs in, and stumbles across a girl who seems very unimpressed with the whole situation. Her hair is, of course, black and curly, her skin is pale, and her eyes are a very dark blue magnified by her thick glasses. Her ratty oversized sweater makes her look even smaller than she is.

Jason adds another point to the “am I actually cursed to deal with Wayne nonsense for the rest of my unlife ??” collum, because this kid is adoption bait, down to the deadpan look on her face.

Jason can’t get this Obviously Homeless Child to leave , because ‘I was here first’ is a pretty good justification in crime alley. Then it’s too late and the people who shot Jason show up outside, and they’re both trapped.

“Fucking really,” the kid says flatly.

Jason kinda likes the twerp despite himself. What a tiny asshole.

“I’ll lead him away,” Jason says, despite being Swiss cheesed. “Stay here.”

“Normally I'd agree,” the kid says, “but your blood is mostly on the outside. If you go out you’ll die.”

She’s right. Jason’s still not about to let this kid be killed because of him.

the kid looks out the window and sighs like he’s deeply annoying. “Okay. Fine. I’ll take care of it I guess. Can I have a gun. “

What.

“What,” Jason says.

The kid makes grabby hands towards the gun in his hands. Jason let’s her take it because it’s out of bullets anyway and he’s very confused.

“Wait no,” Jason says. “Do not go out there and get in a gun fight,”

“Obviously,” she says. She holds the gun kind of awkwardly, but the way she clicked the safely off speaks of familiarity. “But if red hood dies, no one keeps Batman out of the narrows.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because Batman won’t let metas live in Gotham,” she says and leans out the window before Jayson can stop her. Pressure builds and builds until jaysons hair stood on end, instincts screaming at him. The girl's eyes gain pinpricks of glowing red in the iris.

“It’s high noon,” she says, an odd echo to her voice, as if she was calling down a long tunnel.

It’s like three am. Jason can still feel the blinding heat of a harsh midday sun on his face.

There are eight men in the alley below them, and one of them points upwards at the girl — but it’s too late.

“Draw.”

The girl pulls the trigger . The crack is defaning, even through the sound filters of Jason’s helmet. The heat vanishes, but the wariness doesn’t.

Down below, all eight men collapse at the same time. Jason can make out the neat little holes in each of their foreheads. Clean headshots.

The girl shakes her head, hands Jason the gun back and rubs her eyes. “Ow. Hate doing that.”

“What was that????”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, hold this thing,” she tosses him a baseball. “Embrace tranquility or whatever.”

“???” Jason says when the base ball begins to float and glow, this time gold -- and matching the pinpricks of gold light in the girl’s irises. Before he has time to drop it, he can feel his chest begin to knit together. “You can heal?”

“No,” Her face is completely straight. “It’s definitely not me. There’s no metas in gotham. Especially not in the narrows. That’d just be asking to get captured and sold.”

Jason glanced out the window, at the eight dead men, and the calm face of the girl. She couldn’t be more than twelve but there was no regret, or hesitation in her expression. Not the first time she’d killed.

“I can put you up in a safe house,” Jason says.

“Haha, death first. I’m not getting involved with your caped nonsense. I’m going to go to college and become an accountant.”

Argue about it till the orb fizzles out and Jason agrees to leave reluctantly. He knows how alley kids are, and forcing the issue won’t help.

“Whats your name?” He asks.

“……Gerard” she says, not changing her expression.

“You don’t look like a Gerard.”

“I’ll have you know that I am the platonic ideal of a Gerard. If you look Gerard up online you’ll find me and only me.”

Man Jason likes this kid. “Sure. See you around Gerry.”

“Man I hope not. Don’t forget to clean up your mess. I like this spot and I don’t need eu de corpse outside all day.”

Brat. Jason goes out the window, baseball in hand. Behind him, there’s a moment of quiet, and then the music starts up again. 

“Now Jesus died for them its true. What’s a devil to do? When the saints go marching in, I won’t be there because I love my sins…”

[madsworld15]

Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me Chapter 4 Part 1

This isn't nearly as long as the sections I usually post, but I stopped at the best stopping point for this section. This part of Chapter 4 is in Justin POV.

Please enjoy! Thanks always to my lovely pals @winderlylandchime @maryp50 and @lostcol

July

Justin’s hand control was getting better, day by day, but he still struggled to draw or paint for an extended period of time. It wasn’t anything super frustrating; it just prevented him from quickly getting anywhere with the ideas he had for art pieces. His mother had been insistent that he “keep up the work in OT,” while Emmett and Daphne would smile at him and say, “You’ve come so far!”

The only person in Justin’s life who didn’t insist that he be fine with the functionality of his hand was Brian. The older man wouldn’t praise him or begrudge him about it. In fact, more often than not, Justin found Brian was ambivalent about what was going on around him. Pride weekend had been a great example of how much Brian could do the “couple thing” when he wanted to. But, since then, their conversations had been more vague and distant. Brian still allowed Justin to live with him, but he was back to working all the time or going out to Babylon until the wee hours. 

Justin didn’t care as much, considering he was now back to working at the diner a couple of nights a week. It was slower at night, so Justin could ease himself into being around crowds again. Plus, when his hand got tired and started to shake, he had extended periods between customers where he could let it relax. 

“Can I ask you something?” Justin approached Emmett, who sat at the counter with a low-cut tank in bright green and pleather pants to match.

“Sure, baby.” Emmett put his fork down, rested his hands atop one another, and gave Justin his full attention, “What is it?”

“Do you think Brian is annoyed that he still has to keep an eye on me? I know it’s been months, and if I ask him, he ignores me and continues to let me stay.” Justin bit his lip nervously.

“Hmm.” Emmett paused, “Brian is really hard to read on a good day. But has he threatened to kick you out yet?”

“No.” Justin shrugged looking his best friend up and down.

“Well, then, you are still in good hands. If Brian is annoyed by you, he will not so politely ask you to leave. I’ve seen him do it to Michael once when he accidentally spilled beer on Brian’s new designer couch.” Emmett reached out and grabbed Justin’s hand.

“Besides, from what I hear. You don’t need much caretaking these days.” Emmett winked at him and motioned to the diner around them.

His message was loud and clear. Justin was simply making a mountain out of a molehill. He was back to working and doing art; however, the process was slow. There was no reason to worry that he was annoying Brian. 

So, then, why won’t he talk to me like we once did?

After helping out a customer on the other side of the diner, Justin came back over to where Emmett sat. The charming Southerner was done eating his meal, but he made no move to leave. Justin appreciated that he seemed to be hanging out for Justin.

“Okay. So he hasn’t kicked me out yet. Then explain why he doesn’t come by the diner while I’m working.” Justin gave Emmett a raised eyebrow look.

“Well, now that Brian is partner, he has to work longer, harder hours.” Emmett shrugged, but then he leaned over the counter to be closer to Justin for the next set of words out of his mouth.

“Add in that he’s extremely attracted to you physically, and he wants to respect your boundaries. So, he has to find alternatives.” Emmett’s eyes swam with joy and excitement at what that meant for his friend.

“What changed that he avoids me now? I mean, he’s been attracted to me physically since before I finally agreed to be with him.” Justin shrugged, still not convinced that Brian’s distance wasn’t a bad thing.

“You guys now live together, and you told me yourself that you share the same bed.” Emmett gave him a pointed look, “Do you know how often Brian shares his bed with someone without having sex?”

“I’d guess very rarely,” Justin whispered, wiping the counter off with his rag.

“I’ve known Brian upwards of a decade, and I would say I’ve only heard of it happening one other time. He was drunk, and Michael was there to comfort him after a nasty round with his dad.” Emmett shrugged.

Just then, Alex came into the diner yawning, his eyes only half-alert. He gave Justin a forced smile and stepped behind the counter to put on his apron.

“Hey, Justin. Slow night?” Alex looked around at the lack of patronage.

“Yeah. But Babylon is closing, so there are sure to be some stragglers coming in soon.” Justin handed over his order pad and took off the apron he was wearing. “Have a good night, Alex.”

Emmett walked with Justin all the way to Brian’s loft. It was 2 am, and Justin was exhausted, so the two friends barely uttered more than ten words between them. This was becoming a bit of a routine anytime Emmett happened to be at the diner during Justin’s shift. He would hang out until Justin got off, and then he would walk the young man home. Justin’s attackers had been arrested the Monday after Pride, but everyone was still on edge. Especially Brian, Justin, and Emmett. 

“So, Brian told me the trial is coming up soon.” Emmett tried to make conversation as they approached Brian’s building.

“Yeah. Debbie wants me to go, but my mom and Brian think it’s probably not a good idea since I’m still having nightmares and mini freakouts when strangers get too close.” Justin reached into his bag to get his keys out. His eyes darted all around him as a precaution.

“What do you want to do?” Emmett placed a protective hand on Justin’s shoulder and held it there while the younger man unlocked the front door.

“Honestly? I have no idea. Part of me wants to see the judge nail the bastards. But on the other hand, what if they get off? I don’t want to be in the room when that happens.” Justin shrugged as they both climbed into the freight elevator.

Arriving on the top floor, Justin could hear light music and voices coming from the loft. It was weird because Brian rarely had anyone come over now that Justin was staying with him. He looked at Emmett, who shrugged but didn’t look too concerned. Perhaps Michael had come over to drink with Brian like they sometimes did. 

Justin slid the door open and was immediately met with the visual of Brian fucking some guy over the back of the couch. He felt the air leave his lungs the minute his eyes landed on the brunette – his face scrunched up in a mixture of effort and ecstasy. Justin had always known that Brian slept with anything that moved. It was never a secret, even after they started considering themselves together. But, once Justin had agreed to move in with Brian, they had agreed that Brian wouldn’t fuck anyone in the loft. That was the only rule Justin ever put on Brian and their relationship.

“Oh, hey.” Brian smiled at Justin over the top of his latest trick. With one last groan and jab of his hip, Brian came into the man under him and then collapsed.

Justin could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, which he didn’t dare let Brian see. In fact, he didn’t want Brian to have the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to him at all. Without a word to his boyfriend, Justin crossed over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. Emmett silently followed him. Once they were a bit away from Brian, Emmett addressed the situation.

“Do you want me to stay? Do you want to come home with me for tonight?” Emmett’s eyes were brimming with emotion like Justin had never seen before. And after he shook his head, he saw Emmett throw the dirtiest look over his shoulder at Brian.

While he knew he hadn’t known anyone in his newfound family for more than a year at this point, Justin had never seen Emmett be less than understanding toward Brian. He didn’t always approve, but he’d never before been blatantly disgusted by Brian’s behavior until now. Emmett leaned over and wrapped Justin in a hug while placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m just a call away, baby if you change your mind,” Emmett said loud enough for Brian to hear. 

Then, Emmett and the trick left with as much fanfare as they’d both probably arrived.

Brian pulled on some pants but didn’t fasten them. Instead, he sauntered over to where Justin was still standing in the kitchen and attempted to kiss the younger man. Justin ducked out of his touch and moved away from the man entirely.

“What’s got your dick in a twist?” Brian’s voice was on the verge of anger, and Justin knew this wouldn’t be a fun conversation, but he didn’t care. 

“I come home from work to find you on the couch…” Justin muttered, motioning toward the spot where Brian and his trick had just been. His frustration and anger seeped out more than he had intended.

“How is this anything new? You knew going into this that I fuck any guy I want and have no remorse about it.” Brian slammed the refrigerator door shut after grabbing his own bottle of water. “We’re not fucking married, Justin!”

“No! But we did have an agreement!” Justin stepped closer to Brian as his temper flared, “You promised you wouldn’t fuck anyone here at the loft.”

Brian didn’t respond. Instead, he just scoffed.

“This is my loft. I don’t have to fucking answer to you. You’re not my fucking wife!”

“You’re right. I’m not!” Justin started and then continued just as passionately, “If you wanted me to move out, you could have just used your words and told me to get the fuck out.” Justin’s chest heaved with all his pent-up anger.

“I’m well aware that you don’t share your personal space with anyone for longer than it takes for you to fuck them. So, why’d you let me stay here? Huh? Was it because you felt guilty? Because I’m not going to stick around and be at the mercy of someone’s pity!” Justin moved about the loft, gathering up some of his things and throwing them into his duffle. He wasn’t sure where he would end up, but he knew he had to get out of there.

He half expected Brian to say something, anything to get him to stay, but he didn’t. It was just as well. Brian didn’t want him around anymore anyway. Justin might as well move out now and find his own way. He could go back to living with Daphne now that things with his injuries had settled down. But, for tonight, he would go somewhere else to avoid waking Daphne up at 3 am.

With one final look back at Brian, who was standing in the kitchen still, trying to make sense of what was going on, his eyes still angry, Justin left.

Justin walked until he realized his feet had carried him all the way to Debbie’s house, just around the corner from the diner. He hadn’t ever been to her home unexpectedly before, but something in his gut told him that she would welcome him in with open arms. Sure enough, he’d barely just finished knocking when the door swung open to her smiling face.

“Sunshine! Imagine seeing you here. Where’s Brian?” She looked around behind him as if perhaps Brian was hiding in the shadows.

“We kind of had…” Justin couldn’t even bring himself to say fight because a fight would imply that Brian cared at all. Which his lack of a reaction when Justin left said otherwise. “Anyway, could I crash here tonight?”

Debbie grabbed him around his shoulder and ushered him into her front room as she said, “Of course, honey. My house is always open.”

“I promise I will be out of your hair tomorrow. I am going to ask Daphne if I can move back in with her. I’m doing much better now.” Justin paused long enough to lick his lips and look at Debbie’s face instead of the room at large, “It’s time.”

“So, Brian kicked you out huh?” Debbie scoffed. Her apparent disdain for Brian’s behavior dripping from her every word. “Wouldn’t say I’m surprised.”

“I am.” Vic said from where he now stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Things seemed different this time.”

“A leopard never changes his spots.” Debbie pointed at her brother, “Brian might try to do the right thing but in the end his selfishness wins out.”

Then without another word to Vic she turned back to Justin and motioned him to follow her. “C’mon hon. I can get Michael’s old room set up for you for the night.”

Vic gave his shoulder a squeeze as Justin walked past the older man. “Don’t make any quick decisions about him. Give him a chance.”

“A chance? Justin has given that man so many chances. Why should now be different?” Debbie screeched from the top of the stairs.

“Because, sis. He’s under alot of pressure right now. You know I saw him taking his mother to church yesterday. Brian Kinney, in a church.” Vic once again defended the brunette.

“Oh.” Debbie paused with a load of clean sheets and blankets in her hands. “Yeah. You should sleep on it sunshine. Give him some room.”

Justin wanted desperately to ask what it was about Brian’s mother that immediately changed Debbie’s tune about his behavior, but he could tell from the way Vic and Debbie were exchanging looks that he wouldn’t get anywhere. Instead, the blonde took the blankets from Debbie and went into the room he’d stayed at a few weeks prior when Brian had been out of town.