#my computer kept crashing while making this

[enviedenvie]

🌙🔥Yuezula 🔥🌙

[teaah-art]

The strongest and loneliest man in the world, written by god herself

Piece for @orv-gotcha-for-gaza

Prompt: 'Han Sooyoung holding a pen to some paper, and the ink trailing down into a dark scene of Ways of Survival', requested by @noteinabottle168

[bbbartblogelectricboogaloo]

This is a card I drew for my bestie, since her birthday is coming up~

[ducktoo]

How to take care of Jiwon

IVE's Liz x Reader

Note: Anon, hope this was something you were asking for (I think). Twas' a fun prompt and I enjoyed it frfr. Feel free to DM me ur thoughts!

(This German girl do be looking cute-)

“Again?”

You don��t even look up from your computer screen. You already know who it is.

There’s a quiet giggle, followed by the sound of someone shuffling through your things. You sigh, rubbing your temple before shooting a glare at the intruder currently invading your workspace—none other than Kim Jiwon(or Liz), your childhood friend turned global idol, standing beside your desk like she owns the place.

“Can you not touch my stuff?” you grumble, snatching a framed photo from her hands before she can get any ideas.

She blinks at you innocently. “You keep this here?”

You glance down at the picture, already knowing which one she’s referring to. It’s an old, slightly faded photo from elementary school—Liz, missing her two front teeth, flashing a peace sign, while you stand beside her with the grumpiest expression imaginable. You had never liked taking pictures, but Liz had insisted back then. Looking at it now, you don’t even remember why you agreed to keep it on your desk.

“It’s just decoration,” you mutter, setting it back down.

Liz hums, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Sure, sure.”

She doesn’t leave. Of course, she doesn’t. You’re already used to this little routine.

Despite her packed schedule, Liz always finds time to drop by your office whenever she’s at the company. She claims it’s because she’s curious about what you do, but you know better. The real reason? She just enjoys annoying you.

She picks up your stationery, taps at your keyboard, sometimes even steals your coffee—because “staff coffee tastes different.” You tolerate it because, well… it’s Liz. You’ve known her since you were kids.

It’s still crazy how you both ended up here…especially after how you reunited.

-

To this day, you still don’t know how the hell that situation happened.

You had only been working at Starship Entertainment for about a month at that point. Just a regular staff member, trying not to get scolded, running around delivering paperwork, managing schedules—nothing out of the ordinary.

Then came that time.

One of your first bigger assignments had been to handle some logistics for IVE’s new comeback. Simple enough. Make sure the equipment was working, ensure the space was ready, help with any requests—it was routine.

What wasn’t routine was somehow ending up in a storage closet with a girl in a hoodie, a bucket of spilled cleaning supplies, and the worst case of déjà vu you’ve ever experienced.

…Let’s back up.

That day, you had been in a rush, carrying a stack of documents for the management team when you took a wrong turn down a hallway you didn’t usually use. It led to one of the storage rooms, where cleaning supplies and extra equipment were kept.

The door was slightly open.

Then, without warning—

CRASH.

Something—or someone—barreled right into you, sending both of you stumbling backwards into the closet.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Silence.

For a moment, you just laid there on the floor, trying to process the fact that you had just been body-slammed into a janitor’s closet. Your head throbbed. You could hear the faint creak of a mop falling somewhere nearby.

And then—

“…Wait. Grumpy?”

You froze.

That voice. That stupidly familiar voice.

Slowly, you looked up.

And there, crouched in the dim light, staring at you like she had just seen a ghost—was the one and only. Your childhood friend. The same girl you hadn’t seen in years.

In a janitor’s closet. With you.

What. The. Hell.

“…What are you doing here?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

You stared at her. “What are you doing around here in the management area?”

“I asked first!”

“I work here!”

That seemed to short-circuit her brain for a second. Her eyes widened, then darted to the staff ID clipped to your shirt. Slowly, realization dawned on her face.

“…You work at Starship?”

“Yes?!”

"Since when?!"

"Since I got hired, duh!"

Liz opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. She blinked.

Then—

She burst out laughing.

“You—You actually work here?” she wheezed, clutching her stomach. “Oh my God, this is unreal. This is so unreal.”

"Tsk." You scowled. “Glad to see my suffering is entertaining you.”

“I can’t believe this! We literally grew up together, lost contact, and now you’re working for my company? This is insane.” She wiped at her eyes, still laughing. “And—wait, you of all people? You always hated dealing with people!”

“Yeah, well, life’s funny like that,” you muttered. You rubbed your temples, exhaling through your nose. “Okay, but why were you sneaking around?”

Liz suddenly looked away, suspiciously avoiding eye contact. “No reason.”

“…You were stealing snacks from the staff area again, weren’t you?”

Silence.

“…Maybe.”

Unbelievable. Some things really never changed.

-

And that was how you reunited.

You had spent a solid fifteen minutes stuck in that closet with Liz before someone finally found you two. The rest of the staff had been utterly confused, and you had to endure Liz wheezing with laughter for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, she had made it her personal mission to annoy you at work.

Which brings you to now.

“Alright, stay put. Don’t touch anything,” you warn as you stand from your desk, stretching your arms before grabbing your phone. “I need to get some files from the storage room.”

Liz, perched on the edge of your desk like she owns the place, swings her legs lazily. “No promises.”

You narrow your eyes. “I mean it. Hands off.”

She hums innocently, lips curling into a playful smile. “Of course, of course.”

You don’t trust her one bit.

Still, you leave, because you have to, but you throw one last suspicious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

The door clicks shut…and Liz immediately disregards your warning.

“Don’t touch anything,” she mocks under her breath, rolling her eyes. As if she could ever listen to that. "Bleh. What are you, my mom?"

She stretches her arms with a yawn, then lazily lets her fingers drift across your desk, poking at whatever looks mildly interesting. The keyboard? Tap. A stack of documents? Poke. Your half-empty coffee cup? Swirl.

And then she sees it.

A small, slightly worn notebook tucked beside your monitor, the corner peeking out as if daring her to take a look.

Curious, she pulls it free and flips it over in her hands. The second she reads the cover, her breath catches in her throat.

"How to Take Care of Jiwon the Annoying Child"

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, a slow, delighted smile spreads across her face.

“Oh?”

Her heart beats a little faster as she carefully flips the first page. The handwriting is neat—your handwriting. She skims over the lines, amusement bubbling in her chest.

Jiwon gets grumpy when she hasn’t eaten. Always have snacks on hand.

She giggles. “So that’s why you always have extra snacks.”

She flips to the next one.

She gets sleepy after eating too much. Don’t let her nap on the practice room floor. Would be annoying to tend to the sick Jiwon.

A small gasp escapes her lips. “Wait, is that why you always wake me up first?”

Another page.

If she’s sad, buy her ice cream. Preferably chocolate.

Her heart flutters. You really do notice everything, huh?

She keeps reading, her amusement growing. But then—

The notes start getting weirder.

If she starts humming randomly, she’s in a good mood. If she’s humming AND staring at me, she’s plotting something. Probably my usual dose of suffering.

Liz snorts. “What do you mean?”

DO NOT let her near a stray cat. She will try to take it home.

She gasps, clutching her chest. “That happened one time, trust me–”

If she says ‘Trust me,’ DO NOT TRUST HER.

Liz bursts into laughter. “Damn it! Okay, fair.”

The notes only get more ridiculous.

She once ate an entire cake by herself just to prove she could. Do NOT challenge her to food-related dares.

If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.

If she looks too cute and uses her dumb aegyo, she’s about to ask for a favour.

Her giggles come uncontrollably now. She flips through the pages quickly, eager to see what else you’ve written. But then—

The shift happens. The notes stop being ridiculous. They start being… something else.

When she’s nervous, she fidgets with her necklace. Let her hold onto my sleeve instead.

Her fingers touch her necklace instinctively. "Huh…you do wear long sleeves every time we meet…"

Liz acts tough, but she cries at sad movies. Keep tissues ready.

Her laughter softens. "No I don't…mostly…"

She overworks herself even when she’s exhausted. Sometimes she just needs someone to tell her to rest.

Her heart clenches.

And then, the last note. It might have been scribbled out but…She stares at it. She couldn't unsee it after once.

If she ever gets too tired, remind her she doesn’t have to do everything alone. Remind her that I’m here….

Her grip tightens on the notebook.

She rereads the words, once, twice—three times.

She always knew you cared. In your own way—grumbling, teasing, acting like she was the most annoying person in the world. But this? You had written this down. As if it was important. As if you wanted to remember, just in case.

As if she mattered.

Her chest feels warm.

The door creaks open.

“Alright, I got the—”

Your words cut off when you see her holding the notebook.

You freeze mid-step.

Liz is holding the notebook. Jiwon is reading the notebook.

Your stomach drops.

She looks up at you, notebook still clutched in her hands, her expression unreadable.

You stand there, the file folder limp in your grip.

Then, slowly, a mischievous glint appears in her eyes.

“You mother f—”

Before you can even lunge for it, Liz hugs the notebook to her chest, scrambling to her feet. Her breath comes out in an excited rush.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, eyes sparkling. “You do care about me!”

You feel actual panic set in. “PUT THAT DOWN. KIM JIWON.”

She takes a step back, holding it tighter. “No way! This is adorable! You—You actually wrote down how to take care of me?!”

You can feel your dignity slipping away.

“I— It’s not what it looks like—”

“Ohhh, let’s see what else—” She flips back to the earlier pages, reading aloud dramatically. “‘If she’s nervous, let her hold onto my sleeve instead.’”

Your ears burn as your hand subconsciously rolled up your sleeves in embarrassment.

"Oooohh, you're wearing long sleeve today as well, huh?!" Liz gasps, looking up at you with exaggerated shock. “You let me do that? Willingly?!”

You grit your teeth. “GIVE. IT. BACK.”

She twirls away, flipping through more pages. “Wait, wait—‘If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.’” She gasps in fake offense. “So that’s why you glare at me whenever I take a sip.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Jiwon—”

She keeps going, eyes darting across the pages. But then—

She reaches the last note again.

Her laughter fades.

Silence stretches between you.

She rereads the words, her fingers brushing lightly over the ink. Then, slowly, she lifts her head.

The teasing glint in her eyes is gone. Instead, there’s something softer. Something more sincere.

“…You really meant this?” she asks, voice quieter.

You shift uncomfortably. “U-um…I—”

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment. Then, before you can react, she lunges at you again, but this time, she hugs you.

You stiffen immediately.

“…Ya.”

She squeezes you tighter.

“Shhh,” she mumbles into your shoulder. “Just let me hug you, you tsundere.”

You stand there, unmoving, ears burning. Your hands hover awkwardly before—finally—you sigh and pat her back.

“…You’re so annoying.”

She giggles against your shoulder. “I know.”

After a moment, she pulls back, grinning. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

You roll your eyes, snatching the notebook from her hands before she can react. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to serialise this and give it to your members.”

She beams. “That sounds fun actually.”

[lilolebambi]

CHRIS SENDS YOU A... SPECIAL VIDEO.

It's not unusual for Chris to send you videos.

Hell, you're concerned when an hours past and he hasn't sent you one. Even though you complain all the time that you'd prefer if he just texted you—He just says he wants you to see him, that it's easier for you to get what he means when you watch them.

So you're not surprised when he sends you one after you received one 30 mins after he said he was getting on the game.

You raise your eyebrow when you see just how lengthy it is, but you still click on it.

It starts with him just propping his phone up, you seeing the light of his computer illumate his face. But then he scoots back in his chair, hands immediately going to his headphones, "Miss y'so much it's crazy."

"I know, I know we saw each other yesterday—But I want my girl." You're giggling, smiling to yourself until suddenly, his sweatpants are down and you seeing the raging boner he has.

"Was thinking of you while playing.... look what you did."

Fuck.

His hands trail down to his boxers, cupping himself. "Not fair." He whimpers, "Saw the marks you left and just couldn't help myself."

Your thighs press together... and if your hand slipped into your sleep shorts it's no one business.

"K-know you're touching yourself too, mama— imagine its my hand, okay?" He lets out a shaky breath as he pulls down his boxers and finally frees his weeping cock.

"I need you— need y'so bad ma'—" He gasps, hand wrapping around his eager cock. "I— I kept imagining you bouncing on me— please—" Chris lets out a loud, whiny whimper that goes straight to your throbbing cilt.

"C—cant— can't even be loud cus Matt n' Nick are home-! Need y'to shut me up with your fingers—" He babbles, eagerly stroking his cock. "Teasing m-my tip just like how you do—"

"So fuckin' sensitive— I- mnf—" He whines, cock leaking like a faucet. "Needyoumama— needyouneedyouneedyou—" He repeats like a prayer, "I— please m' gonna cum— c-can I? Can I cum—?" He asks like you're there. God, you wish were there. Watching him make a mess of himself.

"Cum— cum with me— please mommy— c-cum—" He growls, head falling back in his chair. You're cooked. Fingers helplessly rubbing at your clit as you hips rut up to help you.

"Cum— m' cumming mama!" He practically screams, hand stroking himself at a rapid pace. Your hips lift off the bed before your eyes roll into the back of your head as your orgasm crashes over you.

A raspy giggle falls from Chris's lips as he finally comes down from his high. "Miss you...text me when you're done cleaning up, okay?

And then the video ends.

You're quick to follow his directions.

you're terrible.

tell me about

just got yelled at by matt and nick :p

whatever

you gonna do something abt it tho?

a/n: chris.... i mean who said that!

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @domizmez @drewswife @strnilolover @t0riiiis @courta13 @badgallrora @mattslilies @sturns-mermaid @bluetalia @pair-of-pantaloons @y2kstarr @cherryswifeyy @sweeethrt @moond0llie @ambi-squirrelly @wastelandzella @applecidersturniolo @riasturns @iloveduckssm @oopsiedaisydeer

[cosmiclily]

teehee hii again - i noticed that u had a caitlyn request and omg do i have requests 🤭

im thinking ofc x fem reader, could u do like university or college?? some sorta sport element amddd here's the best bit. caitlyn after training every morning and ungodly hours goes to this coffee house and every morning, there's this cute girl barista who takes her order and it gets to the point that she has her order ready for her already. and Caitlyn is smooth and flirty and barista is like flirty but more shy. ok one more thing - they would exchange socials and like and comment on stories and posts. THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH your fics acct make my day i love youuu

💐 - some flowers

morning shift (derogatory)

✰ caitlyn x f!reader

wc: 4.8k

notes: i’ve been trying to post this for AGES, the app kept crashing and my computer wasn’t turning on 😭😭😭 how have you guys been?

Getting the morning shift and having to wake up at five in the morning was far from ideal. In fact, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do. Dragging yourself out of bed, forcing yourself into the shower, and getting dressed while barely conscious was pure torture. You didn’t just feel like a zombie—you looked like one too.

But all of that became worth it the moment she walked into the coffee shop.

A goddess in tiny training shorts, a jacket so tight it perfectly accentuated her waist, and legs that seemed to go on forever. Every morning, like clockwork, she’d rush in, order her stupid green juice and iced americano, and somehow make suffering through the early shift feel like a blessing.

You would take this shift for the rest of your life if it meant getting to see her.

And today, just like every other morning, Caitlyn Kiramman strolled in, hair slightly messy from her run, cheeks flushed from the cold. But what really sent a jolt through your sleep-deprived body was the way her lips curled into a teasing smile as she approached the counter.

“Good morning,” she said, leaning against the counter ever so slightly. “The usual, please. And maybe… a smile from my favorite barista?”

You nearly choked on your own breath.

A smile? From her favorite barista?

You scrambled to plaster the biggest, most natural-looking smile on your face (which, given the ungodly hour, wasn't easy). “Of course,” you said smoothly, ignoring how your heart was now hammering in your chest. “That’ll cost you extra, though.”

Caitlyn chuckled, handing over her money, her fingers brushing against yours for a second too long to be an accident. “Worth it.”

She took a seat at her usual table, and as she walked away, you shamelessly let your eyes trail after her, taking in the way those tiny shorts hugged her ass perfectly.

“You should just give her your number, you know?” your coworker commented, picking up a cup beside you. “She comes in every day, flirts with you, and you just stand there grinning like an idiot. Write your number on her cup. Do something.It’s getting a little pathetic.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you started preparing her drink. “Caitlyn Kiramman is way out of my league. I’m nothing but a mere mortal in her goddess realm.”

Your coworker snorted. “Okay, poet, but have you considered that maybe—just maybe—she likes her coffee a little more than usual because of the person making it?”

That made you pause for a split second before you shook it off. No way. There was no chance in hell that Caitlyn Kiramman—beautiful, confident, rich Caitlyn Kiramman—would ever look twice at you.

So, as always, you just wrote one of your cheesy pickup lines on her cup, adding a little smiley face next to it, and went on with your day like it didn’t mean anything.

You went to class, dozed off between lectures, ate lunch half-aware of your surroundings, and then finally made your way home, exhausted. But even as you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop yourself from replaying your morning interaction with Caitlyn. The way her fingers had brushed against yours, the way she smiled when she read your note—was it just your sleep-deprived brain making things up, or was there something there?

The next morning, there you were again. Five a.m., standing under the shower, letting the warm water run over you as you took the slowest shower of your life. Your mind was occupied with one thing and one thing only—what line you were going to scribble on Caitlyn’s cup today. And, if you were being completely honest, a tiny part of you was also daydreaming about what outfit she’d be wearing.

Would it be the black shorts today? Or maybe the navy blue ones that hugged her just right? Would she zip up her jacket, or would you get a glimpse of the tight sports bra underneath?

You shook your head, forcing yourself back to reality and going to work. You need help.

For some unknown reason, you felt extra antsy today. Your stomach was fluttering in a way that had nothing to do with hunger, and the anticipation was getting to you. So when the clock hit 6:45, you automatically started making Caitlyn’s drinks, your hands moving on autopilot. You blended her green juice, strained it, and set up the coffee to brew, wondering if today she would actually stick to her usual order or throw you off by asking for something different.

“What are you doing?” your coworker asked, staring at you like you had lost your mind. The coffee shop was empty, the lights still dim, and not a single customer had walked in yet.

“Making Caitlyn’s drinks” you replied simply.

They frowned. “Uh… there’s no one in line.”

“She comes in at seven sharp every morning,” you explained casually, still focused on your task. “It takes me 10 minutes to blend and strain her juice and for the coffee to finish brewing. That leaves me with five minutes to think of something to write and cup her drinks so they’re still fresh.”

You said it like it was nothing. Like it was a perfectly logical, totally normal thing to be this dedicated to one customer’s order.

Your coworker just stared at you for a long moment before sighing, shaking their head. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”

You shrugged, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a cup. “If this is crazy, I don’t want to be sane.”

They snorted, rolling their eyes. “Alright, Romeo, at this point, you might as well just ask her out.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

But then, at exactly 7 a.m., there she was.

Earbuds in, navy blue jacket, black shorts, high ponytail—looking like she had just stepped out of a magazine. She had that effortless kind of beauty, the kind that made the world slow down for a second, the kind that made you forget how exhausted you were.

You barely had time to compose yourself before she was standing in front of the register, and you forced your brain to function.

“Good morning, the usual?” you asked, maybe a little too eagerly, but could anyone blame you?

Caitlyn pulled out her earbuds, flashing you that smile that had you questioning every life decision you had ever made. “Certainly a good morning now that I saw you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

Did she—did she just say—?

“And yes, please, the usual,” she added casually, as if she hadn’t just dropped that line like it was nothing.

You scrambled to punch in her order, hoping she didn’t notice the heat creeping up your neck. “Right—yeah, coming right up.”

As you handed her the cups, her fingers brushed against yours again, and this time, you swore she did it on purpose. She glanced at the side of the cup, reading the little note you had scribbled there:

Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.

A soft chuckle left her lips, and she shook her head, amused. “This one was bad.”

You grinned. “But did it work?”

She looked up at you, something playful in her gaze. “Maybe.”

And with that, she took her drinks and walked to her usual table, leaving you standing there, gripping the register like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Your coworker, who had been watching the entire interaction with barely concealed amusement, leaned in. “So, uh… still think she’s out of your league?”

You swallowed hard, eyes still on Caitlyn as she sipped her coffee, her lips curled into a smirk.

Yeah. You were so screwed.

──────────────────────

On a random Thursday night, just as you were winding down and nearly ready for bed, your phone pinged with a notification.

@CKiramman followed you.

You stared at your screen like it had just grown a second head.

For a moment, you thought you were seeing things. Maybe your sleep-deprived brain was playing tricks on you. But no—the notification was real. You picked up your phone, unlocked it, and there it was. Caitlyn Kiramman had actually followed you on Instagram.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you clicked on her profile. Her account wasn’t private, which meant you could see everything—pictures from her morning runs, candid shots of her with friends, a few elegant photos from what looked like fancy Galas (because, of course, she was that kind of rich), and even a couple of casual selfies. You scrolled down absently, then snapped yourself out of it.

Focus.

Had she searched for you? Did she somehow already know your name? Or—your stomach flipped—had she actually been interested enough to ask someone?

Before you could spiral too much, another notification popped up.

@CKiramman liked your photo.

And not just any photo.

One from three months ago.

Your eyes widened. Oh, she scrolled.

Your mind raced. Should you message her? Follow her back? Ignore it and pretend you weren’t currently gripping your phone like your life depended on it?

Before you could decide, another message appeared.

Caitlyn Kiramman: So, are you ever going to give me your number, or do I have to keep deciphering bad pickup lines on my coffee cups?

Your mouth fell open.

Holy. Shit.

You stared at the message, your brain short-circuiting.

Caitlyn Kiramman had followed you, stalked your profile, liked an old photo, and now she was flirting with you in your messages.

What alternate universe had you fallen into?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, but every possible response sounded either too eager or too indifferent. You needed something cool, something casual—something that didn’t scream I’ve been lowkey in love with you since the first time you walked into my coffee shop in tiny shorts.

After what felt like an eternity (but was actually 37 seconds, not that you were counting), you finally typed back:

You: You decipher them? I thought you just rolled your eyes and ignored my genius.

The little “typing” bubble appeared almost instantly.

Caitlyn Kiramman: Oh, don’t get me wrong. Some of them are truly awful. But they’re entertaining.

You grinned.

You: That bad, huh? Should I start charging extra for the comedy?

Caitlyn Kiramman: I think you’ve already overcharged me. Every morning I walk in expecting just coffee, and instead, I leave with a new terrible joke and a distraction for the rest of the day.

Your heart did an actual flip.

You stared at her message, rereading it at least five times before you processed what she was saying. A distraction for the rest of the day? Was she serious? Was she just teasing? Was Caitlyn Kiramman really implying that she thought about youafter she left?

Before you could think too hard about it, another message popped up.

Caitlyn Kiramman: So? Are you going to give me your number, or do I have to find another way to keep myself entertained?

You exhaled sharply, fingers shaking slightly as you typed back:

You: Wouldn’t want you to suffer without my daily wisdom. (xxx-xxx-xxxx) Use it wisely.

Within seconds, another notification popped up.

Unknown Number: Now I can finally place my coffee orders in advance.

Unknown Number: Also, I might use it for other things.

You swallowed hard, rereading her message.

Other things.

Yeah. You were so screwed. And maybe just a little bit in love.

──────────────────────

To say you spent the whole night texting Caitlyn would be an understatement. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from topic to topic until you realized it was waaaay past your bed time. She told you about her upcoming track competition, and somewhere in the middle of it, she casually invited you to come cheer her on. (Which, obviously, you accepted before she even finished asking.)

By the time morning rolled around, you were running on fumes—more tired than usual, but weirdly, it didn’t matter. Because today, you weren’t just going to see Caitlyn from behind the coffee counter. You were actually going to talk to her and that alone had your energy levels shooting up to a hundred.

So, naturally, you got extra ready.

You actually took your time in the mirror, making sure you looked good. Not that Caitlyn had ever seen you at your best before (you were always half-dead on your morning shifts), but today was different. Today, you wanted to impress her.

And apparently, it showed.

“Okay, where’s the event?” your coworker asked the second you clocked in, giving you a once-over. “And why do you look nice today?”

“Oh, nothing…” you said, trying to sound casual as you adjusted your apron. “Just, you know… Caitlyn Kiramman not only followed me, stalked my profile, liked a picture from three months ago, but also slid into my DMs… and I gave her my number.”

Your coworker froze.

Then, in the most dramatic way possible, they grabbed your shoulders and shook you. “WHAT?”

You laughed, swatting them away. “I’m serious.”

They gawked at you. “You mean Caitlyn Kiramman—the woman you’ve been hopelessly crushing on for months—the actual goddess who walks in here every morning—is now texting you?”

“Yep.”

“And flirting with you?”

“Seems like it.”

They stared at you for another second before groaning. “Oh my God. I take back everything I said. You’re not pathetic. You’re a legend.”

You smirked, grabbing a cup as you started prepping Caitlyn’s usual drinks. “Glad you finally see it.”

Your coworker sighed dramatically. “You better not mess this up.”

“I have no plans to, thank you very much.”

But then… 7 a.m. hit. And Caitlyn didn’t show up.

7:10. Nothing.

7:30. Still nothing.

Your excitement started to deflate just a little. You glanced at the door between customers, waiting for that familiar navy blue high ponytail to appear, but the minutes kept ticking by, and your carefully prepared drinks were sitting there untouched.

By 7:40, the juice had turned an unsettling shade of green, and the ice in the Americano had completely melted. With a sigh, you had no choice but to dump them out.

Just as you were starting to wonder if maybe last night had been some weird dream, at exactly 7:46, she rushed in.

Cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy, breathing a little heavier—Caitlyn Kiramman looked… flustered.

And God, if that wasn’t the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

The line was long—the morning rush just starting—so she had to wait her turn, and when she finally reached the front, she immediately leaned in, looking at you with something close to guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, shaking her head at herself. “I overslept for the first time in my life. Which, by the way, is very unusual for me.”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. “You? Oversleeping? That is unusual.”

She groaned, covering her face for a second before peeking at you through her fingers. “I know. And I feel terrible. 7 a.m. is our unofficial meeting time, and I—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing what she just said. Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her lip.

Your smirk grew. “Oh? Our unofficial meeting time?”

Caitlyn blinked. Then, instead of backtracking, she straightened her posture, tilting her head slightly. “Yes,” she said, completely serious. “Our meeting time. And I broke it. Which means I need to make it up to you somehow.”

You leaned on the counter, amused. “Oh yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?”

She hummed, pretending to think about it before giving you a small smirk. “Well, for starters… I’ll let you pick my drink today.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t think I want the usual,” she said casually, resting her elbows on the counter. “What do you recommend? I want to try something new.”

You stared at her for a second. Caitlyn had been ordering the same thing every morning since the day you met her. Now she was just… trusting you to pick something for her?

“Oh wow,” you said, placing a hand on your chest mockingly. “This is a big responsibility. What if I mess it up?”

She grinned. “Then I guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

You choked on your own saliva.

Caitlyn laughed, absolutely delighted by your reaction. “Relax,” she teased, her voice dropping just a little lower. “I just meant I’d make you remake it if it’s terrible.”

You swallowed hard, regaining whatever composure you had left. “Right. Of course. That’s what you meant.”

She winked. “Obviously.”

──────────────────────

After that, your routine changed.

At exactly 7 a.m., Caitlyn would walk in, looking effortlessly gorgeous, and instead of ordering her usual, she’d lean on the counter and ask, “What’s on the menu today?”

And every morning, you’d surprise her with something new. A different coffee, a new kind of tea, a random experimental drink that sometimes turned out great and sometimes… not so much. (She still drank them, though—grinning at you over the rim of her cup like she secretly enjoyed watching you squirm.)

You spent as much time talking as the morning rush allowed, stealing moments between customers, exchanging teasing glances, and sharing stories that made the mundane mornings feel electric.

And then there were the texts.

At first, they were casual—updates on her day, comments on whatever drink you’d made for her, the occasional complaint about a professor or a late-night craving for coffee. But soon, they became… constant.

Messages during lunch. During her breaks. Late at night when you were both too stubborn to sleep.

You talked about everything.

Her childhood. Your family. Her ridiculous rich-person hobbies (which, yes, included knowing how to shoot, for some bizarre reason). The names of her childhood dogs. The fact that she still slept with a ridiculous amount of pillows.

There were no awkward pauses, no forced conversations. Just endless back-and-forth banter, teasing, and something elselingering between the words that neither of you addressed.

Until one night, when your phone buzzed with a notification:

Cait 💙: So, when are you going to ask me out on a proper date? Or do I have to do everything in this relationship?

You blinked.

Stared.

Read it again.

You: Relationship?

The little typing bubble appeared instantly.

Cait 💙: Oh, my bad. Did you think all this was just friendly customer service?

You gawked at your screen.

Was she serious? Was she just teasing? Was this a test?

You: I mean… technically, I do give excellent customer service.

Cait 💙: Uh-huh. And do you text all your customers at midnight?

You: Only the pretty ones.

You hesitated for half a second before hitting send.

And then, before you could panic about that message, she replied:

Cait 💙: So just me, then.

You: Yeah. Just you.

The typing bubble appeared again.

Then it stopped.

Then it started again.

Your heart was practically in your throat.

Cait 💙: Friday. 8 p.m. I’m picking you up. Wear something cute.

──────────────────────

You could not wait for Friday.

And, apparently, the universe had something against you, because the week felt twice as long as usual.

Every hour dragged. Every class felt like a never-ending lecture. Every shift at work felt excruciatingly slow, even with Caitlyn still dropping by at 7 a.m. sharp, flashing you that smug little smirk like she knew you were impatiently counting down the days.

By Friday afternoon, you had done everything you could possibly do to make time pass faster.

Assignments? Finished.

Room? Spotless.

Laundry? Folded.

At one point, you even considered reorganizing your entire closet just to keep yourself busy. But no matter what you did, 8 p.m. refused to get any closer.

You were convinced that if given a few more hours, you could probably find the cure for cancer before the time for your date actually arrived.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Maybe you needed to redo your hair. Or change outfits. You thought you looked good, but what if the lighting in your room had deceived you?

You rushed to the mirror, checking yourself for the tenth time. You turned to the side, then to the other, scrutinizing every detail.

Your outfit was good. Really good. You had picked something that made you feel confident, something that you knew Caitlyn would like. (Not that you had memorized her favorite colors or anything. That would be insane. Definitely not something you had done.)

Your hair? Also fine. Your face? Fine.

So why the hell did you feel like a mess?

You groaned, flopping onto your back dramatically. “I’m gonna die before 8 p.m.,” you mumbled to no one in particular.

Your phone buzzed.

You launched yourself up, grabbing it instantly.

Cait 💙: Excited?

You bit your lip, debating how to answer. Be cool. Be casual. Don’t let her know you’ve been losing your mind all day.

You: Meh. It’s just a date. Not like I’ve been counting down the minutes or anything.

Cait 💙: You’re terrible at lying.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

You: Am not.

Cait 💙: Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself.

Cait 💙: I’ll be there in 30. Be ready, sweetheart.

Suddenly, your heart was pounding.

Oh. Oh, shit.

This was real.

You were going on a date with Caitlyn tonight.

──────────────────────

Caitlyn picked you up in a sleek, undeniably fancy car. You had no idea what kind it was—cars weren’t exactly your thing—but it looked expensive and smelled like it had never known a day of spilled coffee or fast food wrappers.

But the car was the last thing on your mind.

Because Caitlyn? Caitlyn looked gorgeous.

Her usual high ponytail was gone, replaced with loose waves that framed her face perfectly. She wore a crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her forearms, paired with tailored black slacks and shiny loafers that somehow made her legs look even longer. She was all elegance and confidence—and yet, when she smiled at you, there was still that warmth, that sparkle that made your chest flutter.

“You look… wow,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, your voice almost caught in your throat.

Caitlyn glanced at you, lips tugging into a knowing smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

You laughed softly, your nerves settling a little as the car pulled smoothly out of your driveway. “Is this where you tell me we’re going somewhere casual and I’m overdressed?”

She grinned. “Nope. I figured we could both use a night out somewhere a little extra.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” you said, glancing over at her again. “You’re dangerously close to making me forget how to form coherent sentences.”

She smirked, eyes still on the road. “That’s the goal.”

You turned to the window, smiling like an idiot, cheeks burning just a little. How was this your life right now?

“How was your day?” Caitlyn asked after a moment, her voice softer now, more intimate—like the initial flirty spark had melted into something quieter and warmer.

You told her about your shift, your overly nosy coworker, and the old lady who insisted that oat milk was a government conspiracy meant to destroy traditional dairy farming. Caitlyn laughed, the sound bubbling out of her so naturally, like she was genuinely enjoying every second with you. And maybe she was.

The conversation flowed effortlessly on the drive to the restaurant—Caitlyn had finally caved and told you where you were going after a little playful prodding—and when you arrived, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

The place was fancy. Not just candlelight-and-linen-napkins fancy, but the kind of fancy where the valet wore white gloves, and the front of the menu didn’t even have prices.

You stepped out of the car slowly, glancing up at the glowing sign and the perfectly manicured entryway. Suddenly, the outfit you had spent hours choosing didn’t feel like quite enough. You smoothed your hands over your clothes and swallowed hard, a flicker of anxiety settling in your chest.

You knew Caitlyn had money. That was never a mystery—everything about her practically whispered old money and prestige. But standing outside this restaurant, with her looking like she’d walked out of a fashion editorial and you feeling like you didn’t quite belong, you couldn’t help the quiet question that crept into your mind:

What does she even see in me?

Caitlyn stepped beside you, noticing the way you hesitated. She gently touched your hand, her fingers brushing yours. “Hey,” she said, catching your eye. “You okay?”

You nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting a place like this.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I wanted to take you somewhere special. Not to impress you—just… because I think you deserve something special.”

You blinked at her, your heart doing something traitorous in your chest.

“And for the record,” she added, leaning in just slightly, like she was reading your mind, “you belong exactly here. With me.”

──────────────────────

After that first moment of insecurity, everything fell into place. It didn’t matter that you weren’t used to places like this. It didn’t matter that you felt underdressed or that you had to quietly Google a few words on the menu under the table. None of it mattered, because Caitlyn made you feel welcome—seen. Like you belonged not just at her table, but with her.

She didn’t look at you like you were out of place. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. Every smile, every glance, every gentle brush of her hand across yours grounded you. And with her, this fancy restaurant didn’t feel so intimidating anymore—it felt like a memory you’d want to replay a hundred times.

“So,” Caitlyn said, casually sipping her wine, “I have a track competition coming up—I think I told you about it?”

You nodded, already smiling. “Yeah, you mentioned it.”

“Well, I’d really like you to come,” she said, her voice a little more tentative, like the invitation mattered more than she wanted to admit.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be there,” you grinned. “Front row. With a giant glittery sign that says ‘#1 Caitlyn Fan.’ Maybe I’ll even wear a matching tracksuit.”

She laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Please do. I want pictures.”

“Careful what you wish for,” you teased. “I’m not above going full cheerleader mode.”

She raised an eyebrow, a playful spark in her eyes. “Now that’s something I need to see.”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the table and tilting your head. “Oh yeah? You fantasize about me in a crop top and pom-poms, Kiramman?”

Caitlyn didn’t miss a beat. “Only every night.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter spilling from your lips as she smirked. “You’re dangerous.”

“I’ve been told,” she replied, her voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip. “But you seem brave.”

You stared at her, all trace of joking fading for a beat. Warmth settled in your chest, creeping up your neck. She was looking at you in that way again—the kind that made everything else disappear.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you whispered before your brain could stop your mouth.

Caitlyn’s smile softened. “So are you,” she said, her voice low and honest.

The air between the two of you shifted instantly, thick with something unspoken. Your heart thudded in your chest as warmth crept up your neck, your cheeks flushed—you didn’t know if it was the wine or just the effect of being near Caitlyn.

Then you felt it—her foot slowly sliding up your leg under the table, smooth and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat. You practically melted in your seat, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table for composure.

Caitlyn was still watching you, eyes darker now, pupils slightly dilated. There was something unreadable in her gaze, something electric.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, her voice no louder than a whisper, but heavy with suggestion.

You swallowed hard, pulse pounding, every nerve ending alive. “Yes,” you breathed. “God, yes.”

She didn’t smile this time—not in the usual teasing way—but there was a curve to her lips that told you she’d been waiting for that answer.

The ride back to her place was quiet but charged, your fingers brushing on the gearshift, the tension between you stretching tighter with every passing second. The moment her door closed behind the two of you, it snapped.

She stepped forward, cupped your face with both hands, and kissed you like she’d been holding back all night. There was nothing hesitant now—just heat and hands and the thrum of something real blooming between you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, her forehead rested against yours again.

“Still think you don’t belong in my world?” she whispered, her thumb brushing across your lips.

You shook your head, smiling against her touch. “I think I might be exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

──────────────────────

masterlist

[sylusrot]

LADs Men Comforting you

A/N: Just a little idea I thought of because I, too, need to be comforted right now.

Tags: Sylus X fem!Reader, Zayne X fem!Reader, Xavier X fem!Reader, Rafayel X fem!Reader, Caleb X fem!Reader, Fluff

Warnings: Descriptions of an anxiety attack, Angst (but quickly resolved)

As always, please enjoy and send ideas to my inbox. ^^

~

Sylus:

You had gone on an extremely dangerous mission with Sylus. You're a very strong person, both physically and mentally, but every strong person has their breaking point.

Yesterday, you had witnessed a massive explosion from the passenger seat of Sylus' car. That explosion happened to be the same one Sylus was in.

You start to get out of the car, to rush in there, to make Sylus was okay, but you couldn't. An unbelievable amount of people start surrounding the now fiery building. People you can recognize as the people that want you dead, that want Sylus dead.

Tears start building up behind your eyes as you hurriedly get into the driver seat. You know he wouldn't want you to run into that, not to chase him into danger. So you drive. You drive and drive. You shouldn't be because you can barely see through the tears, eventually you pull over when you know you're far enough.

That's when you let it out. Sobs rattle your body as your fists beat against the steering wheel.

"Please don't treat my baby like that, sweetie." A husky voice says outside your window, one that Sylus had left open. You quickly look and there he is. Almost unscathed. Some ash sits on his cheek while a small gash bleeds from his brow.

"Sylus.." You say breathlessly. Nearly falling trying to get out of the car to get to him, he catches you in his arms and pulls you close. Closer than he ever has it feels like.

"You should know I would never leave you." He says into your ear, barely above a whisper. His hands rub up and down your back. All you can do is hold him tighter.

"I will always come back to you, sweetie."

Safe to say, Sylus treated you like a princess for the next month, and you never left his side.

~

Zayne:

Something felt off. You had just gotten back home after a mission and you couldn't breathe. You had seen so many things today that you're not sure you'll ever forget it.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you collapsed to the floor. Your vision is blurry, unsure whether it's from the income anxiety attack or the tears threatening to spill. Your head feels heavy, like you could pass out in any moment. Your throat feels tight, like it's closed completely.

Eventually, a sob leaves your lips. It reaches Zayne's ears all the way in your shared office. His head snaps from the computer screen and he jumps from his chair, making it crash into the wall behind him.

"Darling?!" his voice seemed calm, but there was an undercurrent of panic. Zayne felt his heart clench at the sight of you. Your breaths were heavy, quick, as if you couldn't get oxygen past your throat and into your lungs.

"Hey..." he quickly gets down onto the floor with you. Strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly, giving you the pressure you so badly needed. Zayne rocks you back and forth as you cry, just letting you get it all out. The only words he says is to remind you to slow your breathing.

Once your breathing slows, you hesitantly look up at him.

"I have you. You don't need to tell me what happened, but I'll be right here to pick up the aftermath."

~

Xavier:

The two of you were in battle. More and more wanderers kept striking you both. It felt never ending. It was getting hard for you to keep up. The next thing you know, a searing white pain flashing in your eyes. Your guns clank to the ground in front of you. Opening your eyes, you see a giant gash in your arm. The sight of it make your head feel queasy.

Xavier is at your side in an instant. He holds onto you firmly, while being careful not to aggravate your injury any further. Another white light blinds you, but this time not from pain, from Xavier. The wanderers fall to the ground and fade away.

Watching as all the threats disappear, the adrenaline starts to slow. Your knees buckle and you start to fall but Xavier is there to catch you, slowly setting you onto the ground.

"You're okay." his voice is soft, reassuring. "Just focus on my face." You stare into his eyes as he rips part of his uniform. When he lifts your arm, you hiss in pain.

"I know, baby, I know." Xavier ties the cloth around your arm over the cut to slow the bleeding. "It's going to be okay, you're okay." Tears start to prickle the edges of your eyes. When he looks back up at you, he quickly notices. Leaning in, he first kisses your forehead, and then the tears that managed to slip out.

"Lets go get you fixed up." He picks you up with ease, one of his thumbs rubbing circles into your hip as you press your face into his chest, smelling his cologne.

~

Rafayel:

At first, you were silent, hands cupping your mouth. Tears slowly start to pool in your eyes. In front of you stood a canvas that Rafayel had been working on. A canvas that now had splatters of paint from you accidentally knocking over the table holding his paints.

You back up a bit. What were you going to do? You ruined it. In that exact moment, Rafayel walks in. As soon as he meets your eyes, the tears spill.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." The words tumble from your lips. You keep backing up, feeling the need to get away. Rafayel's eyes fill with worry. He sets down the paints he had left to get and rushes to you. You didn't want him to touch you. You knew he'd surely be mad.

Eventually, he grabs your hands, pulling them to his chest. His eyes look deeply into yours.

"Shhh... Cutie, it's okay. What's wrong?" His voice is quiet and sweet. Your initial panic subsides a bit, Rafayel's always soothing. Without saying a word, you point to his canvas and try shrinking away. He turns around and sees the mess.

A chuckle escapes his lips. He walks up to it with a small smile. After awhile, he turns back to you.

"It's perfect." A confused look washes over your face. "The colors, the way the paint flows. This is going in the next showcase."

"Nonono." You rush in front of him. "I ruined it." Rafayel chuckles again.

"In my eyes, all your flaws are a work of art, and this mistake is the same. It's perfect. I love it, just as I love each and every of your flaws."

~

Caleb:

The first day was always the worst. The nausea, the migraine, the cramps. Today was particularly bad, worse than usual. On top of all the period pains, you were just sad. No rhyme or reason to it, just sad.

Caleb had decided to stay home. He knew before you could even say anything that today wasn't going to be good.

"Stay in bed, princess. I'll make you your favorite breakfast." All you could do was nod in response, not feeling up to speaking. As he leaves, you roll onto his side of the bed, curling into his pillow and inhaling his scent.

The next time you open your eyes, the nightstand beside you had a plate filled with fluffy waffles with chocolate chips in them. A chocolate milk was also sat out. Caleb was crouched in front of you rubbing your cheek.

"Morning, pips. Breakfast is ready." He gives you a soft smile, one that you return back to him. As you sit up, a sharp cramp surges through you. You try to play it off but Caleb never misses anything when it comes to you. He hands you the plate and he goes over to one of the drawers to get your heating pad out.

How did I get this lucky? You look from him preparing the heating pad down to your food. Warmth spreads through you as you're filled with love. Tears start to slip down your cheek.

"Pips? What's wrong?" Caleb sits down beside you on the bed, reaching an arm around your waist while his other hand wipes the tears away.

"I just love you so much." is all you can say as you lay your head against his chest.

"I love you, too. I'll spend my whole life, and even after, showing you how much I love you.

[duskbornraven]

Midnight Oil

When I die send me to The Pitt, but only on night shift. Wrapping up some wips I've been sitting on for way too long.

Paring: John Shen x f!Reader

Warnings: mostly fluff, minor injury to reader, general work crush embarrassment, no use of y/n, female reader, not beta read

Summary: You get hurt trying to check out the local hot doctor who visits your coffee shop. He winds up checking you out as well.

Word Count: 3k

You never minded working Thursdays at the coffee shop, especially on nice summer nights like tonight was shaping up to be. You could manage to actually work the floor most of the night compared to the weekends, which is why you had even agreed to come on as shift manager. And for a manager role there  wasn’t really much to it outside of helping with schedules and being the authority figure. 

At least on the night shifts, you had heard some crazy stories from the opening shift. Granted open was at noon and compared to the hundreds of other shops in the city it was a very late start to the day. Though that was the entire point, the shop was open from noon to seven in the morning. It was meant to be specifically for the night shift. Those who found comfort in the way the city moved in the shadows. Or the more common occurrence of the overtaxed college students and unfortunates who got saddled with the night shift until something opened on days.  

You honestly would have probably burnt out at any other customer service job. This place had its perks. Being able to leave the door open to bring in the warm breeze was certainly one of them. The gentle rumble of traffic and the occasional shout echoing down the road was excellent background noise when the place was empty. 

One of the nicer perks was the owner tending to hang around for the first few hours of your shift, meaning you could get most of the way caught up in the office. Angel generally would linger in the doorway to the office while you got yourself set up at the computer, telling you about first shift drama or what was new with her and the family. 

It very much helped that your boss was phenomenal at making coffee and would always have something new for the shifts to try throughout the week. And the free coffee, good or not, was really one of the main reasons you kept coming back. 

“And I am sick of him calling in at the last minute, I think we need a new day shift lead.” Angel was explaining while you updated availability for one of the new hires starting next week. 

“You’ve been saying that since before I started. He’s your brother, fire him if you want.” You didn’t look up from the computer, focused on not getting the rows mixed up while comparing the paper form in front of you. 

“Yeah but you know-” She trailed off and started out of the office “Hey John, you’re almost never on Thursdays.” She had turned her attention to whatever regular had walked through the open doors. 

“Normally, but I swapped shifts so he can have my day off next weekend.” You froze the second he started talking. You would be mortified if anyone called you on it, but recently the biggest perk was getting to see this specific regular. Doctor John Shen. The man was the ideal customer, always knew what he wanted, never complained about the lines. He was all some of the girls on the night shift would talk about initially.  

You hadn’t thought anything of him at first admittedly, he was handsome and left a decent tip most of the time. But the more he came in the more you caught yourself noticing him, how he carried himself, memorizing his drink order and schedule without really meaning to. He was laid back, to put it mildly but not in the overly confident sense. It was like the man was just good at carrying weight on his shoulders and not letting it drag him down. 

You pushed the rolling chair back to better look at him through the door. Which, to your absolute mortification, managed to crash backwards into the hard wood of the back office floor head first. Instantly a sharp throbbing pain shot through the back of your head, the sharp stab of heat that usually accompanied pain close behind. 

“Jesus, you alright?” The sound of fast approaching footsteps broke past the ringing in your ears. 

You managed a groan and tried to force yourself upright, blinking tears out of your eyes. Only to have a pair of hands stop you. “Woah,stay still for a second alright?” 

Your vision clearing slightly your eyes focused on your boss kneeling beside you and keeping you still beneath him was John. His eyes flicked between each of your pupils. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay” The back of your head was throbbing still, the occasional sharp sting adding to the aching pain. You went to sit up again and once again were held back by a firm hand on your shoulder. “I’m fine, really.” 

When he didn’t let go right away you pushed his hand from your shoulder. “It’s Thursday night, I’m at work, I just fell out of the chair.” Sitting up did very little to ease the pain at the base of your skull, a now persistent sting accompanying the warmth. 

“No nausea?” John adjusted to sit back in front of you on the floor,his eyes still searching yours carefully.  

“Not as far as I can tell.” You were also mentally checking off what little you knew about head injuries. Which admittedly wasn't much more than had already been checked off the list. “I’ll ice it and keep an eye on it to make sure. 

“Let me at least check you out in better lighting.” He held out a hand to help you to your feet. “Make sure you’re okay before I get into work.” 

You let him pull you off the floor, a little too aware that despite the injury this was the closest you had ever been to him. Usually there was at least a foot of counter between the pair of you. But now following him out to the floor you felt more aware. There were no machines for you to hide behind out here. Luckily for you the odds of making more of an idiot out of yourself were almost impossible. 

The shop was, thankfully still empty, or you would have insisted that you went back into the closer, darker space of the office. Out here it felt less like some secret thing. You sat yourself at a table, the ach in your head already slowly subsiding. 

“Yell at me if this hurts too much.” A familiar voice from behind you, the sound of latex stretching followed. 

“Good thing you came prepared.” You hissed lightly as his hand brushed over where you must have landed. 

“I honestly don’t know how many gloves I’ve taken home. Mostly by accident.” His touch was light as it brushed hair out of the way to get a better look. “But I don’t think I needed this one, you’re not bleeding at least.” 

He dropped heavily into the chair across from you, as casual as always. “You’re lucky. Could have been a lot worse and I would have made you come visit me to work.” You couldn’t pretend your cheeks didn’t burn a little at that. “You should be good, get some ice on it, take it easy and if you feel worse go get checked out.” 

Angel joined you at the table, sliding a coffee over to him. “For the help” She offered  with a smile. 

“Well how can I turn that down.” John accepted the drink, taking a slow sip from the mouth of the cup and checking the display on his watch. “I do have to run actually. I’ll never hear the end of it if I’m late to cover.” 

He was halfway out the door when he turned back to look you in the eye once more. “I mean it about seeing a doctor if that gets worse. I don't want to come back to find out that something happened to you.” With that he was out the door and down the street. 

You watched him go, the usual excitement that followed his visits was there as alway, but something more also bubbled under the surface. Last week you had hardly said a word to him when he came through for his usual. And today he had taken care of you, gone out of his way to double check. You knew there was some level of responsibility for helping even off the clock. It was still nice to know that he cared enough to take care of you, and didn’t give you a hard time for it. 

It was hard to deny that seeing the doctor in him come out, the softer demeanor, the sole focus on you. It was sweet, and incredibly attractive. You hadn’t realized that you had been lost in thought until a voice behind you snapped out of it. 

“Are you okay? I can hang around for a little longer.” You winced away as something cool was pressed to the back of your head.

“I’ll be okay once some back up shows, you don’t have to stay late for me.” You took the makeshift ice pack and held it to the back of your head. She was still watching you like you might break on her. “I swear I will call you if I need to leave early. And besides I already saw a doctor technically. I’m as close to medically cleared as I’m going to get tonight.” 

That got the world weary sigh from her that you had come to expect. Along with the familiar smile. “Just try not to let the shift get any worse, I don’t know if I can handle any more stress in one day.” 

You spent the rest of the hour finishing your paperwork in the office. Occasionally venturing out to get a drink or refresh your ice. Often shooing your worried friend away to actually work when there were customers in the shop. 

Once the rest of the night shift began to filter in you transitioned to working the floor. The pain was mostly gone by now only the dull ache and the shame lingered. You had fallen on your ass and made someone else late to work, probably. All because you wanted to look a little cooler when you were checking him out for once. 

Not to mention that now your co-workers were stuck doing most if not all of the heavy lifting the rest of the shift since they instituted that you took it easy. You had hit your head, it wasn’t like they found you lying unconscious in the walk-in but they had been bullied into making you take it easy. It was hard to refuse Angel even if you ignored that fact that she owned the place. 

Your night was turning into a painful, embarrassing slog as you had to explain over and over to the overnight team as they trickled in that you had fallen on your ass. That you would be fine because with your stupid luck a doctor had happened to be on standby. 

Unfortunately, most of your team knew you well enough to start putting the pieces together of what that meant. Which made for far too many jokes about you getting hurt just to get the doctor to check you out for a change. By the time you were finally making your final rounds it felt like you had been there for an eternity, a special shift from the depths of embarrassment hell. 

John however had spent the first hour so half expecting you to come wandering into the ER. And yes, that may be the doctor brain rushing to the worst case scenario. But it also wasn’t impossible. When you didn’t show up though it was easier to let himself slip into the flow of work, focusing on actual patients. 

It wasn’t until after his first full rotation of the unit he was actually able to stop and clock that hours had passed and the pretty barista hadn't come through the doors. He took the minute he had to catch up on his charting, before the next crisis knocked him off his feet anyways. 

“You better be careful coming in the next few weeks.” He slid up to Ellis at the computer, catching her eye over the monitor. 

“Why would you say that?” She sighed, head falling back in exasperation. “Are you trying to spread your weird back luck curse to me?” 

“I’m just saying, I had that barista take a fall at my coffee place and Abbot’s whole car accident thing a while ago. You better be careful.” He shrugged. “Night shift has some weird luck going around.” 

“And now you’ve said it to me so for sure something’s going to happen.” She sighed, pushing away from the computer. “Do yourself a favor and quit talking about it before you put the poor girl in the ER tonight.” 

To his credit, he kept his mouth shut about it. It did help that it was a nightmarish night all around. He didn’t even really have the time to think about you let alone bring up his pre-shift heroics again. 

But as the day shift trickled in you crept back into his head. It wasn’t lost on him that you could have gone anywhere else in the city to get checkout if you had gotten worse. Something that didn’t sit right with him at all. 

Over the next few days he swung by the shop, even if he was technically off. If you were in he could at least follow up and make sure that you were okay. And if you weren’t? He would at least get the coffee and he could come back the next night. 

He probably could have called ahead and asked, he was well aware he was enough of a regular that the owner knew his drink order. But that was hardly on him, the shop was on the way to work and made some of the best coffee he had been able to get his hands on. 

So here he was making his regular coffee runs, just a little more frequently. And for his peace of mind it was worth it. Besides, whether he was willing to admit it to himself or not, the coffee wasn’t really the only reason he liked visiting the shop. Maybe he had been swinging by specifically on nights you usually worked for a while. 

Maybe he had just so happened to notice that you always made sure to make his order for him. He had been hoping for a better excuse to actually have a conversation with you. Offer to hang out when both of you could get off, which shouldn’t be difficult to plan considering your shifts usually lined up. 

It was a few nights after your encounter and the front door opened letting the scent of fresh summer rain in with it. Along with a very rain soaked John. Still as relaxed as ever, seemingly unbothered by the sudden chill of the air conditioning. 

He wasn’t dressed for a shift this time around, which wasn’t totally out of the usual. It wasn’t like your shop was in an inconvenient location. But the way the rest of the shift vanished on you was in fact out of the usual. Leaving you alone on the floor to take his order. Which was something you were sure you could recite in your sleep by now. 

“Yo, there’s my favorite barista. Glad you didn’t wind up coming to visit me at work.” He leaned in, arms folded on the counter. “Though I am apparently cursed so I didn’t put that out there.” He shot you a knowing smile, like you were already in on the joke. 

“Cursed?” You stepped closer to the machines to get his drink at least started. Ignoring the rush that came with being his favorite. Not that it really meant anything, he just happened to see you more than the others. One of those perks that came with management. 

“So I’m told, if you believe in that superstitious shit.” He followed you around to the machine as he spoke, warm eyes catching yours whenever possible as you worked. “Though I don’t know if I’ve actually seen proof of it yet.” 

“Well thank you for not spreading that to me I guess.” You laughed, steam blocking your vision for a moment. “That’s another thing I owe you for.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head slightly. “Literally just my job, doesn’t hurt to help.”His hands were in his pockets while he watched you work. “Though I have been known to work for coffee, every once in a while” His head tilted as he spoke, that smile widening. 

“Well luckily for you, I am something of an expert when it comes to coffee.” You offered him the cup, as usual relishing the tiny moment of contact when your fingers brushed over each other. He is free and sliding a torn and folded piece of paper across the counter to you. 

“I’m not doubting that.” His tone didn’t change but you felt the way his gaze shifted, refocusing on the paper between you. Once the paper slipped into your hand he added, “A little old school I know. I figured we could broaden your horizons a bit. Maybe get you some expertise in some of these local restaurants? We could go and grab dinner one of these nights.” 

The scrap of paper in your hand suddenly felt a little heavier, a little more alive in your hands. Unfolding it revealed John printed in classic, half legible doctor handwriting. Below that his phone number, perfectly legible. “I think it would be good to explore.” 

He would have had to be blind to miss the way you hardly fought back your smile, the way your hands shook just a little. From nerves or excitement it was hard to say, maybe a little of both. It almost didn’t feel real. Like it was all some fever dream and you really had hit your head much harder than you thought. You would wake up any second on the office floor, back at square one. 

Instead you watched the smallest hint of tension drain from his shoulders. “Good, I might already have a place or two lined up. Just in case.” Another easy shrug, his hand returned to his pocket. “Just text me when you have some time off. We’ll make it work.” 

“I’ll get back to you before the shift is over.” Happy with your answer he backed away from the counter, drink in hand and headed for the door. He had turned around and went to push out the door before he glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh and be careful the rest of the night, would hate to have to have you show up at work before I see you again.” With that slightly ominous warning he dipped back into the rain and vanished into the night. 

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello!! I literally finished Ted Lasso and am IN LOVE with Jamie Tartt (this may or may not have to do with the amount of fics I’ve read recently). Would you be up for writing a Jamie x reader where they’ve been secretly dating for a while and the team finds out, perhaps with a reader that works for AFC Richmond as like they’re photographer or something?

Omg babe I need more Jamie fics in my life. Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

cw: swearing, hickey, jamie tartt being a smug asshole

776 words

You can't stop subconsciously rubbing your neck, likely from the anxiety of wondering if your makeup is doing an adequate job covering the smattering of love-bites on your neck. When your fingers came away with a chalky coating of powder, you kept your hand frozen by your side, your free hand jotting down notes as your boss kept rambling, careful to filter the necessary information from the side tangents. 

“You get all that, babe?” Keely looked up from her computer, half apologetic. “I’m so sorry my brain has been all over the place lately.” 

“You’re okay Miss.” You looked up, eyes catching on the man winking at you from across the room. He was looking nearly sinful with a towel slung over his bulky shoulder, skin gleaming with sweat. You stiffened, handing the clipboard to your boss. “Does this all look right?” 

She mumbled as her eyes scanned the page. “Perfect! Thank you so much, Y/N. I'm serious when I say I would be a complete shitstorm without you.” She glanced at the clock. “Oh, bugger! It’s gone 1. Why don’t you take your lunch, I’ll figure the rest of this mess out.” Her perfectly manicured hand shooed you from the office. 

“Thank you Miss.” You contained your smile, glancing at Jamie. He was still looking at you, brown eyes burning into your form. You scampered off, closing the door to Keely’s office on the way out. 

The hallway was oddly barren of players and staff, excepting the boy leant casually against the doorframe of the gym bearing lazy smile on his face. You walked up to him timidly, looking around the room to make sure there were no suspicious eyes. 

“Hey cutie.” He said, running a hand through his blonde hair. Your legs felt like jelly, only made worse from the pinching heels on your feet.

“Hey Jamie. Are you okay? Why aren’t you in practice??” You looked over him for injuries, expecting to find some blooming bruise or irritated scratches. He smiled at you. You could tell he wanted to reach for you but didn’t want to risk the exposure. 

You were the main reason the relationship between you two was a secret. Jamie would shout it from the rooftop if he could, but you were still unsure. You weren’t ashamed by any means, but you couldn’t help but feel pressure. You were dating one of the most well-known Richmond players. (one who was also on a dating show made entirely up of very attractive people). Nevertheless, Jamie treated you like a rare diamond. 

“You can stop checking me out, babe. I’m alright. Coach is just havin’ us run laps. I finished first.” He was sickly sweet, if not a little boastful, looking you up and down, smirking like a cat who got the cream. “How long do you have on your break?” 

“Just under an hour.” You subconsciously glanced at a watch that wasn’t there. His grin grew as he pulled you towards the locker room. “Jamie, what if someone walks in?” Even as you protested you couldn’t help your own smile from spreading over your face. 

“Trust me, love. The lads are slackin' today. The only one who is going to finish in the next hour is Dani, and that chipper prick will stay and chat the Coaches to death.” 

You sighed, letting James tug you into his arms. He smelled like grass, rain, sweat, and himself. It was intoxicating. “I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“Missed you too, lovely girl.” He chucked, pulling you up for a kiss. No sooner did he deepen it than you heard a crash behind you. You tried to jump away from Jamie but he held onto you. You turned around to find a sheepish-looking Sam slowly backing away from the door. 

“I- I am so sorry.” Sam looked like he was trying to shrink down to bug-size. “I’ll just, I don’t want to interrupt.” 

“You’re ok-” 

“God, Sam, mind your fuckin' business.” Jamie faux-scolded. Sam slightly smiled. 

“I am.” He put his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with-” 

Right when he said that, a crowd of about ten players scrambled into the locker room, all pausing when they took in the spectacle in front of them. You could see them looking between Sam, you, and Jamie who still had his arm wrapped around your waist. The room was dead silent, until someone spoke up from the back of the group.

“Well now we know why Y/N comes to practice so much.” 

“Shut the fuck up Jan Maas!” Upwards of five people shouted.

[perfctvelvet]

please write something with madison beer for saturday sleepover!! 💕💕🦜🦜

pairing: Madison Beer/Reader

Summary: Reader crashes one of Madison's streams and Madison decides to have some fun with her.

content: 2nd POV, AU, Steamer!Madison, lots of teasing, dirty talk and light degradation, kissing, fingering.

"Aww look at her, she's blushing."

Madison had you in her lap, with her webcam right in your face. She was up late streaming when you decided to crash. You thought your presence would end the stream, knowing that there were thousands of eyes on you now, but Madison only asked you to stay.

"Isn't my girlfriend so pretty?" She asked the invisible audience

You watched the view counter going up, the game Madison had been playing was paused and she was having a conversation with her chat about *you. Your cheeks were so hot and you avoided looking at the computer screen, however Madison read the compliments aloud and it made your stomach churn. Any other time you would bat your lashes and giggle at her sweet compliments, but with so many eyes on you it was hard to swallow, especially with her hand stroking your bare thigh.

Madison knew what she was doing, and she was enjoying it. She leaned in to whisper in your ear, having a secret conversation with you while her audience watched. You couldn't respond or it would give you away. Madison you was putting you between a rock in a hard place and she was having fun with it.

"'We should kiss?'" Madison reads on of the messages in her chat. Lewd messages were nothing new to her seeing as a few are able to slip through the chat filter every once in a while, but she usually ignored them. Of course there were more dirtier ones than the one she read, but it's enough to get Lena flustered. "What do you think babe?"

You're frozen, unable to speak in fear your voice would crack. Madison's audience knew of you but rarely saw you. Just like how they couldn't see Madison's hand slipping into your panties.

"Stop being perverts," she reprimands her chat despite what she's doing to you now. "Don't want you guys making my girl uncomfortable."

Madison pressed her fingers into your clit as she spoke to her chat. You sat there in her lap, tight lipped and gripping the arm chair that was out of view. You don't know how you're going to be able to just sit here while she touches you and not even given the smallest reaction. Madison had this look on her face as if she was simply just enjoying talking to her chat with you, but she was more delighted to feel your clit pulsing against your fingers. She rubbed you in slow but steady circles until her fingers were prodding at your entrance. This was the moment you thought you were going to lose it, but you were interrupted by Madison.

"Everyone keeps saying how pretty you are, Y/n. She's so cute, isn't she you guys."

In your ear Madison tells you to look at the screen. When your eyes gloss over to the chat you see the thousands of comments flooding in that's when you feel Madison slip two fingers inside of you. Your eyes move along with the chat where everyone is agreeing with Madison. You happen to catch those same lewd comments Madison had reprimanded her chat for earlier. Madison knew she was teasing both you and her audience.

"Well, anyway..."

She begins to talk about something else while you sit there like a stone in her lap. Underneath the desk your legs were spreading for her and she began to finger you faster. The noise of your wet pussy around her fingers was getting louder and you got scared that somehow everyone would be able to hear it. You were so embarassed despite no one knowing what was going on, but that was turning you on at the same time. Madison had one hand on her cursor while the other was in your panties and no on else knew you're little secret.

Madison alternated between talking to her audience and whispering in your ear. She kept leaning in to remind you to be quiet and how you're being a good girl for. It was thrilling just as it was scary. Your pussy was clenching around her fingers as she curled them inside of you to hit your sweet spot. You could feel relief just around the corner and you worried about how you'd be able to contain yourself while everyone watched.

"What if I scoot back and let everyone see what I'm doing to you? I'd get banned, but then everyone would know how much of a slut my girlfriend is."

Madison had no clue how much you'd be turned on by getting touched in front of the camera, but then she felt your pussy squeeze her tighter and get wetter as she spoke. Her teasing always left you flustered, but you were working so hard no to react.

You swallow hard as you feel something tense up in your belly. You were going to cum any second now and the only thing you could do was press your lips together and grip the arm of her computer chair. Somehow you managed to keep quiet through your orgasm but your legs shook and your eyes glazed over. You're sure you look like a zombie on screen with that blank look on your face and nothing going on in your head. You had came so hard that it seemed impossible you were able to keep still. Madison was impressed and figured she'd give you more of a reward later.

"Well, guys, I think it's time I end the stream. I've been on here for six hours, and I think this girl is getting tired and wants me in bed," she nudges your side and you fake a smile.

The worse of it seemed to be over until Madison reached up and stuck her fingers in her mouth in front of her audience. They were wet from your juices and glistened in the light. You looked at her through the monitor with eyes wider than you thought. You were able to control yourself through it all, but right now the façade was slipping in your weakest moment.

"Sorry, got something sticky on my hands," is the last thing she says before she ends the stream.

[chilling-seavey]

I feel like TWIG needs some angst so imagine George finding out that you and your little ones got into a car accident

You are so right, anon 💕 Sorry it took me a bit to get to this one but I had to make sure I was in the writing mindset for angst!!

Warnings: Minor descriptions of car crash, injuries, and shock

It wasn’t quite the same as the real thing; stuffed in a replica of the recent Mercedes chassis facing a large arched screen displaying the virtual circuit of Baku. After almost a decade in the sport, George could have driven those streets with his eyes closed but he knew there was no place for cockiness behind the wheel. Every turn and choice must be meticulously calculated and perfected to pull every second out of the care safely. 

He was just starting another flying lap in the sim when the tone of the speaker tore him from his focus. One of the technicians spoke to him through the windowed wall of the simulator booth,  “George, your phone keeps ringing out here. It’s your wife. Why don’t you take five?”

A spark of concern flickered in his chest, wondering why you were calling multiple times when you rarely so much as messaged him when he was at the factory. He climbed out of the simulator and stepped through the door into the adjacent room that held a few long desks stocked with computers housing impressive data sets and graphs. The employees that took up the seats kept their attention on studying the results of the session while George picked up his phone from where he had left it at the table at the back. 

He noticed three missed calls from you and before he could call you back, his screen filled with your name and contact image with another incoming call. The urgency had his stomach churning and he stepped out into the hallway for a moment of privacy as he answered it.

“Hey, my love, sorry, I was in the sim.” he spoke into the phone, trying not to sound too worried, “Is everything okay?” 

“Hey, yeah, we’re okay,” you answered. 

He could hear the tension in your voice, the slight waver to your words. Somewhere in the distance, there was chatter and the muffled sound of an announcement. 

“I just…” you tried to continue but your words seemed to halt. 

George sat down in a chair in one of the small lounges in the factory, “Love, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“Sorry,” you breathed, your exhale shaky, “I’m with the kids at the hospital. We, uh…there was…fuck.”

He could tell how shaken you were by the fact you were unable to even piece sentences together but the fact he was only being given bits of the story was sending him into a spiral. With a tight breath, he pressed urgently, “Are you okay? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, we’re fine.” you assured him quickly, “Some bruises but…we’re all fine. Just…got into a little car accident. Came here to be checked out just in case.”

George was filled with equal parts relief and dread. Relief that you were all okay but dread that there had been enough of an accident to have you think about going to the hospital to get checked out. He didn’t even have to think about it before he stood up from the bench and started back down the hallway towards his private room, replying, “Okay…okay, my love, I’m on my way, alright? I have your location, I’ll head to you right now. Stay put, okay?”

“Okay,” you echoed in an exhale lined with a moment of relief, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my God, baby, do not be sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay. I just have to change and I’m coming right to you now.”

“Okay, I love you.”

The shock-stemmed flatness of your voice was chilling.

“I love you too,” George replied easily, his tone extra warm and gentle, “I’ll see you soon.”

He was sure he had never changed faster in his life, tugging off his sim-ready race suit in exchange for his street clothes before he had even alerted his team that he had to go. When he returned to the simulator room to say he was leaving and why, he didn’t even wait for a response before he was closing the door behind him and making a beeline for the stairs of the factory. 

The parking lot of the Brackley headquarters was packed but George’s reserved parking spot wasn’t too far from the front doors of the building. He checked your location on his brisk walk to his car, zooming in on the map to see what hospital you were at and, once he was sitting behind the wheel, he typed the location into the GPS in his car. 

It was ironically a sunny day in England that day, the roads dry and clear as he navigated through the countryside from Brackley to Cambridge. He silently cursed the hour-and-a-half drive as his impatience was settling on his shoulders but he didn’t let it deter him from focusing on the roads ahead. The piece of mind came with the awareness that you were okay.

Once he was parked outside the Addenbrooke Hospital on the southern point of the city of Cambridge, he was hurrying across the lot towards the entry doors, phone pressed to his ear as he called you. You directed him to where you were waiting and once he emerged through the double doors into the waiting room of the wing you were in, his heart was racing. 

You stood from your chair at the sight of him and he rushed to meet you, swallowing you up in a careful embrace. You clung onto him tightly, fingers clutching the back of his shirt and your eyes screwed shut as you buried your face in his neck. He could feel your heavy sigh of relief in his arms as if the tension and stress had been completely dissipated from your body with a simple hug from him. 

Across the waiting room, your two children were distracted by some toys in the corner, playing together, unbothered, as if it were just another day. Watching them for a moment over your shoulder, the only thing George could notice about them was the blue bandaid on your son’s temple.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, voice still a little shaky from the shock as you updated him on the well-being of your children, “She’s the best out of the three of us, basically completely unharmed. Little guy’s cut was from the impact…hitting just the right part of his carseat. I took the worst of it.”

George tore his attention away from the children to look back at you, finally getting a proper look at you up close. It was then that he noticed the bruising over your nose and down your right cheek and jaw, colouring your skin in purples and greens. His eyes trailed down your profile to where you held out your trembling hands, your right wrist wrapped in a bandage.

“Just a minor sprain,” you assured him before he could worry too much. You tried to make light of it with a soft, “The paramedic said it was likely from how hard I was holding onto the wheel when we were hit. She said it was like my ‘mama bear’ instincts took over, trying to keep control of the car the best I could.”

George pulled in a shaky breath and moved back in to hug you again if needing to feel you there, that you were really okay. Your arms smoothly wrapped around his shoulders as he pulled you close, both of you just holding onto each other for a moment. 

“What happened?” George finally asked. He felt as though he had been keeping that question on the tip of his tongue since you had first called him, wanting to know but also wanting to save himself from knowing the cold hard truth. 

You sniffled and pulled back just enough to look at him, although your eyes were downcast as if in shame, “Some idiot made a right turn at an intersection without looking. I braked and swerved just enough to not get entirely t-boned but he hit almost directly on the front driver's side. Hence,”

You held up your sprained wrist.

“Saved the kiddies though.” you mumbled. 

George gently set a hand on your face and pulled you in to press a kiss to your head as if he could pour all his love into that simple action. 

The power behind it had your eyes welling with tears and you whispered out a shaky, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

George tenderly trailed the back of his finger over your uninjured cheek to swipe away a stray tear, “What on earth do you have to be sorry about right now?”

“We took your C63.” you whimpered, another heavy tear dripping down your cheek, “It’s…so fucked. So, so fucked. I know how much you love it…how much you protect it and I didn’t think—”

“Shhh,” George hushed you softly, gently rubbing your biceps comfortingly as he stared into your tear-filled eyes, “The last thing on my mind right now is the car. I hadn’t once thought about the car since you called me. You, the kids…that’s all I care about right now. That’s all I care about ever.”

“Okay,” you choked out through a sob, lifting your hands to hide your face as you burst into tears in the middle of the hospital waiting room. 

George’s arms encircled you and he pressed another kiss to your head, cradling you against his chest and surrounding you with his love and comfort. As much as he adored that car, he truly didn’t care about it in that moment as he held you in his arms. He had trusted you with it, knowing you were always a safe driver, but the one thing that he always knew was the scariest part of driving was that you can’t control what anyone else on the road does.

As he held you, he whispered words of reassurance to you, reminding you with a serious, “We can fix up a car…we can get a new car…but I can’t get a new you.”

His comfort had the damns breaking, causing you to let out your bottled up emotions into his neck with a sobbing, “I was so scared.” 

His heart nearly broke at your confession and he rubbed his hand over your back, comforting you in the only way he knew how and the only way he could offer, “I know, my love. I’m here. I got you.”

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[pennyluna]

PERFECT FIT - ONE SHOT - JUNGKOOK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Female) 🔞🔞

Genre: Friends with benefits, Coworkers. Idol. Tour manager.

Plot: College friends turned Coworkers turned friends with benefits. (turned couple implied)

Word count: 2.762

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this one. It's a bit longer than what I usually write but I hope that is okay.

"Go.. Get out" I say while giggling and fake pushing my lover away.

Jungkook and I have been sleeping together for a while, He is the lead singer in a band and I am said band's Tour manager. I know, I know... it seems unethical but keep in mind that we have been friends and a little more than that since college but then due to career choices we went our separate ways, we kept in touch a bit and didn't really reunite until later on when he was already famous and I had become an events manager in the Entertainment industry. We started hooking up again around a month before I got this job, once we started working together we tried to take a break for the sake of being professional but somehow ended up in bed together. Again and again and again.

"You have to go out there for rehearsal before they come looking for you again" I insist, which isn't really working since he is tracing his nose against my neck slowly.

"Ugh, I don't want to go" his hands starts to tease the small of my back, playing with the hem of my t-shirt. "I would rather stay here and go for round two instead"

A voice asking if anyone has eyes on Jungkook comes through the walkie talkie on my hand, so I push him away "As tempting as that sounds, we gotta go. NOW."

After fixing ourselves I spoke into the walkie talkie announcing that I would be walking him to rehearsals. No one found it weird that we spent a lot of time together since we had known each other for a long time.

During rehearsals I liked to sit in the front rows working on my computer, this show in London is very important so I like to double check everything more accurately than usual. There would be a couple of musical guest joining him on stage so I wanted to make sure the schedule was perfect before going to get some rest and then getting ready for the show.

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

Before the show I head into the backstage room where Jungkook is getting ready, I need to check that he has everything he needs and that everyone is on time.

"Finally.. you are here." he says exhaling heavily.

"Yuup.  what's happening?"

"Nothing, I'm a little more nervous than usual so I need one of your pep talks" He says loudly, looking discreetly around the room and smirking at me. I narrow my eyes in confusion, he never needs pep talks.

"OH, Yeah of course." I say as normally as possible before clearing my throat and walking to the door to hold it open "Okay everyone, we are going to need a moment. You are doing a wonderful job, please go and enjoy some refreshments in the back stage area"

I watch as the last person exits and by the time the door fully closes, Jungkook is already crashing against my body, pressing me against the door and kissing me hard.

"Pep talk, huh?" I say breathless before continuing with the kiss. I know what he needs, he needs to take the edge off and he needs my body for that.

Mindful of his already done hair, we start to take our clothes off and fall onto the sofa. I'm on top of him straddling him and grinding on him before he grabs his cock and rubs it against my entrance -God that feels good- I moan into his kiss and then gasp when he pushes himself inside of me. The neediness he is showing with his kiss and his grip on my hips is telling me this won't last long..

My previous thought is confirmed once he turns us so that I am now under him, his face buried on my neck and I can smell his cologne, incredibly sexy mixed with his personal scent. I could pass out from how good I'm feeling right now. His deep and slow strokes inside of me are killing me and giving me life all at once and I want to scream when I reach my orgasm but I know I need to keep it low since anyone could hear us if they got too close to the door.

I hear him grunt and suddenly feel my body pulled from the couch and bent over the table, I know he needs me to take him fully now. He slides into me and moves my hair from my back, that's the last gentle touch I will feel before our final orgasm of the session. His pace starts increasing rapidly, his hands holding my hips in place while he rams himself in me, with hard and precise moves. I can feel my orgasm building and I know he is getting close too because of the small shake of his hands on my hips. A couple more strokes and he empties himself inside of me with a grunt. His breathing heavy when he bents to kiss my back gently.

We clean ourselves and get ready before heading out. He stops by the door and looks at me "Hey I want us to talk about something after the concert tonight." he turns around and heads straight to the stage. He looks fucking good.

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

The concert went amazing, He just sang his last song and is now heading back stage to change into normal clothes and prepare to go back to the hotel. I would typically meet him there but this time I have a lot of post concert work to do before we travel to the next country.

I finish earlier than expected so I came back to the hotel, showered and decide to go and insert myself on Jungkook's post concert ritual. Long hot bath, nice food and movie.

While walking to his room, I get a funny feeling but I ignore it, blaming it on how tired I am. I pull out my spare key card to his room and let myself in. Closing the door quietly to avoid alerting him and spoil the surprise visit but when I turn around I am the one that is surprised because standing there holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses, is a completely naked, gorgeous blonde girl and my hearts drops to the floor, right next to the pile of clothes pooling around the girl's feet.

Before the blonde can speak I turn around to leave the room but suddenly the bathroom door opens.

"What is going on?" Jungkook says, his voice laced with confusion. He scans the naked girl and then looks at me. "(Y/N)?"

I open my mouth to speak but I close it immediately when the blonde moves towards him. Instead I shut my eyes for a second and breath out. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company... we can discuss the concert tomorrow. Please enjoy your night." I try to offer a nice smile but I'm sure it didn't look sincere at all and maybe my glossy eyes gave it away too.

"(Y/N) wait! I'm so confused, what- I thought we- Please wait-" He starts following me while I'm heading out of the room so I turn around and push a hand to his chest stopping him.

"Stop right there, the last thing we need is someone taking pictures of you" I point towards his naked body that is only covered by a towel "Following me out of your room. So save us a scandal and get back in your room."

My tone left no space for negotiation and I know he realized I was no longer in a friendly mood. This was work.

"Is that what you want (Y/N)?" I nod in response to his question and he pushes the door closed.

I head back to my room and crawl into bed, not even taking my clothes off. the next thing I hear is the alarm going off and telling me it was next day and I hadn't managed to sleep much. What I saw last night, had actually happened.

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

The next few dates of the tour went by in a blur, I had gone into full business mode and completely froze out any feelings I might have had for Jungkook. He had texted me multiple times but I ignored anything that wasn't work related. He was now just work, I had to force myself to believe that and to remind myself of that every time he walked by looking hot as hell. Or well, pretty much any time he did anything. So freaking annoying.

Everyone had noticed our slight distance from each other but we covered it with being busy and keeping our meetings short. Pretty much like the one we are in right now, discussing any details that need to be fixed or changed before the next concert. He is sitting right in front of me and for the first time since meeting him, I feel uncomfortably exposed while he stares at me, so I don't look up from my computer while everyone else is leaving the Hotel conference room.

"Hey can we talk?" I think I can sense something very close to worry in his tone.

"Are you concerned with any of the changes made to the schedule?" I say with my most professional tone, still not looking up from my computer.

"No, its not about that. I just think you should know that the other night-"

"It's none of my business." I stop his sentence "Whatever you do on your free time, does not concern me."

He starts to walk away and I can feel him stopping and looking at me.

"I'm confused. why are you mad at me?" His question sound charged with accusations.

"I'm not-" 

"Stop the bullshit." he stops me with an angry tone.

I stand up and walk towards him. "No, you stop. You don't need to explain anything because I get it.  That is how you relax. That is what you needed and I was busy." The anger and frustration I'm feeling is now evident in my voice.

"And that's how you thought I should do it?"

"Isn't that how you always do it?"  I start to walk away because I am not sure I want to hear his answer.

"No." He yells in frustration "Not since you."

I bend to grab my laptop and pack my bag so I can get out of here and go to the lunch room we reserved for everyone in the team. "Stop. Don't say things like that. I have to go." I'm almost pleading.

"There you go again."  he laughs but the sound lacks sincerity. "You are shutting me out, same way you did in college. You couldn't admit your feelings and accept mine so you shut me out and start dating that sorry excuse of a man who didn't even get you like I do." he sounds frustrated and when I turn to look at his face he looks it too. "The only difference is that this time you are arranging hookups for me."

I'm in slight shock from his mini rant, is he jealous? and his glare is captivating but his last words make no sense.

"Wait.. what are you talking about?" 

"We could work (Y/N)! That's what I wanted to talk to you about that night." he takes a step towards me.

"No, wait.. what? what do you mean I'm arranging hookups for you?"

"Isn't that why you brought Becca to my room?" He glares at me

what is he talking about. Why would he think I would do something like that. Is that what he thinks I did? wait.. does that mean he didn't call her? he seemed as surprised as me seeing her there. OMG.

He seems to notice the confusion in my face and starts to draw his own conclusions.

"Oh my God. Come with me..." He doesn't wait for me to agree and just grabs my hand and walks me to the lunch room stopping in front of a table where one his personal managers is working on his laptop. "Did you bring that girl into my room a couple of weeks ago?"

"Becca? Yeah, she called and I know you usually see her when we are in London so I just brought her in. Thought you might need some distraction." I'm surprised at how calmly and naturally he is talking about this. "Was everything okay? did you not have fun?"

"Don't bring or send any other girls into my room ever again." Jungkook's words were a command that made his manager look up and then look to where Jungkook's hand and mine were still attached. "Got it?"

"Yes of course." The manager's voice was pure confusion. He started to say something else but we walked away without hearing him.

Once outside in the corridor we stop walking and face each other. 

"Nothing happened with her." I know he is telling the truth. "I wanted you. I always want you."

"I believe you, Kook." I really do. I pull my hand from his "But we can't do this. You have been dating super models and actresses. A listers. Us dating would be a scandal that could ruin your career."

"Fuck that. I want you. My fans are the best, they would support me. The only person that seems to need convincing is you." He grabs my hand and starts walking again, this time to the elevator, then to his floor and then his room where he shuts his door behind us.

"What are we doing here Kook?"

"Let me remind you of how good we are together." He says unbuttoning his shirt then taking it off and walking towards me while I walk backwards until hitting his bed. "Let me show you how good we fit together." He starts kissing my neck holding me in place with a hand around my neck and the other one is undoing my zipper and then pulling down my dress and happily noticing I haven't been wearing a bra. 

His lips crash against mine passionately while his hands travel to my butt, he stops the kiss and kneels in front of me. Fuck. He is the most perfect man I have ever seen.

Looking up at me he starts to plant small kisses on my thighs and playing with the hem of my underwear. He moves to my core and kisses it through the lace before pulling down my underwear and going rough on my clit then moving his tongue around my folds. My knees weaken, this guy has many talents and this is gloriously one of the things he is best at.

My body starts trembling with my building orgasm and when I think he will slow down to torture me a bit like he usually likes to do, he goes rougher, making me come in an intense orgasm that would make me fall to my feet if he wasn't holding me.

Jungkook lets me fall gently into the bed while he stands to take his pants off, I can see his hard member bulging his jeans and when he frees it, my mouth waters with need.  When our eyes meet I can see the heat in Jungkook's eyes and I know mine mirror the same need.

He gets on top of me and I open my legs for him. He rubs the tip of his cock on my folds then kisses me gently while pushing inside me. I missed him and by the sound he made, he missed me too!

"My God. You feel so good." Jungkook says while moving slowly, he looks like he is struggling to control himself, so I lift my hips to meet his showing him how much I need him too and luckily he takes the signal and gives in pumping harder into me.

We are all sweaty and still needy for each other but we are close, my skin is full with goosebumps. My ankles are on his shoulders and his eyes on me are making my skin burn, his pumps are starting to be rougher, I know how close he is and so am I. I stretch my hand towards my butt and grab his balls gently playing with them which earns me a grunt and a warning look from him.  He kisses my ankle then letting my legs fall to his sides and bends to be face to face with me, allowing me to wrap my legs around him. He starts to pump even harder than before making my back curve, a few pumps later we are coming and ending in a mind blowing orgasm. 

He kisses me softly in between pants "Perfect. Fucking. Fit." He gently plops on top of me and says "Let me know if you need any more convincing." I don't. But I will definitely ask for it.

A/N 2: If you guys have any requests please do let me know. I appreciate any support you can give me 💜

[elliespassagerprincess]

Can u write reader and professor ellie taking care of Aurora while she’s on her period😭or like how they reacted and managed with her when she started being a teen

I love the professor ellie series!!💜💜

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie notices something’s off before Aurora even tells anyone—her daughter’s unusually quiet, subdued, curled up on the couch with a heat pack she likely snuck from the bathroom.

☆ She pauses mid-lecture grading when she gets a text from you: “Aurora got her period. She wants to talk to you too.” Ellie nearly drops her pen.

☆ Ellie rushes home, barely bothering to organize her research notes. She finds Aurora in bed, flushed and moody, and her heart breaks in the softest way.

☆ “My baby’s growing up,” Ellie whispers under her breath as she kneels beside Aurora’s bed, brushing her hair out of her face.

☆ Aurora is embarrassed, but Ellie makes it all scientific. She talks about hormones, menstruation as a biological marvel, how it’s a sign of health and maturity—her academic comfort zone.

☆ But behind the calm, Ellie is spiraling. She hugs you that night tighter than usual, muttering, “She was just in diapers. I remember the hospital smell.”

☆ Ellie becomes overly meticulous, ordering a dozen types of eco-friendly pads and period underwear. “We should get her a menstrual tracking journal. Actually, I’ll design one. I’ll code the app.”

☆ You catch her staring at Aurora’s baby pictures that night, eyes glassy. “She used to sleep on my chest every night,” she murmurs. “Now she barely wants a hug.”

☆ Ellie insists on giving Aurora a full menstrual health crash course—whiteboard diagrams, booklets she prints out herself. Aurora begs her to stop.

☆ “You are a miracle of biology,” Ellie tells Aurora proudly, cupping her face. “Do you understand how powerful this makes you?”

☆ She accidentally calls it Aurora’s “menarche” one too many times before Aurora yells from the bathroom, “Stop calling it that, Mom!”

☆ Ellie tries to make it celebratory. She buys her daughter her favorite dessert and a bouquet of red roses. Aurora is horrified. You laugh. Ellie sulks.

☆ At night, Ellie overthinks. “What if she gets cramps like you did? What if she misses school? What if the boys—”

☆ “I swear if a boy says something dumb to her, I will break the school board in half,” Ellie hisses to you while brushing her teeth.

☆ She starts leaving small care packages in Aurora’s room: chocolate, heat packs, handwritten notes that say “You’re stronger than you feel.”

☆ She writes in her research journal about it—“Transgenerational development of daughters: the maternal lens of biological transition.”

☆ Ellie pulls out your old pregnancy journals, the ones you kept when Aurora was in your belly, and reads them late at night.

☆ She becomes more protective than ever. Any eye roll from Aurora is met with quiet over-analysis. “Is it hormones? Did I do something wrong?”

☆ She talks to Arnold too. “Your sister might be more sensitive right now. You have to be patient. Gentle.” Arnold, chewing cereal, goes, “Okay. Can I still prank her?”

☆ Ellie insists on giving Aurora a key to a “quiet box” of supplies in her office, in case she ever gets her period at school. “Biological emergencies require strategic preparedness.”

☆ Ellie writes a personal letter to Aurora she hides in a journal: it’s emotional, raw, academic, filled with references to feminist theory and the sacredness of menstruation. Aurora won’t find it for years.

☆ She clings to you that week. Every time Aurora slams a door or retreats into music, Ellie comes to you like she’s been stabbed. “Tell me she still needs me.”

☆ Ellie creates a folder on her computer called “Aurora - Adolescence: Phase I.” It contains spreadsheets tracking patterns and emotional shifts.

☆ She’s emotional watching Aurora brush her own hair, apply lip gloss, and adjust her hoodie like a woman. “She looks like you,” she whispers to you.

☆ “It’s not just her growing up,” Ellie finally admits one night. “It’s the countdown. Soon she’ll be gone. It’s like…I’m losing time.”

☆ Arnold feels a little left out. Ellie is hyper-focused on Aurora, and he starts intentionally acting sillier to get her attention.

☆ He pretends to be sick so he can stay home too. Ellie sees right through it, but hugs him anyway and lets him stay.

☆ Ellie gives Arnold “brother missions”—small tasks like heating up Aurora’s hot water bottle or picking her favorite snacks.

☆ She builds his confidence by reminding him he’s the little man of the house—while also telling him, “Never assume you understand a woman’s pain.”

☆ Ellie starts a “boys growing up” project for Arnold—teaching him hygiene, boundaries, and how to talk about emotions. She pulls research from three parenting psychology journals.

☆ Aurora slaps his arm one day when he teases her. Ellie pulls them both aside for a long talk about mutual respect and hormonal volatility. They both groan in sync.

☆ Arnold is the first one to tell Ellie when Aurora starts crying at a commercial. “Mom, she’s leaking from her eyes again. Help?”

☆ Ellie starts planning more one-on-one time with Arnold, taking him to museums, science fairs, or just letting him help with her university lectures.

☆ Arnold asks if girls are going to be “weird forever.” Ellie gives him a 20-minute TED Talk. He regrets asking.

☆ Ellie sets up a whiteboard in the kitchen with color-coded schedules: Aurora’s cycle (secretly coded), Arnold’s soccer, your appointments. It looks like a military base.

☆ Ellie uses every chance to teach emotional awareness. When Arnold asks, “Is Aurora dying?” Ellie goes, “No, buddy. She’s blooming.”

☆ You notice that Ellie gets more clingy with Arnold too—like she’s subconsciously bracing for him growing up next. She kisses his hair constantly.

☆ Ellie insists they both watch “Turning Red” together. She ends up crying harder than Aurora or Arnold.

☆ Ellie buys a book titled “Parenting Emotional Teens and Tactical Preteens.” She highlights every other page and forces you to read it.

☆ When Aurora teases Arnold about still sleeping with his stuffed dino, Ellie snaps: “He can do that until college. Leave him alone.”

☆ You find her staring wistfully at a baby in the grocery store. “That smell. That tiny head. Look how the mother holds them,” she murmurs like she’s hypnotized.

☆ Aurora’s transition makes Ellie acutely aware of the passage of time. “It went so fast. I missed so much.”

☆ Ellie asks you, gently, cautiously, “Would you ever… want to do it again?”

☆ She starts bringing up embryo storage again—talking about the ones you froze during Aurora and Arnold’s IVF rounds.

☆ She even looks into donor matches, mapping out compatibility charts late at night with that hyper-focused intensity in her eyes.

☆ Ellie watches old videos of you pregnant. She pauses every time the camera pans to her—how young she looked, how in love.

☆ “We were just kids,” she says, her fingers tracing the laptop screen. “Look at how we looked at each other.”

☆ She imagines a third child—one more baby to hold, to raise slowly, to savor. “I’d do it better this time,” she tells you. “I’d be more present.”

☆ Ellie jokes about becoming a stay-at-home mom if you get pregnant. You laugh. She’s dead serious.

☆ She starts rubbing your stomach absentmindedly when you cuddle, her thoughts already drifting.

☆ Ellie dreams about it. She wakes up misty-eyed. “It was a girl this time,” she tells you, voice fragile.

☆ Aurora’s growth inspires nostalgia and longing. She keeps whispering to you, “Just one more. Let me love another one with you.”

☆ She buys a baby onesie at Target “just in case.” You find it hidden in her drawer next to her research notes.

☆ Ellie watches you with Arnold and Aurora and murmurs, “You were always the best mother. I want to see you do it again.”

☆ You catch her re-reading her pregnancy books, bookmarking milestones. She’s preparing mentally like it’s a dissertation.

☆ Ellie secretly writes a new lullaby on her guitar, just in case. She records it one night and labels the file “For Baby #3.”

☆ She visits the IVF clinic “just to ask questions” and comes back with brochures and a sticky note that says “viable chance.”

☆ She becomes softer with you—pulling you into her lap, caressing your skin like she’s trying to memorize you. “I still want everything with you.”

☆ Ellie starts drawing again—sketches of a crib, baby feet, a silhouette of you pregnant.

☆ One night, in bed, she lays her head on your chest and whispers, “If we start now… they’ll grow up with Arnold. We’ll still be young enough.”

☆ She starts romanticizing everything—your hands, your eyes, your voice—like she did when you first met.

☆ Ellie finds the notebook from when she proposed to you. She rewrites her vows in the back, silently renewing them.

☆ Her obsession with you resurfaces with full force—watching you like you're a miracle she can't believe she married.

☆ She spends entire evenings curled into you, fingers tracing the veins in your hands. “You’re the beginning and end of everything.”

☆ She gets lost in old photos—the ones where you’re pregnant, holding baby Aurora, laughing with milk stains on your shirt. She stares at you like you hung the stars.

☆ Ellie writes another letter—this one for you—filled with her dreams, her research, and her endless need to create a life with you again.

☆ “I’m not done building a life with you,” she tells you one afternoon, with coffee on her lips and love in her voice.

☆ Ellie becomes more tender, more deliberate—making tea for you without asking, massaging your back, memorizing your cycles like a ritual.

☆ Her obsession is quieter now—refined, deeper, rooted in love and years of growing together. But it burns just as fiercely.

☆ “Let’s do it,” she finally says one morning, her voice trembling. “Let’s make another little version of us.”

[shipmansflannels]

welcome home, cheater | jackie taylor x reader

oh, hi! well, sorry for promising I was going to post something yesterday but ending up not doing it. I was trying to take some time out of the computer and trying to organize my creativity. so, this is what I could manage to post after a day off. hope it's fine. enjoy! sorry if it's too short, it was actually based on a youtube video I saw a long time ago and I couldn't remember all the details in it. hope you enjoyed it anyway. thanks for all the support, and the rebloggs, and the likes, and the following!

enjoy!

sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

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

welcome home, cheater | jackie taylor x reader

-> prompt: after an embarrassing situation at the mall, jackie has a jealous crisis. <-

warnings: non cannon, no crash, most fem!reader but it works for gender neutral readers too, jealous!jackie, jackie being a girlfaillure, 1996 timeline, mentions of randy walsh, plot twist.

***

She had spent the entire trip back in silence.

It had become an awkward silence in the car and you couldn't help but look at her and make sure everything was okay in the passenger seat, but Jackie hadn't said a word since you left the mall and she hadn't said anything when you were driving home either.

Her parents were on a business trip, and as two teenage girlfriends who did everything in secret, you were taking advantage of those days to be together. But suddenly, everything had become a confusing mess.

Opening and closing the car door with force, Jackie grabbed the bags of clothes that were hers and set off into the house in a hurry, before you could even park the car properly in the Taylor's huge garage.

Picking up your purchases and following her into the house, you threw them on the couch and promised that you would organize it after finding out what was wrong. As you imagined, Jackie had locked herself in her room and was probably listening to loud music on that damn Walkman you had given her for her last birthday.

In fact, if you had known that it would be the cause of all your ruin, you would have thought twice when you saw him in the store window begging to be taken home.

Knocking on the door three times just to be sure, you kept your voice low, hoping she would hear you anyway, over the loud music.

"Jax, can we just talk for a minute?"

There was no response. And instead of insisting, you just pulled the handle, not at all impressed that the door wasn't locked.

"Jackie, I'm serious. What did I do? Could you please talk to me for a second and sort things out?"

She looked at you, clearly listening to you, and with a sigh, she took the Walkman from her ears and threw it back hard, those huge eyes staring into your face. Like a stubborn child, she crossed her arms and sighed again.

“I think I should be the one asking that question,” she whispered, her voice a little firmer than you were usually expecting. Generally, while you had a calmer and more relaxed posture, Jackie was always excited, always outgoing, always talking loudly, as if she was always filled with sugar all over her body.

You frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"What did I do wrong, (Y\N)? What did I do wrong for you to leave me so easily, and right in front of my face, for Randy Walsh? What's different about him?”

Once again, you frowned, looking at her. "Jax, I don't get it. What the hell are you talking about?"

She huffed, returned to her normal expression and, with a roll of her eyes, leaned against the headboard. That was the signal she used for you to start a cuddle session on ordinary days, but now, you didn't know if you should join her.

So you just sat on the edge of the bed, still with your eyes fixed on her. "Is there something wrong? You can tell me, I promise I won't explode. You know I hate it when we fight, Jackie."

"You. Randy Walsh. At the video game store. Small talk. That pissed me off."

She explained, in pauses, now avoiding looking at you. Relaxing your expression, you gave an incredulous smile, but waited for her to continue, just to prove your point, and not to interrupt her in the middle of her justification.

"And what's worse, you left me waiting for hours in front of that stupid ice cream shop with my stupid raspberry cone in my hand, with my stupid shopping bags in my hand. Not hours, but…", she counted on her fingers, like if she was trying to remember. "... fifteen minutes, approximately."

You laughed again, scratching the back of your head. And she continued rambling.

"And you two were giggling, and you looked like a fool in love. I wouldn't care if it was a girl or a nice guy, I swear, but Randy Walsh! It's unacceptable, (Y\N)! How many times have you bumped into each other? through the school hallways? Once? Half a minute?”

You looked at her. "Look, love, listen… You got it all wrong."

"And I know I'm freaking out like it's a nightmare, like it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life - and it really is, but whatever -. It's just… what would you expect me to do? I swear, it made me want to take your car, go home and leave you there alone, just to welcome you with a fucking sign stuck in the living room saying "welcome home, cheater"… But of course I didn't do that, I'm freaking out like it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life, (Y\N), do you happen to realize what you fucking did? Randy Walsh, really? Are you fucking kidding me?"

You laughed again. "Jackie, please let me explain."

"Ah, now you want to explain? Well, go ahead. Explain yourself."

You sighed, looking at her and thinking exactly how you were going to put each thing into words, regretting it soon after, but knowing that you should move on. Looking straight into her eyes, you decided to start slowly, as you should.

"Do you remember the last day we went shopping? The day we spent at the new game store that opened on floor three and you saw that Nintendo 64 and your eyes lit up? So…", you bit your lip, nervously. "That day when you saw me talking to Randy for the first time, after coming back from practice, I was just trying to see if I could buy one cheaper, since he works at the game store in the other mall and I didn't have money specifically for the Nintendo from that store… And he promised me that he would try to ask his boss for an order, and that he would give me answers later…"

She widened her eyes, following you speaking as if it were the most important thing in the world, and from her reactions, you realized that you had made a mistake, and you realized that she also knew that she had made a mistake in judging you so early.

"Today, we were just passing by the aisle at Randy's game store, so I thought I would try to see if he had gotten the Nintendo yet… He told me yes, that it was on order and should arrive in a few days. And that made me extremely happy, Jackie, because… because it was my gift to you and because it was… well, it was your surprise birthday present."

With another bite on your lip, you laughed softly as you avoided looking at your girlfriend, who had her eyes even wider and her mouth open.

"That-? What-? How-? Oh, my God, babe… I…"

You nodded, laughing again.

"I screwed up, didn't I? I got it wrong and screwed up-"

"No, it's okay, I also overreacted, I should have told you… not told you, but at least given signs."

Jackie pouted regretfully and opened her arms. You fit into them well and breathed in her strawberry scent while ruffling those still wet hair. She whimpered a few times and hid her face in your neck, embarrassed. Her cheeks were too red, almost rosy.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, love. I didn't mean to ruin the surprise," she whispered. "It's just that seeing you and Randy together, I thought-"

"It's okay, Jax, I said it's okay. It was half my fault anyway…"

You shrugged and lifted her face to kiss her slowly. It started with a peck and then turned into a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer. When you pulled away from her, you whispered, touching the white blouse with butterflies sewn on the chest, looking down.

"Listen, I told you that I want to be clear about my feelings, and that I want to make us work, so… if I were cheating on you, which obviously I'm not, I would probably tell you. There's no reason I hide this from you, Jackie. Not even out of shame." You touched her lips with your fingers. "I love you. I wouldn't trade you for anything in this world. I swear to all that is sacred. You are the most incredible girl I have ever met and you are the woman of my life, I have never been so sure of that as I am now. "

She sighed and smiled, making another pout that you couldn't resist kissing, laughing softly and taking a moment to pull away from her.

"Besides, Randy Walsh isn't my type, and I'm not his type either…", you laughed again. "And when I say that, I mean it literally…"

Jackie frowned, her clear eyes emanating curiosity. "What you mean?"

“Jackie…” you shrugged, scratching your forehead. "He is gay."

[ns-games]

2024 CrowdStrike Incident

I just wanted to document my day today. Since I feel this is a pretty major historical event in the history of computing.

From my understanding, the update that CrowdStrike pushed occurred last night, but I wasn't made aware of it until this morning.

I heard the notification for Microsoft Teams go off on my work phone a couple of times while I was still in bed. I decided not to answer right away since employees are supposed to call me directly if there's a production issue. However, around 5:30 this morning, I got a call from one of my team leads telling me that a CrowdStrike update got pushed earlier that has now "BitLockered" a bunch of computers.

For context, my team uses the term "BitLockered" for any time a computer crashes and requires the BitLocker encryption key to recover.

In any case, I was asked if I could run over to our local distribution center right away to start mitigating the damage. I immediately got up, got dressed, grabbed my work laptop and bag and left. I skipped my morning coffee and shower so I could get there ASAP.

When I finally managed to get inside the building, I started taking a look around the front office and saw several computers stuck on the Windows Recovery Mode screen. Already starting to look like a bad sign. I started booting up my work laptop, which I thankfully did not leave turned over overnight, and headed upstairs to a bank of production computers. As soon as I got up there, I saw a sea of Windows Recovery Mode screens.

By this point my Microsoft Teams notifications started going off non-stop, and I started running the recommended fix on one of the computers. Basically I was trying to make sure I understood how to perform the fix. At this point, it became apparent we were going to have to touch every endpoint in our network at every facility.

Around 6:00AM, I got a call from a manager from a separate facility asking me about what was going on. This is someone that's constantly just called me instead of submitting a help desk ticket, and I've tried to be patient with. Today I had to be a bit more blunt and state that I couldn't drop what I was doing to come over and help, but that someone would be there later today to assist. This manager continued to try and call me throughout the day, but I had to keep telling him that I was not going to be available all day.

Around 6:30AM one of my co-workers made it to the distribution center to help. I ran the fix on his laptop and we started working to fix each computer one by one. A bit later I noticed my mom texted me that she heard about this in the news. So I looked up "CrowdStrike" on Google and found that not only were we affected by it, but many other major companies were.

As we started getting workstations back online, it became apparent that was only going to be half the battle, as this issue caused most of our servers to crash as well. But at this point, we figured it would be best to continue to get as many workstations back up and running one by one. But because the servers were down, I kept getting asked if I could restore a connection, which unfortunately we couldn't do until the server team could run the fixes on our servers.

Eventually I was asked to join a Zoom call so I could start providing other facilities with BitLocker keys so they could start running the fix on their own computers. Some machines we determined could be fixed by reverting to a restore point. Others we had find a way to manually remove the "C-00000291*.sys* file by booting the computer into Safe Mode with Networking. Those devices ended up costing us a bunch of time to get back up and running.

By the time 5:00PM rolled around, I asked if I could go home and continue to work from there. So I took the opportunity to go home, get myself cleaned up, and continue to work. By 8:30PM it seemed that things had died down to the point we could stop for the day. I'm sure we've got a few machines we still need to apply the fix to, but we managed to get our core business back up and running within the matter of a few hours.

So yeah, long story. But I just felt like documenting it, given that this is an event that's probably going to be pretty well remembered in the history books.

[star-lights-up]

OKAY OKAY OKAY BUT: Cherik "The Martian" AU

So I'm rereading the martian today because i am sick again, so obviously I need hard science fiction to combat the existential dread, and my brain just kept latching onto dialogue bits and going "CHERIK! MAKE IT CHERIK"

My thoughts are:

Charles and Erik were friends at one point, maybe during college, maybe at the beginning of training, IDK, at some point they had a bit of a falling out. They're civil enough to still get put on the mission together but it's well known they don't get along.

Though there was that one night, where they were both kinda drunk, and they got together......... ("We can't do this again." Erik said, angrily, in the morning. Charles left without so much as glancing at him, let alone responding.)

There's a sandstorm on sol 6, and the team is trying to evacuate (probably the first class team because that's just easy. Hank = pilot. I bet you moira is the leader lady, lewis, military trained or whatever. And everyone else is there too, but i'm on my asthma medication so I can't think clearly, so they don't get specific roles)

The radio dish comes off, impales Charles, he blows backward while unconscious (lower gravity or some shit idk physics) and crashes into Erik, who then gets hit by more debris. The thing that impaled Charles also impaled his biotelemetry reader, and Erik's got crushed on impact/by the debris, so both of them read as dead to their crew members, who have to leave or else they die too.

Erik wakes up first, since he's not actively bleeding and his suit's not impaled and loosing air. The sandstorm is over, the HAB (think space station/tent) is intact (yay!), but the MAV (think small spaceship good for like, a round trip to and from a larger vessel) is gone (fuck).

He tries to wake Charles up, but ends up dragging him back to the HAB on his own. He takes out the antenna that impaled him and sews up and bandages the cut, while Charles is semi-conscious. It's painful for now, but he'll live. Erik's exhausted, so he goes back to his own bunk and falls asleep, kinda hoping this is all a nightmare.

It's not gone in the morning. He's still stuck on mars in a glorified tent with limited resources and his least favorite person on the team.

They talk to each other, Charles thanks him for helping him, and they decide that they're just going to have to work together to get off of mars alive.

Charles = botanist, erik is the engineer (basically gonna have them split the original main guy's braincell. They already share one anyway).

Potato farming

Along the way, they kinda sorta start becoming friends again. They're relying on each other to survive, they're the only people each other can talk to... They play chess on the computers and watch Moira's awful 70's television and listen to disco that she brought along with her. They farm potatoes and jerry rig rovers and then oops, they fell asleep in the same tiny bunk watching tv together. Oops, they hugged after the potatoes germinated. Oops, they kissed in celebration when they finally made contact with NASA again.

Just like that, they've fallen into a new rhythm. They still argue a lot, but now there's also a good amount of kissing and little fleeting touches while they work together and they put their bunks together and fall asleep in each other's arms ("Do you realize," Charles says one night, Erik curled against his chest, pressing slow kisses to his collarbone, "We're the only people to have made love on a planet other than Earth?" Erik snorts softly, "NASA's not going to be hearing about that, if I can help it." "You realize that the HAB's always recording us, yes? They'll get the footage when we get back to Earth." "...Right. Huh." Erik frowns, then shrugs, "Worth it." Charles laughs.)

Erik gets stuck inside the airlock when the HAB deflates and they loose all their potatoes. Charles is in the rover and, for a while, was convinced Erik was dead. Until he saw the airlock start to roll towards the HAB, and then he started steering the rover over.

After they got the HAB back up, NASA tells them they're sending a supply probe called "Iris." (Transmission goes like this: [08:31] JPL: Keep us posted on any mechanical or electric problems. By the way, the name of the probe we're sending is Iris. Named after the Greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. She's also the goddess of rainbows. [08:47] LEN/XAV: Gay probe coming to save us. Got it. Erik heads back to the HAB. "Hello, darling. How's Houston?" Charles says, not turning from his soil samples or whatever the fuck he's been doing for three days. "They're sending us a pride-themed probe full of granola bars." Erik answers, shoving off his EVA suit. Charles turns to give him a quizzical, are-you-joking kind of look, then bursts out laughing upon seeing Erik's dead serious face. "Well, it's certainly fitting," He says, walking up to Erik and wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.)

Anyways. Iris doesn't make it, shit keeps going wrong, BUT eventually their team catches wind of a plan -- a risky plan, but one that could save cherik. So, without houston's permission, they pilot their ship on a course back to mars. They'll do a flyby, and if Charles and Erik can get to the site of Ares 5 and the MAV for that mission, retrofit the MAV, make it to their team's ship without dying/miscalculating and shooting off into the depths of outer space, they can get to that ship and on a course back to earth by sol 549.

They spend a bunch of time retrofitting their rovers for the trip, and so begins the classic cherik roadtrip -- martian style!! (I just want to mention that there's like no space, so just picture them cuddled up for a good night's sleep on the front bench of the rover. there. cuteness among the science).

They flip at one point. I could add details but it's been a while of me writing this and my brain is slowly dying and i'm tired so. that's it.

They make it to ares 5, they retrofit the MAV, then they do The Riskiest Space Flight of All Time. Random shit goes wrong, everyone's improvising, it pretty much seems like they're done for...

They get back to the big ship. They're safe!! (well, as safe as you can be in space.) But they get a hot shower and full meals and much more comfortable bunks (in separate rooms, technically, but Erik refuses to leave Charles's side so they end up in one bunk that first night. Usually they'd try to be a bit more discreet, but what the fuck. They've been stuck on mars. They almost just died. They deserve to fall asleep in each other's arms.)

They are HEROS back on earth. They get married almost immediately -- it seems quick to a lot of people, but they're so trauma bonded that, like, it's necessary. they go to paris on their honeymoon and get lots of free stuff. They never go to space again lol (and gladly)

THE END (fucking finally, it's 12:00 am on the dot and i've been writing this for 45 minutes.)

EDIT: some art I did for this au

EDIT: I fucking did it. I started writing it. Oops.