#now i should go to sleep because it is monday and i do have work in five hours for kids who won't show up

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: April 15

"Something in the Way She Moves" by James Taylor

[mean-vampyre]

Time machine to jump 48 hours into the future

[grimandghoulish]

.

[cheruverse]

screw that pillow— screw himself too!

saiki k. x reader

✦ — notes : i am doing anything BUT the diap series prolouge. im sorry okay pls forgive me 😭 i promise ill try to upload it during the week

i can't sleep without a pillow it feels so incomplete and empty and it irritates me ARRGGHHHHH

୨୧ cws : touch starved reader. fluff.

✦ — warnings : established romantic relationship. probably ooc saiki.

you and SAIKI planned to watch a movie at his house while having both of your favorite sweets at the same time.

saiki had just teleported to buy coffee jelly and your favorite desert at a convenience store.

you stared at the open window of his bedroom. it's a sunny day. the sunlight pooled through the window, giving your room a lukewarm ambience.

the birds chirped as the wind breezed in the room. the cool breeze was subtly brushing your face.

you inhale the fresh air, and relax for a bit as you bask in your lonesome.

that was when you realized that you were feeling tired and drowsy. your eyes were starting to close on you. your mind goes all the way back to monday; you remembered you didn't get enough sleep this week because of some class report that was super important for your grade.

you fight the urge to sleep and occasionally flick yourself on the forehead a few times to wake yourself up. it worked, but it didn't stay for long.

curses. it's getting hard to stay up. you wouldn't want to ruin a date, would you?

.. or maybe you should go and get some shut eye for a bit. saiki's gone for a few minutes so you have some time to take a power nap.

you yawned, rubbing your eyes slowly. it wouldn't hurt, right?

yeah, it wouldn't.

you slowly feel your drowsiness enveloping you, and immediately fall asleep.

you close your eyes, deciding to snooze for a bit. you grab a nearby pillow and cuddle with it, and the pillow smelled like saiki.

saiki teleports back with a bag filled with coffee jelly and your favorite dessert, and sees your figure cuddling a plushie.

'figures, i knew they would be sleeping by now.' he rubs his eyes through his glasses. he's aware you hadn't had enough sleep this week, and the lack of sleep made you miserable.

saiki stared at the pillow you were hugging. he knew you were touch starved and absolutely hated it. he'd swat your hand away if you tried to pinch his cheeks, or if he was feeling petty, he'd teleport behind you if you wanted to surprise him a hug; he's not the one to like physical touch.

he's seen you cuddle plushies and pillows in your sleep and he took you as the type to become cuddly and clingy in your sleep, but why is he getting so worked up just because of a mere pillow?

'no, it's nothing to me. why would i get—'

then it hit him hard. saiki, an all knowing and powerful psychic, getting jealous because of a lousy pillow? absolutely foolish. he wouldn't feel like that at all!

this is something silly to be absurd about, and he felt preposterous; not only on that damn pillow but himself too, for getting so pissed at it for some stupid reason. screw that pillow— screw himself too!

a sigh escapes his lips as he sets the bag down at his table. he wouldn't mind spending the rest of the day sleeping in with you anyway, he's tired too.

he walks to his bed, carefully lying down as to not wake you up. the two of you are in close proximity and he becomes hyperaware with his surroundings, his mind racing with his thoughts.

it feels weird for him to be this close to you, even if you had exchanged kisses and hugs in the past, but you always initiated them. this time, he's the one initiating.

maybe this wasn't all too bad.

he reluctantly encircled his arm around your waist, pulling you close. he feels you shifting to snuggle up to him, your head leaning to his chest.

saiki closes his eyes and immediately felt lightheaded after, enveloping your warmth as he falls into deep slumber.

you're going to have to wake up to a lazy psychic after.

reblogs are appreciated! ♡

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Can I request something with just telling hotch that he deserve a break, deserve to be happy and maybe angst but with happy ending please

Thank take care

So, this took yonks for me to do, I'm so sorry. But I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: mentions of a rough case, (slight) tough love, bad sleep schedules, the word 'ass'

It had been a bad case. You knew it had been a bad case because the second Aaron got back, he gave you a small tight smile and a quick kiss before immediately heading to his office. Barely stopping to get changed. He didn’t take a nap, or have a bite to eat, not even a coffee. Simply sat down and immediately began working. Which he had been doing for six hours straight now, immediately after a week long case – with very little sleep during that week – a five hour flight which he most definitely did paperwork during, and you know for a fact that he didn’t sleep last night.

This left you with no choice. You knocked on the door lightly before walking in, Aaron writing away, trying to get all of his thoughts down on paper before they evaporated.

“You need a break.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. He looked up at you slightly, despite being a tall man, you were still an inch or two taller. “You deserve a break.”

“I can’t right now,” He said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve got too much paperwork to do. Strauss wants it all in on Monday.”

“Then tell her, if she has a problem with it, she can talk to me.” You said, pulling him away from his desk. “Because right now, you need rest. And I will fight you tooth and nail until you agree. So I suggest you surrender quickly. And don’t even try to use your FBI mojo, you’ve not slept in a minimum of two days, a strong gust of wind could take you down.”

“Fine, fine.” He huffed, letting you drag him up, out of his office, and into the lounge.

“Sit.” You said, pointing to the couch, when he opened his mouth to argue, you pointed at him. “Ah, don’t even think about it. Sit your ass down, with love.”

He raised an eyebrow, a faux look of annoyance on his face at the instructions. You just give him a sweet smile and walk into the kitchen. You come back a few seconds later with a bottle of water, some snacks, a drink for yourself, and a plan.

“Right, we are going to watch a movie.” You stated, plopping down next to him. “We are going to cuddle. And you, my dear, are not going to even think about work.”

Aaron gave you a small smile. “Sounds like a plan. What movie are we watching?”

“Labyrinth, obviously. That was a stupid question.” You said, flicking on the TV.

He gave a small chuckle. “My deepest apologises.”

“As you should.” You said, curling into him. “Now, shut up and watch the movie. We’ll get takeout after.”

“Sounds perfect.”

[sports-on-sundays]

Can request one where y/n is the sister of a f1 driver ( u can choose) and they find out she is dating either Fermin,pedri,or gavi because she appears at one of the games?!

found us out / Fermín López

Summary: Fermín x Sainz!girlfriend!singer!reader - Things don't blow over well with Carlo Sainz when you're caught dating a Barcelona player.

Warnings: censored cussing, a little bit of Spanish, reader being a singer isn't really important at all- i just made it a fact in order for things to tie in together and made more sense, mention of nausea, this ended up being pretty long

Requested?: Yes.

Author's Note: Boy, what a crossover! As I was reading this request I literally started giggling in excitement to write this because I knew how fun this would be. I think it's clear that this has to be the sister of Carlos, though. Always good when there's a little bit of drama.

You exhale, fiddling with your fingers under the table as you listen to your father and your brother discuss plans.

You wish that exhaling would release not only the carbon dioxide from your body, but also all the unnecessary stress building up in your chest.

The plans they're discussing are for a small party. Of course, it's a little party that you're expected to go to. It is an entire family event. Or so you've heard...

On the surface, having a family gathering surrounded around Real Madrid playing a literal fourth-tier team (Arandina) in the Copa del Rey sounds really lame. And secretly, you do think it's really lame. But the point is looking forward to watching them slaughter the underdogs. Which is fair enough.

Suddenly you interrupt: "Isn't El Derbi next week? Wouldn't that be better for a family get together?" You're sure they've already thought of that, but if there's any possible way you could get out of this, you'd love to find it.

"Haven't you been listening?" your father questions. "Carlos has plans already. He needs to leave Monday morning, and won't be back until Friday. That won't work."

You clench your jaw. No, you weren't listening, because you were stressing out about your plans for that weekend.

You figure if you're going to tell your brother and father, right now is just as good a time as any other time. You sigh and say, "Well, I'm busy on Sunday, actually..."

Both pairs of brown eyes snap to you, and Carlos says, "What do you have going on? And the Madrid game is on Saturday, anyway- shouldn't it be fine?"

Really, why shouldn't it be fine? What lie will you come up with? Because you can't really say what you're busy with on that day. You manage out, "Some friends... we planned weeks ago to go out that day. Have some fun, you know... Sorry. I guess... Would it be fine if... Surely I wouldn't be missed...? The, uh, thing he have planned is... for Sunday night...."

Carlos sighs, leaning back. "Come on, Y/n. You can't cancel? Family over friends, right?"

But you shake your head as you finish your meal. You stand up with your plate, knowing that if you stay any longer, you'll be guilt tripped into doing what they want you to do, despite what you want to do. So you say, "What's done is done. You can still have the party without me." And you walk out of the room.

Hours later, you're laying in bed. You should be sleeping, but instead you're staring up at the ceiling and thinking.

'Family over friends, right?'- Carlos' words from earlier play through your head in the exact tone he had said it. Yeah, family over friends, Carlos. You've been seeing him and the rest of your family on and off frequently for the past month. But the one you really want to see? You haven't seen him in over a month, and you miss him, dearly. You just want to be able to see him. To surprise him.

And you know he misses you, too, by the constant text messages he sends you.

And, with perfect timing, your phone buzzes on your bedside stand next to you. You pick it up right away and smile to yourself when you see it's him. Telling you he can't sleep. Asking if you want to face time.

You don't even respond, and just call him first.

A smile immediately sneaks up on you when you see your boyfriend. His golden brown hair is all messed up, as he's leaning on a soft pillow, and he has a blanket pulled up all the way to his chin. His brown eyes look even deeper in the dim lighting, but they light up when they view you across the phone. "¡Hola, mi corazón!"

Immediately you feel butterflies fly up in your stomach at his little pet name. "Hey, Fermín," you say, much more casually. "How are you doing?"

He shrugs, and his eyes flutter down a little. "I can't sleep... I wanted to hear your pretty voice. And see your pretty face."

You smile softly, but ask in concern, "Why can't you sleep?"

But a cute little grin appears in his face, and he laughs a little. "Because I'm thinking about you."

"Oh!" you chuckle. "I see..."

You continue chatting together softly for who knows how long. But this is what you do. One of you calls and you can't help but just chat for minutes or hours or however long.

You just love the sounds of each other's voices and the sparkle in each other's eyes.

Saturday evening, just as family member are starting to arrive at the house, you walk to the door, pulling your hair into a ponytail, about to walk out. Your brother stops you, saying, "So you are really going?"

You turn, meeting his eyes as you grab your black long coat. "Yeah, I am. I'm sorry, Carlos..." you add when you see the disappointment in his big brown eyes.

He shrugs, and says what he always does: "Alright. Well, just be careful. And have fun. When will you be back?"

You hesitate. This is the very question you didn't want him to ask. "Uh... Probably Monday morning... I'll text you, though."

His eyebrows knit together even further. "Monday morning? I thought you were just having a night with your friends."

"One of them suggested we could stay at her house and spend the following day doing something else," you lie, nearly effortlessly now."

"Why not just come home?"

You sigh at the question. The truth is, you booked a hotel so you could catch Fermín as soon as possible in the morning and spend more time with him, since you'll have to get to Madrid right away again afterwards. You just want to get going. But you know Carlos only asks questions because he cares. Being nine years older than you, he's always been very protective of you. Too protective. But you know it's just because he cares.

He just cares too much, and it makes you angry. It's hard to keep secrets from his honest eyes.

"Because I was invited to hang out more and I haven't seen this friend in a while!" This one is only half a lie.

"Oh..." he slowly nods. "Well... where does this friend live, then? Far enough for you to just stay there, or... I mean, you haven't seen this friend in a while, so I'm assuming they don't live in Madrid?"

"Nothing- er, yeah, we, uh... she lives in, uh, Sigüenza! Yeah, Sigüenza! And, well, you know, she just moved there and there's uh, you know, it's Sigüenza! The cool stuff there, in... Sigüenza..." You've lost it. You're literally pulling sh*t out of thin air now.

And Carlos can tell. "You're lying. Where are you really going?"

"No, no! I am going there! My friend just moved there! There's castles and sh*t she thinks is cool and she wants to show me! And like go around like I think there's a restaurant she likes and... yeah! And then we'd probably just maybe go to a club for an hour or two or something tonight and then go back and hang out at her house!"

Carlos looks thoroughly unsure. "Is it good for you to go to a club...? Be careful..."

"Oh, come on!" You're speaking too quickly. "There'll be a few of us, and we're not stupid! You know that, Carlos! Don't worry about it, we'll be fine! I'm an adult, for God's sake!"

"Well..." he murmurs, "I hope you're not lying to me. I hope you wouldn't do that."

You swallow, but nod, and feel terrible as you say, "Of course I wouldn't. Why would I lie about something like this?"

"I can think of lots of reasons, but I won't get into it." Carlos says with that look of concern still in his eyes. "Well, be careful. I can see you're impatient to go, so I'll let you. Have fun. Te amo, Y/n."

"M-hm!" you say, and rush out the door. You didn't want to be leaving this late, but you figure you'll just have to hope you get there at a reasonable time.

Fermín nods as João (Félix) discussing the upcoming game with him, watching the Portguese man's eyes as he speaks his thoughts. So he catches it when João raises his eyes, looking over Fermín's shoulder.

You grin, bringing your finger to your lips as you walk down the hall towards the two, behind Fermín's back, making eye contact with João. João subtly nods, makes eye contact with Fermín and says, "Nothing. I was just seeing things."

You thoroughly appreciate João's playing along. And his good acting.

"Seeing things?" your sweet boyfriend asks his teammate. You reach Fermín just as he's turning around to look anyway. He he lets out a confused, "Uh- oh!?" noise when you pull him into a hug, before (pretty much) yelling, "Wait, Y/n?!"

You giggle, and nod your thanks to João, who's smiling and practically chuckling himself. He nods and gives a small wave, before turning to saunter away, a smile on his lips. "So, how's my Fermín?" you ask softly.

Your boyfriend hugs you so tight, it slightly hurts, but you don't complain. You're probably hugging him tighter. He's giggling, and starts showering your cheeks with kisses, before exclaiming softly, "Very good, now that you're here! But why are you here, huh? ¡Mi corazón!" He's so adorable about your little surprise arrival. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"So it could be a surprise! And so I could see you acting all cute and surprised like this!" You grin up at him, your hand on his chest.

"Stop that!" he laughs, touching his nose to yours, holding you close. But then he gets a little more serious. "How long of a drive was it? I'm assuming you were in Madrid?"

"Madrid to Barbastro? It wasn't so bad. I would drive any difference to get to you, though..."

This makes him chuckle and give you those soft little lovey-dovey eyes that you love to see. He strokes your hair as you rub his back a little, before murmuring, "You were staying with your brother? What did you tell him?"

You smile at this question. Fermín- he always thinks deeply about a situation- especially if it's involving you. He always worries and makes sure everything went well with you. He really cares. "Just told him I'm staying with a friend," you chuckle and add, "In Sigüenza!"

"Sigüenza? Have you ever even been there?" He smiles, clearly amused.

"Uh, maybe, like, once. Not sure if he completely believed me, but I got out of there. So that I could come here and see you! Figured a game like this would be better for me to come to. You know, maybe since it'll be such a small stadium, it'll be actually easier for me to just get in and hide in the crowd."

Fermín nods, gently stroking your cheek, looking into your eyes and says, "If you think so." He's just so focused on taking in your presence.

He leans in and kisses your cheek again, when (of course) Ferran Torres turns the corner, slaps Fermín on his back, and says in a teasing voice with a chuckle, "Got to get going, Fermín. Glad you're having a good time with your girlfriend, but-"

"Oh, Ferran!" you snap, pulling away from your boyfriend to glare at the older man. "Would you shut up?! We haven't seen each other in forever. But I guess you wouldn't get how it feels, since clearly you could never pull-"

"Hey, hey!" Fermín laughs, putting a hand on your shoulder. But he's grinning. He loves your spunk. "Leave the poor guy alone. He's right, corazón. I do have to get going now."

Ferran just waves as he walks off, giggling mischievously. You roll your eyes and turn back to Fermín. "So annoying." But you're grinning. You hug him a last time, peck his lips, and murmur, "I'll go to my seat now. I'm excited to watch you do great out there, mi chico guapo."

He grins and says as he starts to turn to walk the way Ferran walked a minute earlier, "You just watch. I'm going to go out there and score a goal. For you. Okay?"

You grin back and nod as you pull on your mask, hat, and sunglasses- hopefully enough to hide your face from cameras. "I'll be watching for it."

He nods, that lovely adorable little smile on his face, waves to you, blows a kiss, and walks away from you.

Adrenaline fills every cell of your body as the ball hits the back of the net. A goal. But not just any goal.

Your Fermín's goal!

Your muscles send you to your feet, and you cheer, clapping your hands together, watching your boyfriend. You're sitting in a seat very close to the pitch, and you know that if he wanted to, Fermín could come over and hug you right now. But he knows he can't. He understands and respects that you can't be being pointed out. It has to stay a secret.

So, instead, he eyes you, with all the joy in the world.

You grin back, nodding at him. You can't help but giggle.

After the game, you return to Fermín's arms immediately, as if there's a magnetic force between you and him. "Hola, mi prícipe azul," you mutter softly with a little chuckle, before squealing and saying, "You did so good! What a goal! You're amazing!"

"Stop..." he murmurs back, but is clearly loving your praise.

You smile and lean up, about to kiss him, when suddenly your phone starts buzzing and ringing in your back pocket. You hesitate, eyes locked with your boyfriend's, before sighing and leaning away. You slip your phone out of your pocket. "Oh..." you stare at the screen. "It's Carlos."

Fermín nods understandingly and leans away. "I'll keep quiet. I know you have to answer it."

You nod, sending him a grateful smile, before leaning against the wall and answering the phone with a bubbly, "¡Eh, Carlos! ¿Cómo te va?" You hope you don't sound so cheery that is sounds like you're faking it. Well, it's not like you're not happy. You are!

Carlos completely ignores your question, cutting right to the chase. "Where are you?"

"Uh...? I'm at my friend's house. In Sigüenza. Why?"

"Really?" Carlos asks slowly. "How far of a drive is it from Barbastro to Sigüenza? Because I doubt it's under fifteen minutes."

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, and you lean more heavily on the wall behind you as your knees start to shake. Fermín sees this and takes a step toward you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you prevent that with simply a shake of your head. You swallow and put on a confused voice as you respond to your brother, "Sorry...?"

"You heard me. Y/n, what the hell? Why the hell did you lie to me? Why the hell are you in Barbastro? Why the hell are you at a Barcelona game, instead of on the sofa next to me right now?"

"Listen-" you cough, nervousness pounding in your head. Your eyes sprout tears, but you wipe them. Fermín- bless his heart- puts a hand on your shoulder, and gives you the eyes that seem to say, Just say the word, and I'll stand up for you.

You give your boyfriend another quick nod before responding into the phone, lies coming to your brain naturally, on the spot, "Listen, Carlos. I'm sorry for not telling you. My friend in Sigüenza I guess is a fan, and she thought it'd be so fun for us to all go to the game together. So, you know, there wasn't much I could argue with when someone buys you a ticket to a football game. You... You know? I'm sorry for lying. I really am. I just didn't tell you because I knew you'd be upset. You know, about me going to FC Barcelona's game instead of staying home with my family and watching Real Madrid's the night before. I really am sorry, Carlos. I hope you'll... forgive me. But... How did you even know I was at the game... Carlos?" You swallow, waiting for the answer. Fermín takes your hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"The television showed you. Over and over. The commentators were pretty fascinated to see Y/n Sainz at a Barcelona game. Especially the one in Barbastro."

"Oh, f*ck that!" you snap. "My f*cking disguise didn't even work! Why don't they get their stupid cameras out of my life for once! Ugh!" you say angrily. Fermín gently rubs your shoulder, which is at least some ounce of comfort. "So, what? How did you see it, anyway? Have you just been caught red-handed watching a Barcelona game, too?"

"No. I was flipping channels, and there you were. But there's still something that's not making sense." Your eyebrows scrunch together as your grip on Fermín's hand tightens. Was there a hole in your lies that you missed...? Then Carlos asks, "Where were your friends?"

The lump in your throat grows larger. "What do you mean?"

"You were sitting next to some fat old man with a jersey from twenty years ago and a bunch of snotty kids on the other side-" Carlos has never been one to go out of his way to compliment anything associating with football club Barcelona. "-so where were your friend sitting, then?"

It feels as if all the muscles in your body flex at this one. Your mind goes blank, desperately searching for yet another lie to save yourself from telling your older brother the truth. It's like you've dug yourself in a hole that you're desperately trying to climb out of. It feels like you've nearly reached the top-

but your hand just slipped, plummeting you straight back down to the bottom, where you started.

And you break.

Tears stream down your face, and Fermín immediately tries to grab the phone from you, but you pull it away, swallowing as you blubber into the phone, "I don't know, Carlos... Okay... I don't know..."

There's a second or two of silence on the other end, before Carlos says, now in a more tender, less interrogating voice, "Y/n, all I asked is where your friend are. Is everything okay? Are you alright? Y/n, you're worrying me..."

"Please, Carlos... I'm fine... Just... Please..."

"Can you please just tell me the truth?"

"No..." you sniff, leaning into Fermín more and more. "I can't, because you'll be mad at me... It will ruin our relationship..." You don't know if you're talking about your relationship with Carlos or your relationship with Fermín.

"This is ruining our relationship! You keeping stuff from me! Y/n, you're my little sister! I don't want anything bad to happen to you! Just tell me what's wrong, and I can help!"

"You're the one making it all wrong. If you'd just leave me alone-"

"No. Y/n, you need to be honest with me right now, okay?"

"No, I don't. I don't, and I f*cking won't." At this, you hang up and fall into Fermín's arms.

He holds you there, close to his chest, before whispering, "I'm sorry..."

You look up slowly, sniffing, and wipe your eyes. It doesn't do much, since your tears are still coming. "For what?" you whisper. "You've done nothing wrong... It's just... Everything is messed up. Nothing went how I wanted it to... Fermín, I'm scared."

His eyes are tender, and he strokes your cheek. "My Y/n... I hate to see you cry. There's nothing to be scared of." He puts his arm around your back and starts leading you down the hall. "If Carlos finds out, Carlos finds out. He loves you, and you know that. I know you've spent all your energy hiding this, but mistakes happen, okay? I'll be by your side, but what's done is done." You nod, wiping up your soaked face with your hands, and let him lead you, until you get to the street. He sighs and murmurs, "F*ck. Missed the bus back to the hotel..."

"Oh..." a wave of guilt washes over you. "Fermín, I'm sorry... Isn't your team worried about you?"

"No, no. Don't worry about it. Either they completely missed my absence, or they got the memo that my girlfriend has just arrived and I might have other plans. Let's hope it's the second one, because that would be just a tad bit too silly if they just flat out forgot about me." There's a teasing tone in his voice, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Make you feel better. "You drove here? Where is your car?"

"Oh... yeah, right..." you sigh. After all the rush and emotions, you completely forgot you had your car here. You glance to Fermín, and catch in his expectant eyes a glint of excitement, too. You smile softly, understanding completely what this is from. You roll your eyes. "And no, Fermín. I didn't pull up in a Ferrari. That would draw too much attention." You can't blame him for being excited. You have driven a Ferrari before, (and many other super sick vehicles) and you know Fermín would love to go for a spin in one (or another of the insane sports cars you've driven.)

Fermín thinks they're cool, and as the daughter of Carlos Sainz Sr. and the sister of Carlos Sainz Jr., you tend to be able to get your hands on some pretty luxurious cars, it just so happens. And it's not like your family (especially your brother) won't jump at the drop of a hat to lend you something like that. You're Carlos's baby sister, and he'd do anything to treat you. So when you take advantage of that, every so often Fermín gets to go for a ride.

And you suppose Carlos has no idea of that.

Yet.

And just like that, you feel nauseous again.

When you arrive at Fermín's hotel room, you immediately both put on pajamas and get into bed. All night, he holds you close, never letting go. You lean your head against his chest, basking in the comfort. He knows it's hard. He understands what you're going through.

"Te amo," he whispers, just as you're drifting off to sleep. You never get a chance to say it back, because you're asleep before you can.

"I'm coming back to Barcelona with you."

"Lo siento, ¿qué?" Fermín asks, his head whipping up from tying the drawstrings of his sweatpants as he exits the hotel bathroom. His light pink lips are slightly parted as he stares at you, eyebrows raised.

"You heard me. I'm coming back to Barcelona with you," you repeat, locking eyes with him.

Fermín crosses the room and slips onto the hotel bed next to you, gently placing his hand on your thigh. "Mi corazón..." he mutters. "Of course I would never complain- I would love it if you came back to Barcelona with me. But don't you think that's not the best idea? Don't you have things to deal with back home in Madrid?"

You hesitate and mutter. "Sure I do. But I'd rather come with you back to Barcelona."

He frowns, nodding. "When are you going to go back to Madrid? And what will you tell your brother?"

Suddenly you snap, slipping out of bed, "I don't care, Fermín! And I don't plan to tell my brother anything! I know he'll call, but he can't make me pick up. I'm sick of him pretending like he's in charge of my life!"

"Y/n, come on. We both know he just cares about you. You know how worried sick he'll be if you randomly cut off communications and don't even tell him what happened to you. You can't do that to him. I know if my sibling did that to me, I'd be worried sick, too, and you and Carlos are very close. And he's much older than you. You know how he thinks of you. You can't do that to your brother," he tries, looking for eye contact. But you continue looking down.

"Fermín, no." You speak quietly, but firmly. "I won't. I'm scared, and I don't want to deal with him right now. And I know you said you'd be by my side, but I know you can't be. You can't possibly come to Madrid with me, and then get back to Barcelona."

Fermín sighs, and takes your chin, forcing you to look him in his eyes. "I understand you want to avoid your brother, but you can't have him worrying like that. It's just not right. He's only so concerned and protective because he cares, Y/n."

Your jaw clenches. You try to look away, but he doesn't let you. You swallow, looking at him, and murmur, realizing there's not much you can do, "Alright. Can we compromise?"

Fermín looks a little surprised at your sudden giving in, but nods. "Maybe. What are you thinking?"

You sigh. "I come back to Barcelona with you, but I still text Carlos. But I tell him I won't call, and if he wants to talk to me, he has to come to Barcelona himself and do it."

Fermín's immediate reaction is to protest with, "You expect him to drive from Madrid to Barcelona? You know how long of a trip that is!"

"Well, too bad, Fermín!" you snap. "It's what I'm willing to do! If he cares enough, he'll drive up. And trust me- he does."

Your boyfriend frowns, considering this, and finally nods. "Okay, then... I guess it's fair enough." And that's that.

You sit between Fermín's legs on the couch, watching the television as you munch on buttered popcorn and Fermín plays with/braids your hair. It's been three weeks since when Barcelona faced off with Barbastro, and since then all you've communicated with your brother is that if he wants to discuss anything with you, he's got to come to Barcelona and do it himself.

Do you miss your older brother? Yes. Yes, you one hundred percent do. Are you scared of your brother's attitude and reaction? Yes. Yes, you one hundred percent are.

As Fermín leans close, now stroking your arm with one hand, your phone buzzes in your lap. You give the bowl of popcorn to your boyfriend and pick up your phone.

You stare in shock at what you read on your phone. Fermín leans over and reads the text from Carlos along with you:

Carlos: I just arrived in Barcelona. I'm hoping we can meet somewhere in the morning, if you're not busy? I've been worrying lots

Fermín's hand gently moves to your waist, and after a few seconds, he whispers, "What will you do, my Y/n?"

"I don't know..." you sigh in hesitation.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

You look up at him from behind, meeting his eyes. You can't help but giggle at each other. He sighs, before turning serious again and saying, "Just send him my address and tell him to be around at 9:00 A.M."

"Fermín!" you snap, as though he's a complete lunatic. "You think we can just do it, just like that?!"

"Sure," he nods, cool headed. "I'm not scared of him, just because he drives cars fast and he's got big muscles. I run fast and... have slightly less big muscles than him." He grins, and you can't help but smile, too, at this. Fermín has a way of making serious things light-hearted. "Anyway, if you do it this way, I'll be there with you. Maybe it'd be easier to show him rather than tell. And I'll do the talking that you're still nervous to do. I will." He looks at you with sincere eyes.

You stare ahead, considering this for a while as Fermín slowly and absentmindedly rubs your thigh. Finally you sigh and mutter, "I guess that's the best thing... It's a shame it has come to this."

Fermín laughs softly, shaking his head, but you don't mind it. "You knew that at some point it would come to this. Y/n, you know this will be fine. It will be. I promise. Your brother loves you too much to do any of the stupid things you're scared of happening."

You frown, but then turn around hug him tightly. "Okay... Fermín." You look him in the eyes. "Okay. I know. It's still nerve-racking, though."

"I know, I know," he responds.

You sigh, take out your phone, and, despite yourself, text him.

Fermín gives your upper thigh a little pat.

You look up and study his handsome, lovely face for a few seconds, before kissing him all over. He lets you, chuckling a little. He always seems to laugh when you show him lots of affection, and you love it.

And before long, the two of you are fast asleep there.

When the doorbell rings at 9:01 A.M., your heart drops to your stomach. You knew it would happen. You prepared yourself. But you still can't help but shiver with nervous.

Fermín is trying making breakfast, and you're sitting at the island in the kitchen. He looks up from the food and is about to speak, but you say before he can, in a hurried tone, "I'll get it. You just stay here and keep making breakfast."

He hesitates for a moment, but then nods. "Alright... Call if you need me. And he's welcome to come in, too."

You nod and then head to the door. You exhale slowly, before opening the door.

Immediately, you're wrapped in a huge bear hug from your strong older brother, and he snaps, "What the hell? Why have you been avoiding me like this?! Are you embarrassed? It's fine! I've thought about it, and if you're dating a Barcelona fan that's fine... As long as he's a good guy, it shouldn't matter that much, right?"

You blink in surprise, leaning back, away from him, and meet his eyes, which are very similar to your own in shape and color. He's not stupid. Clearly he's tried to figure it out. But the concept of me dating an actual player for the club is so ridiculous, he just expects it's some random culer dude? Just this concept makes your heart (which was already in your stomach) seem to fall down to your knees. You swallow and awkwardly smile. If you could speak, you would, but no words whatsoever come to mind, and your mouth feels much too dry to form any words.

"So... I'm assuming this is his flat? Is he here? Can I meet him? What's his name?"

You allow yourself to breathe a little, and swallow. "Yes, this is his flat... And he's here... In the kitchen... You- You can meet him..." You open the door wide for him, and have to try a few times, before your voice finally allows you to call, "Fer- Fermín!"

"Fer...mín? That's his name?" your older brother asks. You nod slowly meeting his eyes again. You can't imagine that Carlos would know who Fermín is... right? It's not like a gives really any of his attention to any football club other than Real Madrid... Perhaps just the name sounds familiar? Well, it's not like Fermín has a super uncommon name or anything...

Your head is starting to hurt from all this overthinking. You swallow. "Yeah, yeah... That's his name."

You watch with dread (which you never though you'd feel at the sight of him) as your boyfriend enters the room. He has a smile on his face, but he's eyebrows are knitted together.

For a moment, the two stand there.

It's strange, for you. Here are (probably) the two people you care about most. The two people you spend the most time with, the two's whose opinions you value the most. Here they are, together. Two who you care about so much, but have always been separate. And you've always kept it that way.

It feels off, to have the two in the same room, right here, in front of you.

Their heights don't differ much, but Fermín's younger, gentler features contrast with Carlos. Fermín has lighter, nicer kept hair, while your brother of course has the same shock of dark hair you have, and right now, it's grown out a bit, curling at his ears.

You stare at the two.

You swallow as something like very vague recognition is reflected on Carlos's face. He says slowly, holding his hand out to shake Fermín's, "Hola... Have we met before...?"

You can't help but shake your head a little. Carlos, not recognizing a first team Barcelona player when he's right in front of him.

Or, pretty much first team, anyway.

A (cute) little nervous crooked smile appears on your boyfriend's face. He sends you a brief little glance with only those chocolate brown eyes, before looking back to Carlos. He shakes his hand as he swallows and says, "Well, you know, I... uh, I actually play for FC Barcelona."

Carlos opens his mouth, shuts it, and opens it again. "Okay..." he says slowly. "That... It makes sense, now... that Y/n was at the game in Barbastro..." he seems to be talking more to himself. He glances to you, and his eyes linger, before shifting back to Fermín and saying, "Fermín... Fermín Gómez...?"

That crooked little smile appears on Fermín's face again. "López."

You watch as your older brother nods, and then looks to you slowly. "Y/n, can I...?" he trails off, glancing to Fermín.

Fermín seems to get the hint that you didn't even pick up and nods, saying, "I'll go finish making breakfast. Carlos and Y/n, you're welcome to just stay here in the living room." He gives a cute little awkward smile, and walks out of the room.

Now you don't want him to go.

But your brother gently takes your wrist and tows you to the couch, forcing your eyes to wander from the doorway that Fermín just left through. You look to Carlos and swallow. Those eyes. So incredibly earnest. "You're not... mad?" you murmur softly.

"Mad? I'm disappointed you hid it from me, and didn't trust me. A part of me doesn't feel right about you dating a Barcelona player, but it's not like the club someone is playing for decides how good of a boyfriend he is, or if he's meant to be with my sister or not. I'm shocked- I was expecting it's a Barcelona fan, not a player. But whatever..." He trails off, swallows, and finishes, "No. No, I'm not mad."

"Oh... Oh, okay... I'm... I'm sorry."

He nods, not looking at you. "I forgive you. I'm sorry, too. There had to have been a reason why you didn't trust me. So I'm sorry."

You say, "I forgive you," though you're not even one hundred percent sure what you're forgiving him for.

If you thought introducing just your older brother to Fermín was just terrible, introducing him to your whole family is like actual hell.

Fermín keeps his arms tightly around your shoulders as you sit on your couch. You feel stiff and rigid as Fermín manages the awkward questions and empty small talk. Your family is always so open, but with Carlos insisting everyone meet Fermín here, it's unnatural.

Why don't they accept him? They accept other people's friends, girlfriends, etc., much easier. Fermín is acting so sweet and polite.. like he always does... What don't they like about him?

Unlike Carlos, do they really care that much about stupid football club rivalries? Gosh, there are plenty of fans of different clubs who get on just fine.

How is Fermín being a player any different?

He's a culer, just like any fan, right? I mean, I don't know what I am. Am I a culer?

Who cares? I'm Fermín López's girlfriend and Carlos Sainz Sr.'s daughter. Think that's enough for one person!

Suddenly you're pulled out of your racing mind when Fermín's hand settles on your waist and he says, "...right, Y/n?"

"Uh, huh?" you ask, looking at Fermín just as he pecks your lips with a little laugh. You blush and murmur, "Gosh, Fermín, not here."

But he pulls you tighter to his side and says with a soft, slightly defiant little smirk, "I'm so happy that you all have accepted me as Y/n's boyfriend, Sainz family." The faces of your family members span from confused to uncomfortable to (only a few of them) genuinely accepting. But Fermín adds with a chuckle, kissing your cheek, "Although, of course, your opinions, or anyone's, about our relationship doesn't matter to me." He meets your eyes with those deep brown ones.

You swallow and nod, getting up the courage in that moment to respond with, "Yeah, Fermín... You know, I think I agree with you..."

[dilfl0v3rss]

cleaning day

summary: cleaning day with connie

cw: fluff

word count: 1.6k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

you loved saturday’s. it was connie’s day off and you had the whole day to get things done around the house. right now you were in the kitchen washing the dishes that were used to make breakfast. the smell of weed and cleaning products dancing in the air as you dried your hands off to go wake up your sleeping man for breakfast. connie was knocked out in the bed, laying wildly on his back in nothing but boxers and his gold chains sprawled out on his chest. he looked so peaceful, but today you were going to put him to work. you lightly tap his inked chest, blunt sitting between your lips as you watching him stir awake. “get up nigga, and hurry and eat your breakfast because you helping today.”

you balanced the blunt in your mouth as you spoke. standing with one hand on your hip while the other held onto a broomstick. connie stared you up and down. you looked so sexy when you were bossy. booty shorts squeezing your ass while your breasts peeked out the bottom of your loose crop top. your pretty pink scarf wrapped around your long knotless braids. the sight of you made his junior twitch in his underwear. “hellooo. boy i know you hear me. wake that ass up.” before you can tap him again, connie lightly smacks your hand away.

“i’m up mami damnnn.” his voice was so deep in the morning, making you contemplate whether you should continue cleaning or just say “fuck it” and spend the day in bed with him, but you quickly came back to reality. you already did that last saturday and you refused to let it happen twice in a row. plus, you hated cleaning on sundays. sundays were supposed to be days for you and connie to relax before having to go back to work on monday, and you fully intended on spending the entire day binge watching criminal minds with him.

“go eat” was all you said as you turned around to start sweeping the kitchen. before you got too far, connie gave your ass a hard tap, eyes practically glued to the sight of it jiggling from the contact. “and good morning to you too sexy”. you feigned indifference as you left the room, but your stomach was really doing flips. connie was just as sexy as can be at all times of the day.

by the time you finished sweeping the kitchen, connie was finishing up the rest of his plate, still in just his boxers as he puts it in the sink. “ima wash it later” he says quickly before you can complain. he knew you like the back of his hand. “aight well since i’m done sweeping you can mop this floor” connie nodded to your demand, walking towards the cabinet to grab some cleaning supplies before walking to the closet to get the mop. “unt uhh what you using to clean the floor?”

connie looked at you with a confused face, feeling that you should already know his product of choice. “you know i only use fabuloso mami.” he replied, holding up the container full of purple liquid with a smile. every time connie mopped an area, he used wayyyy to much product. a simply bottle of fabuloso should last at least a week and a half before you have to start watering it down, but when connie gets to it he can use up to half the bottle in a day.

the smell reminded him of when he was younger. the sound of old merengue music softly waking him. before long, his mom would bust into the door, fussing at him over how dirty his room was. she’d eventually have him get up to help her clean around the house. the smell of lavender fabuloso wafting into his nose as he would clean basically every part of the house with it until the end of the day. “ven aquí, chico loco. ayuda a mamá a hacer la cena.” his mom would say, apron on as she lightly shoved the wooden spoon towards him. “vale mamá”.

“don’t use too much baby. you be using damn near the whole bottle on just the kitchen” your voice coaxed connie out of his thoughts. “vale, mami” he mindlessly says before shooing you away. “i-i know i’m doin’ baby. and gimme my slides” he says, staring down at your small feet fitting loosely in his huge slides.

you raise an brow at his words before kick them off your feet towards him, waking to your room to get your slippers. as you slide your feet into your much better fitting slippers, you hear the music in the living room change, your 90s r&b being switched out for some of connie’s favorites. you were going to protest until you hear the familiar lyrics of one of connie’s favorite songs booming through the speakers. ashing your blunt, you made your way to the source of the music.

la vaca by mala fe played loudly in the living room as you listened to connie say the begining lines word for word. “ yo que estaba durmiendo en mi sabrosa cama. y me llaman para este tremendo tema, ah, ja, ja. c’mere mami dance wit me” connie only really loved this song because when you first met him you bragged about knowing a lot of spanish music.

you were embarrassed to say the least when the only two found in your playlist were suavemente and la vaca. connie didn’t judge though, singing both of them word for word in front of you to show that he knew them as well. he eventually taught you a bunch of songs he knew to widen your horizon. you smiled as you quickly made your way to him, holding each of his hands in yours as the two of you moved around quickly to the song. loud giggles can be heard as you watched connie get more into the song.

“pero ven acá tú, ¿y cuál es tu plan? ¡ay señorita! ven para-” he was so cute, but the two of you had a lot to do today. “okayyyy papa let’s get back to work” you cut him off. the need to get everything done today overpowering your yearning for some fun. “we can dance tomorrow if we get this done now.” connie frowned at your statement, not wanting to stop just yet, and before it ended, he quickly let go of you to add a song to the top of the queue. “un momento, mami…un momento…” connie mumbled his echo as you rolled your eyes, quietly waiting until you heard another familiar song begin to play.

you made a confused face as you begin to question your boyfriends choice. “you wanna clean to this? it’s softer than what we usually listen to.” connie takes your hand in his, placing his other palm in the middle of your back. obsesión by aventura playing softly around the house as he spoke. “we clean later. we bachata now.” he whispered calmly, the corner of his mouth slightly lifting as you looked up at him. you started smiling ear to ear as he moved your body to the music. this song always reminded you of your first date with connie.

he was driving you home, hand tangled in yours as the song quietly played through his speakers. you had no idea what was being said, but you liked it. you watched as connie sang along to the lyrics, much deeper voice portraying his own version of the song in a different pitch. he was so handsome. connie noticed you tapping your fingers to the beat on your thigh as he pulled into your driveway, instantly coming up with an idea for you to enjoy the song in a deeper sense.

“thanks for tonight, i had a great time boo.”you smiled before trying to leave the car, but before you can open the door, you were haulted by his hand squeezing yours. “of course hermosa…but it’s not over yet.” you watched connie exit the car, making his way to your side before eventually opening your door for you. “come on out mami. i wanna show you sum.” you take his outstretched hand as you exit the car as well.

“boy what you about to do?” connie shushes you before reaching into the car to turn the song up louder. “you dance?” before you could reply, you found your hand already in his with another strong hand in the middle of your back. “i-i don’t know how.” you panic, but you’re quickly soothed by connie lips on your forehead. “don’t worry i’ll teach you. just follow me.”

the two of you ended up dancing with the song on replay for about an hour, getting the hang of it within the first twenty minutes or so. before he let you go, connie made sure to walk you to your door, planting a light kiss on your lips. he looked into your eyes one more time. “ima see you friday, yea?” you look away, getting shy from the kiss. “mhm friday.” you haven’t forgotten the song since that day. labeling it as the song that started it all for the two of you.

“cmon hermosa just one dance.” connie whispered, gently pulling you from your thoughts. instead of fighting with him, you let the music take you as you looked into his eyes. muscle memory kicking in as you repeated the same steps he taught you that night. you knew the two of you weren’t going to finish cleaning today, but you didn’t care. feeling glad to dance the rest of the day away with the man you love. plus, there was always sunday.

[roosterforme]

How Do You Feel About the Parking Lot? (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, fluff

You were excited at first. Very excited. You showed off your ring to everyone and gushed over the fact that you were engaged. And while you were still wearing his mom's engagement ring, it was becoming obvious to Bradley that things were not quite as they should be.

"Hey," he said softly as he walked into the kitchen. It was exactly nine weeks ago that he'd proposed in the dining room and you'd happily accepted that ring that glittered on your finger right now. But tonight you just mumbled something at him without looking up from your computer where you sat at the island. It was nearly midnight on Friday, and he would have given anything for you to start planning this wedding with him. "Are you coming to bed soon? I thought we could talk about potential wedding dates."

"Oh," you replied without looking up at him. "I'm still putting this presentation together."

Bradley sighed. "Baby Girl, you've been working nonstop for weeks. I just want... a little bit of your time." He wanted a lot of things, actually. Like a long snuggle on the couch while you and he watched a movie, or a soak in the tub together. He'd love a blowjob or pinning your hands above your head while he slammed you into the bed. But mostly he'd love to plan his wedding to you, because more than anything, he wanted to get married this year. And it was already late September. 

You glanced up at him and adjusted your glasses. "How about tomorrow? I really need to get this done before my work trip."

"Sure," he whispered before pecking you on the cheek and heading off to climb into bed alone. 

But it only got worse from there. You worked all weekend. On Monday, you didn't come home until seven o'clock. Tuesday was eight o'clock. By Wednesday, he wasn't sure if you were even eating or sleeping any longer. And worse yet, you were leaving for Annapolis in a few days. Bradley wouldn't even see you for a week. Not that he really saw you now, he supposed. 

He ate a bowl of cereal for dinner before sinking down onto the couch with Tramp and a bottle of scotch. He turned on Real Housewives, but he wasn't really watching it. He took a sip, and it burned. But the next one didn't. And neither did the one after that. He started to feel better. But he'd stop when you got home. 

Another episode started, but it still wasn't holding his attention the way you would have, and that's when he realized it was once again seven o'clock, and you still weren't home. When his phone rang, he sloshed some of the alcohol onto his tee shirt reaching for it, and he was praying it was you calling to tell him you were on your way home. 

He pressed his lips together and then took a deep breath before he answered. "Hi, mom."

"Bradley! I haven't heard from the two of you in days! How's your lovely fiancée? And Tramp?"

The dog must have heard her voice through the phone, because he perked right up. But Bradley couldn't answer with anything other than a raspy, "Fine." 

The line went silent. "Are you sick? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, mom," he lied. "How are you? How's dad?"

"Well, I went to lunch with Brenda, and I got the scoop on all of her kids. And your dad needs hearing aids, but he keeps arguing with me about it. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, if he can even hear you."

"Okay," he replied, realizing the room had started spinning when he leaned back against the couch.

"Bradley, are you drunk?"

How could she possibly tell? His own wife-to-be couldn't seem to see what was going on, but Carole could tell by his voice from almost three thousand miles away. "I'm... fine, mom. I need to take Tramp for a walk. I love you and dad. Bye."

Then he ended the call, because he could feel tears in his eyes. And when you got home at nine, he was already asleep. 

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

You needed to go to happy hour with your boss and coworkers on Friday, but you really didn't want to. You'd been pulling twelve hour days, and you were so exhausted, you just wanted to climb into bed with Bradley and sleep until you left for Maryland on a Saturday night red eye flight. You also really needed to tell him that he had to lay off the wedding planning until you finished this work project. It was just a few months of all these extra hours, and you desperately wanted to be promoted. 

Your plan was to stop home quickly and change out of your uniform before heading back out with everyone to celebrate that fact that you were going to present your research at the Naval Academy. When you pulled into the driveway in your shitty, little red car, the Bronco was already there. But when you looked around the house for Bradley, you didn't immediately see him. But then you heard his voice through the open sliding glass door. He was sitting on the back patio in just his gym shorts with his back to the door and a half empty bottle of scotch set on his knee. 

His voice sounded miserable as he said, "I tried, mom. She just... doesn't seem to want to. I don't know what I did wrong." 

You froze in place. He had to be talking about you. Embarrassment and sadness filled you as you listened to what he said next. 

"I really wanted to get married this year."

You ran down the hallway to the bedroom as you fought off your tears. You had to get changed and go right now while you still could. In another week, you'd have a little more time to talk to him about the fact that you couldn't plan a wedding and get married in the next three months with your current schedule. 

You left the house again without talking to him, but he was still sitting on the patio on the phone. And when he dropped you off at the airport the following evening, he didn't seem to want to let you go as he whispered, "I love you, Sweetheart," and ran his thumb along your ring. 

"I love you too, Roo. I'll be home in a week, and then we can talk about maybe planning a wedding for next year?"

He swallowed hard and nodded. "If that's what you want."

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

When you landed in Maryland on Sunday morning, you were still exhausted and looking forward to crashing until your presentation on Monday. But Carole called you when you were at the baggage claim, and you knew you had to answer. A guilty feeling was about to eat you alive as you put on a bubbly voice and said, "Hi!"

"Have you arrived in Annapolis?" she asked straightaway, and you sighed because at least she didn't sound angry with you. 

"I did," you told her softly. "Still at the airport."

"Perfect," she replied. "I'll leave now, and I'll be there in less than fours hours, and we can go get lunch."

You were so stunned, you watched your bag go past without realizing you needed to pick it up. "You're going to drive up from Virginia?" you asked her slowly.

"Yes. I'm grabbing my keys right now. Bye, Goose! I'll be back later!" You listened to her call out to her husband, and then a few seconds later, you heard a door close and a car start. She was actually going to drive up here.

"Oh, okay," you muttered, pressing your lips together, embarrassed about where you'd left things with her son. "I'll... see you in a few hours."

You managed to take a short, restless nap while you waited for Carole to arrive. You changed into a simple dress and put on some makeup, but you didn't really feel any better until you met her at a restaurant in the city. She rushed down the sidewalk toward you with a bright smile on her face. "My sweet girl!" she called out, wrapping you up in a hug next to a few tables full of people enjoying their lunch outside. "It's been too long." She kissed your cheek and started to lead you inside. 

"Thanks for driving all the way up here," you told her, not bothering to fight the smile tugging your lips. She was absolute sunshine, and it was pointless to try to resist it. "You didn't have to do this."

"Nonsense," she said as the two of you made your way to a booth. "I wanted to see my future daughter-in-law."

You nodded and enjoyed some pleasant conversation. She told you all about Goose's appointment with an audiologist and about Brenda's kids. And after you finished your avocado toast and bowl of soup, she said, "Now, I think we should talk about what's really important."

Her voice wasn't unkind, and she was still smiling softly, but you knew what was coming as you whispered, "Okay."

Carole reached across the table and took your hand gently in hers. "I know you're smart and independent. And I also know that's part of why Bradley loves you so much. You don't need him. He's not offering you anything you can't get on your own or with someone else. You chose him, because you want him." Tears started to fill your eyes, and you had to swallow against the lump in your throat. "And he just wants you to be happy, so he would never tell you to your face that you're hurting him."

You tried to speak, but you just made a pathetic sound and started to sob. "I don't want to hurt him."

"I know you don't," she replied softly, squeezing your hand. "I know you're not trying to. But I think you need to tell him once and for all that you don't want to get married this year so he can finally get used to the idea of waiting a bit."

You buried your face in your free hand. Why were you trying to push it off anyway? It's not like you really cared where you got married or what the two of you were wearing. Planning some sort of huge celebration was not something you wanted to spend your time doing. You wanted to be with Bradley exactly as you were right now, just with two more rings and a certificate involved. 

When you looked up at Carole, you whispered, "I don't really think I actually want to wait. And I don't want you to hate me either."

"No," she gasped, standing and coming to sit next to your on your side of the booth. She kissed your tear streaked cheek and whispered, "I could never, my sweet darling girl. I think you just need to talk to Bradley, okay? Can you promise me you'll give him a few hours of your full attention? And maybe let him know how much he still means to you?"

"Yes," you croaked, and you let her hold you as you cried.

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

The week without you was kind of miserable. Bradley managed to dump the rest of the bottle of scotch at Carole's urging over the phone. And he did notice that she and Goose started calling with a bit more frequency which he didn't really mind. But the best part was that fact that you called him every night before you went to bed. 

Every time he answered your calls, his heart thundered in his chest. And as soon as he called you Sweetheart, he could practically hear you smiling through the phone. "I can't wait to pick you up on Friday," he said over and over. If he just felt like he mattered to you again, then he could wait until next year to get married. That was no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

But when he met you in baggage claim at San Diego International late on Friday night, he was so surprised, he could barely speak. You ran for him with a garment bag in your arms, but you let it fall to the floor when you reached him. "Roo," you moaned as soon as you were in his grasp. "I missed you so much." You kissed him deeply. "I just got off the phone with your mom again. And I didn't tell you before, but I went to see my friend Caleb a few days ago," you said as you smirked.

"The tattoo artist?" he asked as he kissed your cheek fifteen times. When you nodded he asked, "What's in the garment bag?"

"My wedding dress."

"Holy shit." He scooped it up off the floor and held it tight. "You bought a dress?" he asked, trying to hold you and the garment bag both to his chest at the same time.

"Yes," you told him matter-of-factly as you tugged him toward the exit while you kissed his lips. "How do you feel about getting married in the parking lot in two months?"

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

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

TKATB: More theories! Yay!

This most certainly will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).

WILL HAVE SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THROUGH DAYS 1 AND 2, I RECOMMEND FINISHING THEM FIRST.

Quite a lot of these may allude to the ones I posted a week(?) ago, but my brain has brained REALLY HARD (almost as hard as when I get when I see Geo) and I think I have more ideas/more specified ideas of what could happen.

- So, I am correct in assuming the fact that the Hallow's Ball is on Day 5 (because Day 1 is in fact Monday); now this might be a stretch, in fact, it probably is, but due to the fact the Higher Class paid a visit to the school, maybe some of them might show up? Or maybe the people who bullied Brittney (think the food fight route) try to publically humiliate her or something, because something tells me she's got a lot of enemies, and something pretty bad is gonna happen to her.

- Geo is mentioned to have been disqualified due to 'accidentally' shooting an arrow at another person and it cutting their hair. Jess mentions we'd have to go 'next year' to see him partake again, so I'm gonna guess this competition is an annual thing. Maybe (and I'm assuming this as well) Geo and Hyugo were part of the Higher Class (because their dad works with the city's Founder, so that's gotta be High Class if I've ever heard it), but they were moved down. Geo is seemingly using archery to try and get selected to return back to the Higher Class, but if so, why get purposefully disqualified over almost potentially killing someone? Maybe, someone *really* pissed him off, or maybe got him sent down for whatever reason (we know Geo has daddy issues so maybe his father treats him like shit because of it) and he's subtly trying to threaten them?

- Along with that, MC wonders why he didn't get arrested. Think about it, he's got money, a lot of it. Hyugo says how corrupt this city is, their father (I believe Geo is an illegitimate child, due to the mother cheating or smth idk) probably paid the cops to not give a shit.

- Hyugo also has a LOT of connections, is often MIA, and is in the student council, so he's got influence. (Maybe adding salt to Geo's wounds indirectly?) I have a feeling he goes MIA for his syndicate activities (he has access to sleeping pills); and maybe because he's part of the council and gets stupidly high ass grades, nobody questions it. Besides, he's probably got some sketchy operations going on to maintain it all.

- With Crowe asking about Marie Antoinette, I now feel that our 'responses' to whether she was a good or horrible person are things HE did. "She was ignorant, she raved while people were starving..." - MC to Crowe when choosing the 'She was a horrible person' choice. I'll ignore the latter part for now, because that was a normal thing for rich people to do at the time. But the ignorant part is interesting. Maybe the reason Crowe is so nice (and it's not a facade, according to Fantasia herself) is because he's trying to redeem himself? Sol, if you don't skip class and let him escort you, states: "Ichabod (Crowe's surname) it's always been you. I should have dealt with him years ago..." So, maybe, at some point, Crowe had a pristine relationship with his family, mother specifically, (he doesn't anymore) and the reasoning behind this is due to the fact he believed he was superior? Maybe he was even a bully at some point? Hell, maybe he even made fun of Sol, and Sol wants to obliterate him for it. He (Crowe) was making him (Sol), and now he is trying to steal his so(u)lmate?! How fucking dare he?!

- Brittney also states that she's astonished about how Deryl has almost no friends, so I think that's incredibly fascinating, because it's true. How does a bubbly, happy jock like him get ignored by so many? Maybe because he helped Brittney (along with Jess) when she was low?

- Again, about Brittney, I feel that that frat party 2 years ago shattered her reputation, her image, everything. I bet some damaging info got spread about her and it led to her 'mysteriously' leaving the cheerleading squad, becoming more isolated and essentially (I'm assuming this) getting moved down with Jess. (Check previous one for why I think Jess got moved down as well, but tldr is she lost her shit, maybe got physical and it got her and Brittney sent to the worse school together). - On Fantasia's twitter, there's a Day 3 nsfw image of Sol essentially standing in front of a mirror with blood everywhere (ill link the slideshow that i have of every image i found/liked), anyway it's the right one on slide 9; with the caption "All I see are flaws"....so maybe if you ignore him on Day 3 and hang out with Crowe, he'll start losing his shit? Maybe thinking he isn't good enough? - Also, in the Day 2 NSFW scene, there are some prominent burn marks on Sol's back...does he get abused to this day? Does he live alone and they're scars?????? Maybe that's what he meant when he says "I've been dealt worse" in relation to the bullying? He does have history with them after all.

So. That's basically it, brain will continue to brain. Until then, ciao. (and yes the Geo fanfic is coming dw) Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wb_biHRk6g1gKj0WZ5XVwEtKGjFRTapDYerlEyhYPGE/edit#slide=id.g2cffd4cd112_0_34

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XI)

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu today: a dinner with Sam and Frank… I’ll let you guess how well this will go… (I hope my choice for Andrew's pic for this chapter gives you a clue...)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2933

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hesitate to call

Lived to see you throwing Me aside. That fought Like nettled fish inside me. Saw you throbbing In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see That all that all flushed down The refuse. Done? It lives in me. You live in me. Malignant. Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

Andrew checked his appearance in the mirror for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He was nervous beyond reason, after all he was heading to a restaurant to see Sam. And after a long-term relationship, he shouldn’t have felt so troubled by it. But things were different now, things were… complicated, to say the least.

Still, he heaved a sigh, checked his appearance once more. He had let his hair loose, had put on contacts, was wearing a black shirt and some dark jeans. He looked tired, exhausted even. Work was a lot at the moment, he had a thousand things to do. He still struggled to sleep, was still tortured with thoughts and dreams of Sam, of her leaving, of her loving someone else.

November was ending, and with it, the remnants of Andrew’s and Sam’s plans. Plans…

A weekend in Kerry in September. Saimhan with friends. Now, Andrew should be packing. He should be choosing clothes, not for an evening in a restaurant, but for a weekend in Glasgow. A flight late at night leaving from Dublin, another one during the night between Sunday and Monday. And in between, a couple of days just for them, spent eating, visiting museums, seeing the sights, walking around the town. A night in a hotel, one she had chosen, spent on filling their hearts with love and their bodies with lust and desire.

He looked at his reflection again, stared right into his own hazel eyes. They were greener than usual, probably because wearing contacts made his eyes water. He would have been more comfortable with glasses, more relaxed as well, more himself, in a way.

He blinked tears away as a thought crossed his mind, a painful one he wished he could have kept at bay, but he didn’t have the strength for that. Beating himself up was a habit, since childhood. There were thoughts sometimes that formed in his mind that brought him pain, but he listened anyway. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were deafening. These days they were loud and clear.

He went to get his coat, grab his car keys, get ready to leave. He petted Elwood, told him to be a good boy, that he would soon be home. The thought followed him outside his home.

Being himself was never enough for Sam to love him.

Christ, Sam was so beautiful…

It was breaking his heart that they weren’t on a date. As he entered the restaurant, saw her sitting at a table waiting for him, Andrew was reminded of hundreds of evenings spent like this, going on a date in a restaurant, at the cinema, it didn’t even matter where. At the end, they didn’t go out much anymore. Sam always seemed to be too busy for that. At the time, Andrew thought it was only because of her job. Now, he wondered if maybe she had not already started to give up on them.

But he hadn’t. To this day, he hadn’t given up on them…

He kept on admiring her for a few more seconds, until the rest of the table was revealed to him, and the illusion waned. You were there too, facing Frank. The restaurant was posh, he felt a little uneasy in this atmosphere. He wouldn’t have chosen such a place for a date, but he had no doubt that Sam liked it.

He forced a smile as he approached, was greeted warmly by Frank, the first one who spotted him as he approached. You turned on your chair to greet him with a relieved smile, and his heart made a happy jump at the sight of you. He had an ally tonight, he wasn’t on his own…

“You’re late.”

He turned to Sam, his heart dropping again. Her tone was flat, emotionless, and he knew her enough to be aware that it was worse than annoyance. She was angry. He struggled to swallow.

“Yeah, sorry… Had some stuff to take care of before coming.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie. Or well, it wasn’t a lie, but the real reason was simply that Andrew was always late. To everything. He couldn’t do much about it; if left unattended, he simply lost track of time. The alarms he had set up had done little to help him tonight. He didn’t add anything, merely took a seat.

“Ha, no worries!” Frank reassured him, and Andrew could tell that he was nervous and willing to make Andrew feel welcome. As a result, Andrew was highly uncomfortable.

“The food looks… interesting,” you commented, trying to drag the conversation away from Andrew, and he was grateful for it.

“The oysters are particularly good!” Frank recommended.

You said nothing, but Andrew frowned.

You… hadn’t you told him once that you weren’t such a fan of seafood?

Indeed, when you chose what to eat, you didn’t follow Frank’s advice at all.

Conversation drifted towards work, and your respective lives. Catching up or getting to know each other.

And Andrew understood Frank’s appeal tonight, as he watched him lead the conversation. He was louder than Andrew ever was, bright, clearly extraverted, longing for people’s attention. He was funny, charming. And handsome, that too, Andrew couldn’t deny that either. His complete opposite. Average height, muscles that threatened the fabric of his sleeves while he passionately talked about his work and moved his hands around, blond with electric blue eyes.

So… that was what Sam longed for? What had made you fall for him?

Andrew tried not to think this way. There was nothing he could do about his physical appearance, his ridiculous height, his gangly stature… there was no need to torture himself over that. He could show that he took care of Sam though. That he paid attention to her. That he loved her…

Because Frank didn’t seem to care all that much. Andrew saw it as you talked about your work, about how nervous you were as you got ready to give your students their first test of the year. And if Andrew was intently listening, Frank was clearly uninterested. He drew the conversation away from your job as soon as he could, offering encouraging words, and quickly moving on. You smiled, but you weren’t fooled. Andrew saw it in the way your gaze saddened, in the way the excitement that had been glimmering there died out instantly. His heart ached at the sight. And when Frank spoke again, Andrew didn’t care.

“Will you set a limit for the length required for the essay?”

Frank grew quiet, frowned. You turned to Andrew, clearly surprised by his question.

“Erm… I haven’t decided yet. I usually don’t.”

“Once a student gave me a twenty-pages long essay…”

“Twenty pages?!”

“Yeah… she was thorough, for sure.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course. And now I set a limited word count.”

You chuckled, nodded.

“Maybe I should do that. What about your class about Yeats? Have you decided on a subject for an essay?”

“I’m still hesitating… I want to prepare one about Yeats’s involvement in the Irish Literary Revival… but I could choose one of his love poems about Maud Gonne too.”

You chuckled.

“Why do I feel like they’ll hear a lot about No Second Troy…”

“I love that poem.”

“Anyone who speaks of literature with you for more than ten minutes knows that,” you teased. “It’s a short poem to study, though.”

“Yeah… but that means they would really have to work on each line, instead of simply skipping whatever element they struggle with.”

“True.”

“I feel like it would be easier for them to work on the more political side of Yeats’s work during exam season. The material is easier, and we’ll go thoroughly through the most important aspects of these texts in class. So… I think I’ll ask them to work on love poems at home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You exchanged a smile. When Andrew looked up at Frank and Sam, they had stopped listening and were both eating their meal in silence. Sam was looking at something on her phone, a habit she had developed in the past couple of years.

She hadn’t asked him about his job. She hadn’t asked him if he wrote, how he felt, if he was suffering because of her. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear his answers. Perhaps she didn’t really care. Andrew was starting to have doubts. The more the evening was progressing, the more he realised that she didn’t seem to care. Sam and Andrew had spent years together, but she wasn’t listening as he spoke of his work, of the things he loved most on Earth.

Did she even care at all about him anymore? She used to listen to him talk about music and poetry for hours, back when they were students…

Or did she? She had never liked his own writing, but he thought she listened when he spoke of what he loved, still. She didn’t seem willing to make an effort these days… but then again, they weren’t together anymore. So, why would she?

“I’ve listened to your record, by the way!”

Andrew blinked, looked at you again.

“What?”

“Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. I’ve listened to it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Did you? Really?”

You nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

“Of course! I’m going to sound very basic, I think In a Sentimental Mood was my favourite… although I really loved My Little Brown Book too.”

His mouth broke into a bright grin.

“Grand! Like… that’s grand! I’m glad you liked it.”

Frank stared at you for a moment.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, trying to slither in the conversation.

“Andy recommended me some music! I have a whole list at this point,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow and making him chuckle and blush.

“It’s Jazz,” Andrew explained. “Some of the greatest, honestly.”

Sam heaved a sigh, still focused on her screen.

“Oh… nice,” Frank nodded, although he didn’t sound convincing at all.

“I really liked it a lot,” you went on. “I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe it, like… on a technical point of view, you know? But I liked it. It was very… like… drawing me in, in a way. There was tension, and then once I was trapped in the song, there was so much emotion there… And it’s unusual for me to be so focused when listening to instrumental music. I have a busy brain, I get distracted easily.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have a busy brain too… but that’s what Blues and Jazz do to me. They kind of… shush my brain. Make it go quiet.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You like music, then, Andy?”

Andrew looked at Frank again, wanted to correct him and ask to be called Andrew… but he didn’t want to seem rude. He didn’t like it, though, how he used his nickname.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Andy wanted to be a musician, back in the days,” Sam intervened, putting her phone down again.

“Really? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing, mostly… play guitar too.”

“But you didn’t make a career out of it? Not that it’s surprising, it’s a tough field to work in. Most people can’t make a living out of it. Like… there’s so much competition, so few who actually get to make it. It must be a tough life.”

“A few of his friends made it though, and he had the talent for it,” Sam went on. “But Andy is not one to compromise easily.”

Andrew stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged.

“You could have had a record deal, had you accepted to change a few things about your songs.”

Andrew huffed, he could barely believe his ears…

“There was never an opportunity for me to record my own songs, and you know that. I didn’t want to sing those… attempts at pop hits that felt soulless to me.”

“And you didn’t get a record deal.”

“I didn’t want that kind of deal. I wanted to record the songs I had written.”

She didn’t say a thing, but her thoughts were loud enough for Andrew to guess them.

And then you didn’t record any of those either.

“Why are you saying all that like you’re resenting me?” Andrew asked, and Sam shook her head.

“I don’t resent you, of course! It was your choice.”

“You do sound like it though…”

“I’m just pointing out that you’re not the kind of guy who compromises much.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and huffed again.

“You’re one to talk…” he mumbled.

Andrew spent his time compromising. Had he not compromised when he wanted to take a job in London and had settled for Dublin instead because she didn’t want to move there? When she refused to move in with him and asked for more time to find herself? When she chose most of their topics of conversations? When he barely talked about his work?

He let out a long exhale, took a bite of the overpriced fish he had ordered. He didn’t even like the food…

Sam spoke again, about some stupid tv reality she had been watching with Frank, and you listened even though you hadn’t seen it. Meanwhile, Andrew wanted to talk about music with you again. He wanted to ask you about Duke Ellington, he wanted to ask you what songs you liked, he wanted to listen to you ramble about how music made you feel. Your thoughts were always interesting, he could have talked with you for hours… and sometimes he did.

But he shook himself. He wanted Sam. He wanted to have Sam back, and nobody was perfect. There were some things in Sam that annoyed him or disappointed him or that he didn’t understand but at the end of the day she was Sam, and that was enough for him.

He was quieter throughout the rest of the evening, trying to do some damage control over the couple of tensed moments that had occurred during the night.

But then the conversation settled on the wedding itself, and things turned ill all over again…

“And we need to settle on a cake too! Christ, everything is complicated when you’re planning a wedding!” Sam laughed, while Andrew was tightly closing his fists under the table, until his nails drew crescent marks into his palms, while you looked away in a hurry.

“You know… I thought we could choose a strawberry cake,” Frank said. “It’s a classic, most people like those…”

“Sam is allergic to strawberries,” Andrew answered without thinking.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table.

“Oh… you didn’t tell me that, babe,” Frank told Sam, who frowned.

Clearly, she had told him before, but she said nothing.

“Well, we’ll choose something else!” Frank shrugged.

“What about your career, then?” you asked your ex, staring intensely at him.

“My career?”

“You… you used to say that you wanted to wait to get married because you needed to focus on your career.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“Yeah… that’s true. I used to want that. But… it’s different with Sam.”

Andrew saw the pain that shot across your features. There was so much anger that ran through his veins then…

“Right,” you nodded.

“Like… my work seemed the most important, but now… not anymore. Or… not in the same way. So, why wait?”

“Why wait, indeed…” you slowly nodded while Frank and Sam exchanged a tender gaze, one that made Andrew nauseous.

He looked down at the piece of cheesecake he had barely touched, decided not to eat it. He couldn’t get anything more down…

The meal ended in a quiet mood, with conversations spent mostly between Sam and Frank, but the couple seemed satisfied with this situation. When they disappeared in a cab together, Andrew felt emptier than ever. A shell without a pulse or any other semblance of life…

“Andy?”

He turned around to look at you standing behind him in the street, right before the restaurant. Your frame was illuminated by both the white light coming from the restaurant’s sign and the orange hues of the streetlights.

He caught himself thinking that you were beautiful, had to push the thought away. But you were. You had dressed up tonight, undoubtedly to impress Frank, just like Andrew had tried to impress Sam with his careful choice of outfit. And Andrew was impressed, at any rate. You were gorgeous…

You offered him a humourless smile.

“Tonight was… a lot, right?”

He nodded, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“You can say that…”

“I can’t say that it went… incredibly well.”

“No… it was… strange.”

“Let’s put it that way, yeah.”

“I’m not sure it helped us make any progress.”

“I’m not so sure either. On the contrary. But we tried, at least.”

Andrew nodded, looked at you as you heaved a sigh.

“You know what I want right now?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to speak again, his hands now buried in his pockets.

“I really… really… want to get drunk. Like… hammered. Properly destroyed.”

Andrew exploded with laughter.

“You know what… sign me up! Getting very drunk sounds nice!”

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to be surrounded by people anymore,” you offered, and Andrew easily accepted.

As he followed you throughout the street, he reckoned that at least one thing in this evening could be pleasant, after all.

[bruhnze]

Apple tarts and tiramisu - part 3 - Lucy Bronze x reader

Other parts: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Lucy Bronze x Barista!reader

Summary: this story takes place in 2022, when Lucy just moved to Barcelona, ​​all fictional of course.

SMUT - MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3k? Maybe a bit over that .. warning, i didn't proofread..

Apple tarts and tiramisu 3

You dropped besides her on the bed out of breath and laid on your back panting.

"You are so good in bed" Lucy said after a bit "you probably won't believe me but usually others can't really make me cum"

You laughed because not only did you make her come multiple times in the past couple of hours, yesterday you had also made her come twice and that happend pretty quickly if you remembered it right "yeah right, you dont have to try to make me feel good, i already do" you chuckled.

Lucy rolled her eyes "i told you you wouldn't believe me, but now your even laughing at me ouch" she put her hand on her chest and faked being offended.

You climbed on top of her "aw sorry did i hurt your feelings" you sarcasticly said "Do i have to make up for it with another orgasm?" You traced you fingertips at certain parts of Lucy's body, resulting in the exact reaction from her body you had hoped "see, we just did all that and you still can't get enough" you came closer to her ear and wispered "if anything, i think your easy".

Lucy's jaw dropped open, she was usually, almost always, the one who would take the lead in the bedroom with her previous partners.

Lucy couldn't believe what you did and how much effect it had on her.

You broke the tension "but sadly im totally done for" you sighed and stepped out off the bed "shall we take a shower?"

She looked at you confused and with refueld desire "are you just gonna- now you want too-

You smirked and then joked "yeah im not an athlete like you,.. i should probably work on my stamina"

She groaned "sure you dont want to come back to the bed for a minute"

"Lucy," you laughed "if i lay down one more second i am a thousand percent sure i will fall asleep"

"Okay" she sighed "lets take a shower then".

////

The following days were quite busy for Lucy, she wouldn't be free until next sunday. You had asked her if she usually only had an off-day on sundays.

''Hmm, yeah i guess, sunday is supposed to be my rest day, because it's usually the day after the match, so then i shouldn't do too much, saturday's before games are also free time, but then i have to be even more carefull. But my scedule is very versatile, so i just try to live day-to-day really. I look at my agenda weekly and keep it at that''. Had her answer been.

You had a lot of respect for her, you knew she loved football but it was truly a life dedication to play for Barca, you imagined the pay would be quite good but you didn't know if you would trade your own simplistic for such a hectic one.

You thought about how things would be if you and Lucy would get together as a couple one day and daydreamed about it during your whole monday shift.

Lucy had told you she had a busy day that monday and besides that, you weren't sure if she would get her matcha at your coffee shop still after the weekend you had. You didn't know why you had the thought because the two of you had basicaly been texting ever since you left her house that night until she, and you, had to go to sleep. That morning you had recieved a goodmorning text and you had send one back, you had already opened the shop. When she send a picture of her brushing her teeth, you send her one back of you preperaring the coffee machine, deserving a ''cute x'' You didn't know what to reply so you had just replied ''no you x'' After that it had been quiet, resulting in you daydreaming the whole shift.

Around noon your phone buzzed again, for the umpteenth time this day you quickly checked if it was Lucy. Normaly your phone was on silent when you worked, but today you were so eager to recieve another text from the woman that had taken over your thoughts that you had left it on vibration mode.

You smiled, your lockscreen said 'Lucy apple tart send an image , unlock to see.'

You opened it and saw a selfie of her with a sweaty face on some kind of massage table.

@Lucy apple tart: still think im cute 🙃?

@y/n: yes but what are you doing, getting massages?

@y/n: thought you had training 😂

@Lucy apple tart: just done training, and this is physio btw not massages

@Lucy apple tart: although we get those too sometimes, but thats more a recovery thing

@y/n: ah, got it, when is your next game?

@Lucy apple tart: saturday why

@y/n: you have to recover after that right

@Lucy apple tart: yup

@y/n: need a masseur?

@Lucy apple tart: 👀

@y/n: 👀

@Lucy apple tart: its a nearby away game which means i will be back v late 😔

@y/n: ah and sleep is the most important recovery!

@Lucy apple tart: wise and pretty you are!

@y/n: thats just me quoting my PE teacher friend, she's quite a serious gym girl haha

@Lucy apple tart: the one u took to the game?

@y/n: yes shes my bestfriend

@Lucy apple tart: can i meet her sometimes? she sounds v nice

@y/n: bet she would love that

@Lucy apple tart: cool

@Lucy apple tart: if you want it could be at the game saturday?

@y/n: maybe a bit too public no?

@Lucy apple tart: GIF

@y/n: sticker

@y/n: cant be seen in public with u

@Lucy apple tart: 😂😂

@y/n: but fr?

@Lucy apple tart: love that you care and take my side in to perspective x

@Lucy apple tart: but ill fix tickets thatll get you access to the lounge before and after the game, we wont be there before the game but after we will, and then i could meet her?

@y/n: really

@Lucy apple tart: yeah im excited to meet your friend, usually that comes before the parents right

@y/n: lol u already met my mom tho

@Lucy apple tart: 😳

@y/n: well (yfs/n) will be v excited

@Lucy apple tart: im too!

You took a screenshot of the conversation to send to your bestfriend to tell her that she had been invited.

You wrote ''Espero que encara sigueu lliure, vau ser convidat per la mateixa senyoreta abs xx'' (hope your free, you were invited by miss abs herself xx) send her the screenshot.

One second later you realised you had send it back to Lucy.

@y/n: fuck

@y/n: wait dont translate pls

@y/n: just wanted to send yfs/n that she should keep her saturday empty

@Lucy apple tart: 😂😂😂😂Lucy apple tart

@y/n: omg

@y/n: didnt even remember that i had put that as your name

@y/n: 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

@Lucy apple tart: senyoreta abs 👀

@y/n: nooo abs is something else in catalan

@Lucy apple tart: what does it mean then?

@y/n: it means absolutely :)

@Lucy apple tart: ah okay!

..you texted your friend the screenshot and one of this part of the conversation..

@y/n: my excuse was terrible wasnt it

@Lucy apple tart:😂

@y/n: sry for objectifying you 😔

@Lucy apple tart: nah you give the best nicknames lmao

@y/n: really?

@Lucy apple tart: yh i cant pick if i like guapa or senorita abs best

@y/n: senyoreta abs

@Lucy apple tart: 😂 okay that ll be it then

@y/n: no you wrote spanish dummy

@Lucy apple tart: oop, senyoreta abs*

@y/n: good

@Lucy apple tart: good girl?

@y/n: now your pushing it apple tart!

@Lucy apple tart: sticker

@y/n: Sticker

@Lucy apple tart: ah shit gtg

@Lucy apple tart: ttyl pretty girl

@y/n: sticker

////

''I love this for you'' your friend said to you as you were sitting in the car driving to the stadium one town away ''and that you sent her the screenshot omg, so funny''.

''i felt so dumb omg'' you replied in Catalan ''but luckily she passed all the tests, she's not stuck up at all'.

Your friend quirked an eyebrow ''all the tests?''

''yeah, the putellas shirt? and now this too, she didn't even tease me about it'' you said.

''Maybe she's saving that'' your friend grinned.

You had told her to very detail about your experiences in bed with the dark-haired defender. The two of you always shared everything, eventhough her story's would be about men and yours about women.

''Stop it!'' you kept one hand on the steering wheel and with the other you poked her side ''and you will not say anything embarrasing about me later''.

''i wont y/n'' your friend said truthfully, but jokingly added ''i love getting to watch these games from the stands, im not going to take risks and end up behind the TV again''.

''good keep thinking about that'' you said.

''you aren't nervous are you?'' she asked

'' a little bit maybe, but i dont really know why, just healthy nerves i guess'' you stared at the road.

''hm, well im there to hold your hand'' she said and rubbed your arm affirmatively.

''Thank you''

..

''by the way, i wanted to pick up going to the gym a bit more if you still wanted me to come with? '' you asked.

''ugh i hate the fact that i know your motivation is sex but i love that you finally want to come so ill take it'' your friend groaned.

''what?''

''nah dont play stupid, you told me yourself that you lacked stamina to keep up with her''.

''Sorry sometimes i forget we share too much with eachother'' you groaned back

''nuh uh no such thing as oversharing'' her smile came back ''i love hearing about your life and i love oversharing mine''

''yeah true that, how did that date go anyways?''

''thuesday?''

''yeah''.

////

It was after the game. Your friend and you had watched Barca beat Girona FC with 1-4. It had been a scary start, as Girona had been 1-0 ahead, but overall Barca had been the better party.

''Here'' your friend handed you a drink ''got it from there'' she pointed at a bar in the corner.

There were quite a few people hanging around in the lounge. You saw your friend observing everyone ''recognise annyone?''

Your friend laughed ''yeah it's funny, i see some family members of the players'' she nodded in a direction ''i believe that is Olga, she's Putellas girl''.

''How do you know?''

''Instagram'' she replied ''honestly i cant believe how bad you're living under a rock, even now, i would've been searching the whole internet if my girlfriend was famous, you have-

''she's not my girlfriend'' you hissed as your cheeks got flushed.

''oh sorry'' your friend smirked but when she saw your face she said ''ill behave''.

''Good, corazón de melón''

Your friend cringed, she hated when you used that nickname. But when she looked over your shoulder her face came back to a smile ''if that isn't senyoreta abs''.

You turned around shamefully quick and saw a few Barca players entering the lounge, freshly showered and dressed in a tracksuit.

You turned back to your friend wanting to ask were, but when you saw a stupid grinn on her face you know she had fooled you.

''ahhh you shouldve seen how quickly you turned'' she burst out laughing.

''Something funny?'' you heard a farmilliar face.

This time you turned around more slowely ''Lucy?''

''heyy you remembered my name'' Lucy said as she walked over to the two of you and gave you a hug.

''well this is yfs/n'' you looked over to your friend ''yfs/n this is Lucy''.

''yep i knew'' your friend said unusually shy.

You chuckled ''where did your big mouth go, it's just lucy''.

Lucy became also a bit shy ''hey yfs/n heard so many good things about you., can i hug you?''

''yeah ofcourse'' your friend said enthousiasticly.

The three of you chatted for a while and when the players left the room one by one , Lucy was the only player left in the lounge.

When your friend and Lucy talked about a subject you didn't really care for, sports, you're eyes wandered around the room.

''eh Luce, dont want to be a buzz kill but your mates have left''

''Oh shit'' Lucy said ''thanks, should probably get running, dont want to miss the bus''.

She dapped your friend up, which made you frown, but then gave you a hug. ''bye pretty girl'' she wispered in you ear.

As she walked off you said ''bye apple tarts'' but you doubted she heared it.

////

You were back in your apartment, you had dropped of your friend at hers and was now walking to your bed, dieing for something more comfy to wear.

Your phone rang, it was Lucy.

''Hey'' Lucy said carefully.

''what's up'' you said as you had the phone between your ear and shoulder pulling of your pants and socks.

''Hello to you too'' lucy laughed ''wanted to ask if you got home safe''

''sorry'' you laughed back ''im multitasking, but yes im at home''

''oh what are you doing?'' She asked sincere, truely curious what you were up too.

You snickered ''well if you need to know, im getting undressed''

''oh, really'' she said cheeky

Your phone buzzed and you took it in your hand to look.

*FaceTime request from Lucy apple tarts*

''ohh nooo apple tarts, cheeky bastard'' you laughed.

''ugh, worth a try'' she pouted true the phone.

''If you really want a peek you'd have to come here'' you teased

''Well,.. i guess i still have that offer for a massage to take you up on'' she said.

In the same tone she used you replied ''yeah i guess you do, you should probably cash that, never know when it will expire''.

////

You had taken out oil from somewhere and lit a candle, on the bed you had placed two folded towels and a white bathrobe.

''hello'' you called true the intercom as Lucy had buzzed it.

In the time it had took her to come to you, which had been suprisingly little, you had put on some lingerie and on top of that a oversized shirt.

''y/n'' she said as you opened the door.

''hey Luce-'' you said with a dopey smile.

''what? were are you smiling at?'' She asked and looked at her sweater, thinking she had maybe spilled something.

''No silly'' you stepped into her space ''happy i can finally kiss you again''.

''hmm'' lucy said as she came closer to your mouth with her own ''yeah finally indeed''.

...

''wow, you have prepared'' Lucy smiled

''yeah, you can wear the robe i guess, i have to admitt i dont realllyy know what im doing''.

''hm'', Lucy grinned ''well im with you, i only know sportsmassages and than im in my kit'', ''or underwear''.

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow ''underwear''

''yeah you know, sportsbra'' she lifted her shirt a bit and pointed at her briefs ''boxers''.

''ohhhh underwear'' you sarcasticly replied ''okay so, underwear? or i could put those towels over you''.

''mkay'' Lucy grinned ''if you insist, i wouldn't have minded to be bare''.

''well we haven't started yet, you could-

''no ill take that towel'' she smirked ''for over my butt''.

...

you had spent a fair time kneeding Lucy's back muscles and shoulders and was now busy on her hamstrings.

''very thight'' you said, not realising how dirty that sounded.

Lucy hadn't picked up on it either and groaned ''yeah especially that left one''

You moved to her left.

''ah yeah, there'' ''uhg, a litte more le- ahrggghh yeah like that'''.

The sounds Lucy made and the words she grunted had you blushing.

You went to her calves for a bit before retrieving back to her hamstrings creeping up slowely but surely. Your hands were already pretty far under the towel, but the towel had been so big that when you had folded it double, it still covered way to much area for your liking.

''i think i have to get the towel out of the way'' you say ''cant reach your gluteus maximus''.

Lucy laughed into the bed ''if you want to touch my butt just ask''.

''no'' you stayed in your role ''this is a sportsmassage, cant ignore the largest muscle of the body, can i''.

''Calling my ass fat'' she snickered

''You think its funny?''' You said smugly and experimentally gave a little smack to her butt.

'Agh' a moan escaped her throath.

You massaged her ass, grabbing hands full and kneeded it. Before you tracked back to her muscles, continuing the 'sports' massage.

You didnt know if you saw it right, but you thought you saw her lifting her butt just a bit from the bed.

You stood up. "Turn around?" You asked.

She groaned bit turned around, she didn't bother trying to cover up anymore. Leaving the towel where you had dropped it next to her on the bed.

You shamelessly let your eyes roam her body.

Lucy squirmed under your gaze and reached out to one of your hands and placed it on her body.

"tan bonic" (so beautiful) you said softly almost wispering it.

You traced over her abdomen, feeling the buldging muscles below her skin.

Lucy's nipples hardened, and she grabbed her boobs with her own hands.

"Ey, atura ho" you said with an husk voice "i thought i was giving you the massage".

"O" lucy retracted her hands and laid them back besides her.

The way she obeyed you turned you on increddibly.

You climbed on top of her, sitting on hip height of her body, feeling your pulsating heat press into her body.

You want to reach forward to cup her breasts but the long t-shirt that you wore was caught between your bodies, restricting your movement.

With your knees on either side of Lucy you sit up a bit and pull of the shirt. Leaving you in just your underwear but still more dressed than Lucy is.

"Best massage ever" lucy grinned " a masseuse that takes of her shirt"

"It got in my way" you said a you palmed her chest.

"Im not complaining" she said.

When you took her nipples between your fingers she closed her eyes.

You leaned down to kiss her neck. Making you grind on her a little wich make you realise how wet you were.

Her hands found your hips and encouraged your movement.

You sat up a little bit more searching for the angle that worked best for you.

Lucy looked you in your eyes, you recougnised lust in her eyes.

"Tell me" you pant, slowing your movement "what's your happy ending?"

She tried to read your face, not completely understanding you or wanting to make sure she understanded you correctly.

"Anyting" you wispered ensuring "celebrate the win with me?"

She gulped and sat straight up, your upperbodies were now almost touching as you sat on her lap.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Mhm" you grinned "i can see in your eyes you need something"

Luxy pulled you in for a kiss and turned the two of you so that she was now on top of you.

"I brought something" she wispered "wait for me"

You laughed "no i wont go anywere i promise" after all you were laying in your own bed, you wouldnt even know were to go.

You blew out the candle that you saw was still burning, thinking it was hot enough in the room. And made yourself comfortable.

You realised how late it actually was and thought about the fact that you didnt feel sleepy at all.

If anything you felt adrenaline, curious about the thing Lucy had brought.

You didnt have to wait for an awnser long because Lucy stepped back into the room.

You saw her wearing a strap-on, with a black harness.

Lucy looked at you waiting for a respons.

When she didnt move, you stood up from the bed and walked her way.

You gave her a little kiss on her bottom lip and then went to her cheek.

"Hey" you said in her ear and turned to kiss her neck. You felt her shiver below your tender kisses.

"Hey" lucy said back "what do you think?" She asked carefully.

"I think your hot" you said softly biting her skin "and maybe you should carrie me to the bed" you hand felt up her stomach and went to her bicep.

Lucy smiled "you ike me muscles pretty girl?"

Her voice was low and she sounded more english, you took it as a sign that she was just as turned on as you.

She grabbed your ass and effortlessly lifted you up. You sat against the thick plastic item attached to Lucy.

You groaned, the 'massage' you had given lucy and the grinding on Lucy had already worked you up so much that you were sure you didnt need much to come undone.

Lucy turned around before the bed and sat down with you on her lap.

The two of you became entangled in a heavy make out session.

She was such a good kisser, you lost yourself in the kiss and your hips moved on their own.

She broke away from the kiss, placing a few more on your lips.

"Want to ride me?"

"Mhmm yeah" you moaned out, imagening feeling her inside already.

You stepped of her lap and quickly took of the pieces you were still wearing.

Lucy scootched back on the bed. Leaning her back against the headboard.

She looked at you with a glistering in her eyes. "la chica mas bonita" (the prettiest)

You smiled and got back on the bed, taking place on her thighs.

"cant wait to have you on my cock" Lucy said as she rubbed your upper thighs and hips.

You looked at her with wide eyes, not expecting those words.

"sorry, too much?

You didnt answer but kissed her. She returned the same energy but let yku lead the kiss.

When you broke the kiss you wispered " want to feel you inside me luce"

She guided you on to her strap, you lowered yourself carefully.

You closed your eyes and your hands found Lucy's abdomen to stabilise yourself.

She replaced her hands so they were a bit more on your ass rather then your hips and leaned in to kiss your neck.

The movement with her inside you set a low moan free from your throath.

She kissed your neck softly.

Once you had adjusted to the object that was within you, you began to move slowly.

"Lucy you feel so good" you said grinding down on her.

She kneeded your ass and sat up straighter, you removed your arma from inbetween the two of you to around her. Pulling her even more close to you.

Her mouth working you neck, her hands on your butt and her body coliding with yours in many places by the intimit embrace you shared all took part in the uncontrolable high you experienced.

You cried out Lucy's name and digged you nails in her back as you rutted up and down her dick a few more strokes before collapsing against her.

Her fingers traced your back and then went to wipe some strands of hair out of your face "that was amazing" she said with a scrill voice.

"Hmm" you nodded against her neck "you feel amazing, show me how good you can make me feel?"

"now?"

"Mhmm" you groaned "i want you lucy"

-----

That concludes part 3 😳 hope you liked it

more parts

[melehound]

The first time 141 + König say “I love you” FEM READER!

Kyle “gaz” garrick

It’s huge for him when he says it he’s so worried it’s not the right time so he tries to play it off casually like before you both lay down to sleep and he has his back to you in bed he says “Goodnight love, I love you”

When you say it back he lets out a deep relieved sigh and rolls over to cuddle you

Prefers calls over texting so he’ll just talk to you while your away from him when he has time every time he calls you without fail he says I love you and when you don’t say it back he’s like “🤨”

John “soap” mactavish

He comes home absolutely plastered one night and he’s talking about how much he loves his gf (you) and how he plans to marry you and give you a family

He recorded all of this rejecting you trying to have proof that he wasn’t cheating on you (with you 💀)

He saw it in the morning and he never recovered but he started saying ily more but it reminds him of the video and he worries you’ll bring it up and make fun of him

John price

Before he goes to work on a lazy Monday morning “alright love I’ll be back later, love you”

And he doesn’t realize what he said before he walked out the door and he just rolled with it and just started saying it everyday before he left for work

He doesn’t really like texting but he’ll do it for you he just leaves everybody else on delivered and read

Your the person everybody sees him texting in the most random situations “cap? What are you doing we’ve been captured who are you texting!?” “I’m texting (y/n) she should be sleeping near this time 😊”

Simon “ghost” Riley

It’s over text before you go to bed “gn ily”

It wasnt on purpose he just typed it and went to bed and he woke up with your text saying “omg ily too gn 💗” and he’s like sp confused he honestly didn’t do it on purpose he was so tired

After that he says it over text and irl every time he leaves the house or when he goes to bed almost every night he’s apart from you

Also random tangent I feel like his first impression of true love was an ancient version of high school musical on a shitty VCR tape Troy bolten and Gabriella Montez were what true love was to him because he knew what his parents had at young age wasn’t healthy because he’s seen other peoples happy family’s on television and at school so he would have that movie on repeat (it was the only VCR tape he had)

König

He blurted it out after he busted early during sex

He’s so embarrassed that it was the first time he said it but now he just can’t stop telling you

He says it so much it’s not even funny he puts it at the end of most of his texts “going to the store, love you ❤️” “left for work, love you ❤️” “taking a shower, love you ❤️” “goodnight i love you ❤️”

He keeps you on call when he goes to public spaces so he doesn’t look approachable especially when he goes to the store

((✿: running dry on requests need more pls🌚 just hit 100 followers 😭 thank you sm omg))

[nikkento-writes]

After back-to-back-to-back meetings, you finally emerge from your office at home, stomach grumbling, hungry for the lunch you should have taken over an hour ago. You’ve only got fifteen minutes to spare before yet another conference call. Nanami stopped by earlier for his own lunchbreak before heading off to another mission and you’re sad to have missed him. Hoping to hear his voice even just for a few seconds, you retrieve your phone from your pocket, ready to dial his number. Before you can, you notice a few text messages from him that puts the biggest smile on your face.

There’s lunch for you in the fridge. 

Hope your meetings go well. On a mission the rest of the day, so no access to phone. 

I love you.

You open the fridge and see a plate with plastic wrapped over it, covering the tamago sando he made for you, one of your favorites. A little note in his handwriting is taped to it. Enjoy lunch, sweetheart. I love you.You’ll never get tired of hearing it. The both of you have made it a habit to say it often; with his profession as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, there’s no way to predict if it will ever be the last.

Heart full, you devour the sandwich quickly, snapping a quick shot of the empty plate. You send it to him along with a message of your own. No crumbs left. Thank you for lunch, sweetie. Have a safe mission. I can’t wait to see you at home. I love you so much. This is exactly what you need to get through the rest of your workday.

You end up working overtime to finish some deadlines before the weekend, so by the time your husband returns home, you’re still staring at the computer screen, typing away at your keyboard. When you hear him moving around in the kitchen, you start typing faster, desperate to be done with this and to be held in your husband’s arms. Responses to your emails are going to come in soon, but waiting around for them isn’t going to make you feel any better, so you finally get up from your chair to greet Nanami. He looks tired too, eyes heavy with fatigue, hair ruffled, tie loosened around his neck. His job is exhausting, and you always feel guilty complaining about yours when he constantly risks his life for his.

He's sat on the couch, head leaned back, eyes closed as if he’s ready for a nap. When he hears you approaching, he opens his eyes, smiling as soon as he sees you, the weariness in his expression almost disappearing completely. “Hi sweetheart,” he says, patting the spot beside him. “Done with work?”

You sit down, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s warm, always is, and you bask in it, an instant serotonin boost. “Almost. Just a few more minutes. Waiting for some emails.”

He kisses your forehead, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I’m sure you can check them on Monday.”

You yawn, closing your eyes without really meaning to. “They might have some questions – ”

He guides you down onto his lap, letting you use him as a pillow, stroking your head gently. “You can answer them next week.” His voice is soft and soothing, like a lullaby coaxing you into the most peaceful slumber. He knows all the ways to put you at ease, to make you forget about deadlines and projects and emails that you think can’t wait but actually can. Because getting to do this with him means he’s home, safe and sound. Alive.

You’re asleep now, already snoring, his hand still petting you softly. The distinct sound of an email notification pings from your office, but nobody budges, especially not Nanami. He smiles down at you, watching your sleeping form, enjoying the way your body rises and falls with every steady breath you take. He gets to sit here and be with you like this. Emails, deadlines, curses, overtime. Nothing even matters but you.

[dameronology]

liar (bucky barnes)

based on the paramore song of the same name lol a.k.a the one where bucky barnes is scared of his own feelings a.k.a jazz is back in her bucky era

warnings; language

enjoy!!

-jazz

Bucky Barnes had never considered himself a liar.

If anything, he had a hard time not telling the truth. It escaped from his mouth before he even had the chance to think about; no, Steve, I think your new hair cut sucks and sorry Sam, she wasn’t actually checking you out, she was waving at the guy behind you. Call it a product of his years as an assassin - because he couldn’t recall being this truthful back in the war - but it was part of who he was now. Sometimes he thought it meant he should come with a warning; something to say don’t pull the pin on this grenade, because he won’t lie to your mum about liking her food. Would that have been the worst Tinder bio ever? Yeah, no doubt.

Bucky had a hard time even lying to himself. That had become clear as soon as you whirl-whinded into his life. That day was still as crystal clear in his head six months later. It had been an early morning at the SHIELD HQ - the F-train had been delayed an hour and he’d come sprinting into a national security meeting, Starbucks in one hand (he was already late, he figured five minutes more for a frappuccino wouldn’t hurt) and a jumbled apology ready to offer. Then, not two seconds later, you’d come sprinting through the door, smacking into the back of him and launching the iced coffee from his hand, into the air, and straight into the lap of the British prime minister. 

Bucky was late, but you’d been even later. He liked that about you.

You were a whirl-wind in his life; his best friend from that day forward and the reason he could let go of the breath he’d been holding for so many years. Meetings were never boring with you, nor was the paperwork after long missions or the early starts. Every time he was late, he knew you’d take even longer because maybe his commute from Brooklyn was long but you lived three blocks away from work and managed to sleep through every goddamn alarm you’d set. 

It was clear about exactly three seconds after you met that you and Bucky were not destined to just be friends. You knew it and he knew it but neither of you wanted to talk about it. Avoiding the truth wasn’t necessarily lying - Bucky was thankful for that, because he knew that if you asked, everything would come out. He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for love. 

So, you both left it to rest (and maybe to rot). 

“I hate meetings,” you grumbled. It was eight o’clock on a Monday morning and thanks to a national security threat, you once again found yourself in the SHIELD meeting room earlier than you felt to be natural. “Can’t they just put this in an email?”

“Probably,” Bucky replied. “Hi guys, there’s a terrorist threat. If you see something, say something. Lots of love, the security council.” 

You snorted. “Did you know I have all of their emails sent straight to my spam?”

“I would do the same but I can’t work out how the Facebook app works,” he muttered. “Why are there so many buttons? What are cookies?”

“Buck, why would you have the security council on Facebook?”

“Isn’t that…” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “Isn’t that where emails go?”

You dropped your head in your hands and let out a groan. “I only just got you used to Twitter. I’ll leave it a few weeks before I overwhelm you with any more social media apps.”

“What about TikTok?”

“I am never letting you download TikTok,” you said. 

“Sam said that I should make thirst traps-”

“- please no!” you cut him off. “Never take life advice from Sam.”

Sam was sat across the table from you, a scowl on his face. He was a morning person - hell, the man had already been for a run that morning - but the combination of you and Bucky at any point in the day was enough to drive him up the wall. He glanced between you both, brown eyes calculating for a second, before a grin spread across his face. 

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t,” Sam chirped. “Remember last week when I told you to do that thing, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Shut up, Sam.”

“What thing?” you frowned.

“It’s not mine to share,” Sam shrugged. “But based on the last five minutes’ worth of interactions alone? I think it would be best to listen to me-”

“- I swear to god if you don’t stop talking!” Bucky cut him off; then he glanced at you, blue eyes wavering for a second. “Don’t listen to him.”

Sam knew that he was doing; playing devil’s advocate because a) it meant he could piss off Bucky and b) hopefully get two of his best friends to finally get together after months of pining. It had gotten to the point where him and Steve had literal bets on it. Not necessarily on if you would get together, but more on when. 

“I’m not, but you’re acting weird,” you said. “Want to share with the class?”

“No,” Bucky firmly said.

“Buck,” you warned; it was clear by your voice that you weren’t fucking around. “I don’t know what immature high school bullshit is going on right now but I don’t appreciate it.” 

“I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” he said. 

“You’re an ass,” you replied.

Picking up your bag and coffee, you shuffled over to the other side of the meeting table where Steve was sat. He hadn’t said a word in any of this; you quite often cursed the lack of boundaries amongst the four of you, but you couldn’t fault Steve that morning. He’d kept to himself, simply watching in awe at the chaos that had just unfolded. 

You stopped in the seat beside him, glancing over at him. “If you say a word, I’ll hit you.”

“I’m not saying anything,” he held up his hands in defense.

The meeting was quick, thankfully. Even worse, it definitely could have been put in an email. You also couldn’t help but notice the British diplomats watching your coffee carefully every time you moved - that was a joke you could have made to Bucky, had he not managed to get himself into your bad books.

You’d barely been out the board room five minutes before you were practically wrestling him by the ear into a quiet corner. The meeting had been quick, thankfully. It hadn’t felt that way for Bucky, who’d been sat opposite you the entire time, barely avoiding your dagger-y gaze. If looks could kill, his vibranium arm would have had a fair few dents in it. 

“So?” you asked. “What was that all about?”

“It’s nothing,” Bucky quickly replied. “I promise-”

“- bullshit!” you cut him off. “Why are you keeping things from me, Buck?”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” you exclaimed. “Look, I don’t even want to know what you and Sam were talking about but at least have the common decency not to keep me out of a conversation that’s about me!”

“Why aren’t you mad at Sam too?!”

“Believe me, I have it out for Sam too but it’s worse when this stuff comes from you!”

Bucky thinned his eyes at you. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He sighed, shifting from one foot to another. Eyes to the ceiling for a second, he took a deep breath. 

“Sam told me last week that I should ask you out,” he said. “Said something about how everyone around us can see what we don’t, and that we’re kidding ourselves, and…”

You sniffed, trying to stay composed. It had been a long time coming, there was no denying that. Bucky had been avoiding the conversation because he wasn’t ready but you’d been avoiding it because you were terrified of the answer. Rejection from literally anyone else in the world would have been fine, but from him? There was no metaphor for that pain, or that fear. 

“And what?” you asked. “What do you think of that?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s…”

You both waited for a second, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

“...dumb.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Dumb?!”

“Yeah?” Bucky sounded unsure. “We’re best friends, and-”

“- that’s bullshit!” you snapped. “Buck, I know you can be confusing but…if there’s one thing I am certain of, it’s that we are not just best friends and you know it!”

“Do I?”

You took a step back, sniffing. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s dumb. Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, don’t be like that-”

“- it’s fine, James,” you sniffed. “I’ll see you around.”

“Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

(You weren’t good.)

“Okay, I’m glad. Call me later, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” you forced a smile.

(You weren’t going to call him.)

–

Five days.

That’s the longest Bucky had gone without talking to you since he’d met you and also the exact amount of time you’d been ignoring him for. He’d given in calling you after three days, and considered coming around your apartment after four, but then he got a last minute call onto a mission where your name was at the top of the call sheet. Fab. 

Bucky liked to consider himself a good flier, but it certainly would have been easier to co-pilot a jet with someone who was actually willing to talk to him. It was quite amazing, actually, to see the lengths that you were willing to go to all in pursuit of icing him out. 

“This is Barnes to air traffic control on QJ564. We’ll be approaching our destination in about five minutes, currently at 10,000 feet, over.”

“This is ATC to QJ564, you’re cleared for landing in Munich, runway four. Over.”

“This is Barnes to ATC on QJ564. Runway four confirmed, thank you. Could you also tell my co-pilot that I’m sorry and that I miss them? Over.”

“Uh…this is ATC to QJ564. Barnes says he’s sorry and that he misses you. Over.”

“This is Barnes’ co-pilot on QJ564, tell him that I think he’s a cun-”

“- this is Captain Rogers monitoring the channels for suspicious activity from the headquarters. May I remind the pilots aboard QJ564 of the appropriate workplace manners over professional channels? Over.”

After Steve’s voice, the lines went silent. Bucky glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. 

“That was rude.”

You continued to ignore him, attention turned to landing the jet safety. It wasn’t hard - Tony Stark had built a jet that practically landed itself, but it was still a good enough excuse to blank out your best friend for the next five minutes. Still, none of that conversation was worth the absolute castigating you were about to receive from Captain America as soon as you were back in New York. He was no fun sometimes. 

With the jet safely on the runway, you parked up at the airport and made your way down to the tarmac where the agents were waiting. All you had to do now was await instructions from headquarters on what to do next. That gave you more empty time with Bucky, who was stood next to you. So, you moved away and leant against the wheels of the plane, pulling out your phone to play Doodle Jump.

The call came through eventually, but it was to Bucky’s radio instead of yours. 

“Right, agents,” he began, though it was more a sigh than anything. “Coulson is currently ten minutes out on another quinjet to lead the mission. Agent (Name) and I have been removed from this operation for the foreseeable future so that we can sit in the jet, man the communications systems and re-take the online seminar about appropriate workplace language.”

“What?!” you exclaimed. “Nice one, Barnes!”

Bucky forced a smile, trying not to crack up in front of the fifteen junior agents stood in front of you. “Why we have to retake it is a mystery to me.”

“Good luck out there, guys,” you huffed. With that, you spun around and stormed back on board the jet. 

Bucky was hot on your heels, closing up the door behind him as he went. He didn’t really know what to say - somehow he’d made you angrier, now - but apolgoising profusely felt like a pretty good place to start. 

“So you’re talking to me now?” he asked, following you through the fuselage. 

“No!”

“You just did!”

“Fuck off, Bucky!”

“And again!”

“Leave me alone!”

He grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it,” you huffed.

Taking a seat, you curled your legs up in front of you. You didn’t try and swat (or hit) Bucky when he leant down in front of you, which he took as a good sign. It was time to pull out the big guns. 

“Can I talk for just…maybe five seconds, possibly ten, without you interrupting?”

You nodded.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you because you’re the last person in the world I’d ever want to upset but I was put on the spot by what Sam said, and then by what you said, and it freaked me out a little,” he began. “You and I both know that he’s right - but never tell him I said that - and honestly, the silence you’ve given me over the last five days made me realise that more than ever.”

You smiled. “What are you saying, Buck?”

“I love you,” he said. It was plain and simple, completely without hesitation and entirely with conviction. “I’ve known that for a while but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, but like I said…five days without you made me realise I don’t even want to go five seconds without you.”

“That’s how you apologise,” you gave him a watery grin, poking him in the chest. 

“So?”

“So what?”

“Anything you want to say to that?”

“Oh, yeah!” you exclaimed. “I love you too.”

Bucky pulled you into a kiss; he held you flush against him, one hand holding the back of your neck, metal one gripping the back of your tac-vest. Despite everything, he was warm and you were certain then that you were never going to let him - if not a little ecstatic that you’d found a new way to shut him up. 

You both jumped back when you heard the doors to the jet go, only to turn around and see Phil Coulson on the phone, a glare on his face.

“What is it with you two and inappropriate work place behaviour?”

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

IM ON HERE TO CELEBRATE YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS 🎉🎉🎉 WOOOOT!

Can I pretty please request Jax Teller for prompt #14!?

Thank you!!!!!

Masterlist

Insomnia

Contains: Very mild angst, fluff.

1.2K words

“My eyelids are heavy, but my thoughts are heavier.” - Unknown

You couldn't begin to express how grateful the late nights were less late now that the club was out of guns and drugs. The only downside was that Jax and the rest of the Sons were now just mechanics, they had cars to fix and taxes to file, not meeting deadlines meant parts didn't get bought and paychecks weren't written.

Anxiety still lingered when Jax was away at night, a hold off from the worry that the next phone call would deliver the worst news one could get. Tonight was one of those nights, even though you knew Jax was safe, your brain wouldn't quiet.

The sound of a door opening drew you from your thoughts, "What are you still doing up? It's almost one."

You shrugged, "The usual. I can't sleep when your side of the bed is cold. Your dinner is in the microwave."

Jax gave you a soft smile, "Lucky me because I'm starving. Sit with me while I eat?"

You nodded, "That's my plan." Jax hurried to the kitchen and warmed his dinner before sitting next to you at the dining table, "Did you get all your work done?" 

"You bet, and I've got the whole weekend off so we can sleep in." You could smell the faint hint of oil on his clothes. 

"That's great news, you know how much I love our lazy mornings." If you were lucky, Abel would be there too, between you and Jax. 

"You and me both darlin. How was work?" He must have been hungry, half the food was already gone. 

"The usual." You yawned and Jax reached across the table to hold your hand, "I'm sorry, I guess I was just waiting for you to get home." 

Jax shook his head, "I'm almost done here. I'll hop into the shower then I'll be all yours." 

You sighed, "That sounds perfect." 

"How did Abel go at daycare today?" Jax loved all the pictures Abel drew for him, his locker, his office and his workstation were full of them. 

You smiled, "He had lots of fun today, they got a new water table and he went wild. I had to throw his tiny little shoes in the wash, that's how much fun he had." 

Jax chuckled, "I'll pick him up on Monday, I can't have you having all the fun darlin." 

"Sure, he loves it when you go and get him." You went to take Jax's empty plate from him, but he yanked it away. 

"I'll do that darlin." He rushed it to the sink before drying it and putting it away. Once that was done and he had wiped over the kitchen one last time, he walked back over to you and stretched out his hand, "Shall we?" 

You nodded and took his hand, "We shall." 

The trip to the bedroom was quick, and then Jax was stripping off and hopping into the shower, "You wanna get ready for bed darlin?"

You sighed, "I guess I better try and keep a routine, brushing my teeth and washing my face again won't hurt." 

Steam filled the room as Jax washed the day away and smirked when he caught you staring at him through the shower glass, "See something you like darlin?" 

You nodded, "You know I do Teller." 

The shower flicked off and he stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waist before stopping by the kiss you on the cheek on his way to the bedroom to get dressed. 

With his comfortable grey sweatpants on, he headed to the bed and flicked the heated blanket on your side before fluffing your pillow and peeling back the covers, "Hop in darlin." 

You took your robe off and placed it on the chair, leaving you in just one of Jax's T-Shirts and a pair of panties, then climbed into bed with a sigh, "It's so much better with you here. Maybe we should get a cat so when you're not here, I'm not alone in bed." 

Jax smiled, "I like that idea, we've got the room and it will be good for Abel to have a pet." 

You reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle of the lavender lotion but before you could do anything, Jax took it from you, "Let me?" 

You nodded, "I'd like that." 

He started with your arms, rubbing the smooth cream in with broad, firm strokes, "What do we need for a cat? Food, water fountains, a few litter trays and toys. Hell, with Happy's help, we can have one by Monday." 

He pinched your shirt and you pulled it over your head so he could do your shoulders next, "We need a bit more time than that. The kitty should have a catio, that will keep you busy over a few weekends and once that's build and the cat can enjoy the outdoors without killing anything we can get the kitty." 

The corner of Jax's mouth ticked up as he moved to your chest and a thought came over him, "We can tell Abel can't we? He'll want to help." 

Your eye grew heavy as you spun and his hands moved over your back, "Sure we can tell Abel. He'll want to name the kitten and he should come when we pick. Not that it means anything, the cat will pick us." 

You returned to facing him and Jax moved to your legs, rubbing the ache out of your claves, "You've already said you'll let the cat on the bed so I only have one rule, he or she has to stay away from my kutte." 

You chuckled, "You and I both know that's not going to happen, cats do what cats want." 

Jax sighed and placed the bottle back in its spot before picking your book up, "I guess so. How are you feeling now darlin?" 

You smiled, "Great, I'm ready to call it a night." You slid all the way into bed and placed your head on the pillow, "Will you read to me, I love the sound of your voice." 

Jax looked over you fondly, "Of course, darlin, that was my plan when I picked up your book." You had been reading it to him for days, a sweet tale of a little robot in search of life on Mars who made friends with an alien. 

"Rusty lifted his little arm and ticked as he handed the apple slice to his friend, 'Apples are one of human's favourite fruits, you should try some.' The alien took the slice from him with a squeak and ate it in one bite, then gave another squeak of approval at the sweet taste." 

You snuggled closer to Jax and he wrapped his arm around your body, "The Alien squeaked again, then waved its arms before pointing to itself and then to Rusty. The series of squeaks that followed sounded like the robot's name and then another which must have been its own." 

Your eyes felt so heavy as Jax continued, "It made sense when Rusty heard it for a second time, 'Your name is Eldredth? Tell me Eldredth, have you ever had chocolate? It is the best of the human's treats." 

Jax smiled as he felt your chest rise and fall softly under his arm. He put the book and laid down next to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the blanket up to your neck, "Good night Darlin, I love you." 

Fin

[writing-mlm]

hii saw you also do marvel fics :) a scott summers x male reader would be so awesome i can never find any good mlm stories for him. bonus points if it’s like an opposites attract dynamic where the reader is more irritable and rash whereas scott is more level headed and critical. thank you, no rush!!!

Irritations and Delight

Summary: Your temper is well known amongst the others but they have a trick up their sleeves that works every single time. Pairing: Scott Summers x Male Reader WC: 4.7k a/n: genuinely foaming at the mouth for Scott I forgot how little screen time he gets LMFAOOOO

Scott sighs as he gets called down to the War Room just before midnight. It’s the third time that week he’s been called to stop a fight and considering that it’s only Monday he knows it’s going to be a very long week. Despite the urgency of Jean’s request, he takes his sweet time going down the stairs rather than taking the elevator as he should have and through the halls before he sees the door. It’s closed, so he presses his hand to it, rubbing the sleep from his face while it scans him.

“I’m not taking shit from someone I need to look down at!” He hears you scoff as the doors open. He knows you’re arguing with Logan, because of course you are, it’s more often than not him. “Keep your Canadian ass away from my fucking snacks!” You warn, nostrils flaring. Jean looks at Scott with a pleading look and he just leans against the door frame, debating if this is even worth intervening— spoiler; it’s not. He’ll let you go for a little longer, get most of the steam out of your system. 

“You can make more,” Logan shrugs. “Isn’t that your whole thing? Creating,” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so broke you gotta steal like an alley rat,” Taking the jab as well as you expected, Logan flares— damn near growls, too— and clenches his fist. You grin, staring at his claws, and tilt your head, threatening him even to try and hit you. But he’s stopped by Scott calling for you. Your last name cutting through the air like a whistle during gym class.

Scott’s voice is half a warning, half a tired plea when he calls you. Regrettably, his presence makes Logan smirk and you scowl before it drops from your face and you glare over at him. “C'mon now,” He beckons with his index and middle finger before turning and walking away. You suck your teeth and drop the topic for now. 

“Run along,” Logan taunts as you walk past him. “Daddy’s calling.” You stop and look at the door before at Logan; it’s not really a split-second decision but you walk back around and punch him in the jaw before leaving. He doesn’t fight back, not when Jean is attending to his ‘wound’ and Scott yells for you. He should be thanking you, really. She hasn’t willingly been that close to him in months. With one last shared look, you head out of the War Room and into the bright hallway. 

“Don’t say it,” You grit, rubbing your knuckles as you walk in stride with him. It doesn’t hurt, you’ve punched harder things, but you’re making sure that you didn’t break anything seeing as your hand is technically still healing from your last mission. 

“Say what?” Scott pauses, standing with his arms crossed. “That you’re being childish or that you shouldn’t hit your teammates?” Sucking your teeth, you drop your hands into your pockets and kick the imaginary rock on the floor. 

“He called you my daddy,” You grumble. “I’m older than you, by the way.” It’s like four months, but that’s still older than him. 

“Really?” He grins, his arms still crossed but now he flexes his biceps. It gets your attention more than his words do and he knows that. Asshole. “I couldn’t tell.” 

“Shut up, Summers.” 

He just tosses an arm over your shoulder and drags you over to the elevator. You bite the corner of your mouth, stopping the smile on your face until you’re alone in the elevator. 

“What even started that?” He asks, his knuckle stroking your cheek. It doesn’t take an empath to know the action alone makes you weak in the knees; metaphorically speaking, of course. The man knows how to make you unfold in seconds, which is why he’s the only one dispatched to handle you. 

“I was making cookies in secret,” You start, pursing your lips. “It’s stupid but I was proud of them and-and they were mine. But Logan’s stupid fucking nose sniffed them out while we were out getting groceries and he ate every single one of them.” He frowns, just a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s pitying you but he knows how much it hurts you. 

Baking wasn’t exactly a hobby of yours, truth be told you were a disaster in the kitchen, but he knew well enough that you could make some mean cookies. Everyone knew that and snatched them up whenever you made any, leaving nothing left for you. And yes, your mutation allowed you to recreate those same exact cookies as much as you wanted but you never did. 

“I just wanted something for myself— and you, of course. Just this once. And that bitch starts going on about how I should’ve hidden them better or put a note on them if I didn’t want anyone else eating them. But they were! They were in our room, in my dresser, inside of my tupperware!” Now you’re shouting and Scott takes a step back, his chest rising as you enunciate each pronoun. 

“I’ll speak with him,” He promises and your head whips around to face him. The elevator gets to your stop and you face forward, marching out and towards the staircase. 

“Oh, because then he’ll talk about how my ‘daddy’ came to my rescue again!” You shout while using air quotes. “No— it’s fine. Next time I’ll just make him a batch and load them with laxatives and chocolates, have that dog dying with shit pouring out his ass.” 

“(L/n),” He scolds, following you as you climb the stairs two at a time. “You agreed to stop calling Logan a dog.” He catches you by the elbow, spinning you around so you’re facing him. 

“No, I said I'll stop calling him a mutt.” You correct, waving your finger in front of his face. “It felt like a slur, so I stopped. But technically wolverines aren’t dogs, they’re weasels. So, dog doesn’t work either.” Slow blinking, Scott drops your arm and follows you into your shared room. By that point, you’ve gone quiet and it’s not because it’s after hours and you, as the responsible adult and teacher, would hate to wake the children up. 

He sees a mess, the things in your dresser are tossed about and the tubberware is broken into several pieces. You don’t apologize, you don’t feel a need to, instead you huff and start cleaning while he sits on the edge of your bed. Knowing that you hate it when he helps with your messes, he waits until everything is neatly folded or tossed into the trash can before he pulls you over. 

“Would you like it if I talked to the Professor about getting a toaster oven for our room?” He asks while guiding you to your side of the bed. You shrug as a response, staring at the wall. “Hey,” Grabbing your face with a ghostly grip, he makes you stare at him. “You can’t just shut down, come on.”

“I guess,” You huff, moving his hand from your face. “It’s ridiculous that we’d need to do that, though. It’s a communal space but no one respects it. I’m tired of treating people older than me like toddlers just because I have something they want!” Tenderly, he kisses the top of your head and lays properly next to you. 

“I understand, we can have a conversation with the Professor in the morning. For now, rest,” While he puts his night mask on, you reach over and turn the lamp off before holding him close. He insists on laying this way, with your head tucked into his back or neck and his grip tight on your hands. You like it, too. Scooping his legs on top of your own, you sigh into a yawn and try to fall asleep. 

—

“Hey, pretty boy!” You call as you enter the garage where Scott is working on his motorcycle. Classes had since finished up and with no other work to do, it was officially time to do whatever the fuck you wanted. And what you wanted was to bother your oh-so-loving boyfriend. 

“Yes, hun?” He calls from under that damn bike. Only able to see his legs, you lay your head against the door frame and look around. 

“Would you mind if I sit and watch you?” You ask, checking out an empty spot. Maybe you should get a motorcycle— but then he couldn’t drive you around anymore. But you could ride with him. But you wouldn’t have an excuse to not go places alone anymore. No motorcycle. 

“Course not.” He responds, sliding out from under the bike and beckons you over. Taking long strides over to him, you settle next to him and he explains what he’s doing. Fixing an exhaust pipe and something on the bottom of it had been dragging during the last ride so he was checking on that. You used to offer to fix it, your dad is a mechanic and your powers could fix it in seconds but he said he liked getting his hands dirty. 

You just know he doesn’t like anyone to handle his bike. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence until he finishes, you’d given up watching him tinker because you wanted him to actually do his task and knew you couldn’t stop yourself from pestering. Instead, you grabbed a useless tool in the box and changed it into various objects, eventually changing it back and reaching for an instruction manual that was hidden under wrenches. 

It wasn’t riveting or even particularly useful, an instruction manual for a toolbox wasn’t the best literature. But it passed the time until Scott let out the huff that signaled he was done and would admire his work for ten minutes. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask while he washed his hands in the large basin in the corner of the garage. 

“Not since lunch,” Lunch, if you could call it that, was a single slice of toast with a layer of jam so thin you couldn’t believe he wasted a knife for that. 

“Perfect, let’s go get some dinner.” Dinner with the rest of the school was hectic; it was dinner with a bunch of superpowered teenagers after all. So whenever you can, you opt to eat away from them and luckily tonight is one of those nights. 

Charles had ordered enough pizza to fill a god and you snagged a box before anyone noticed. It was yours and Scott’s favorite, too, so you think the Professor knew your plan from the start. But who knows? You still head outside with the box in hand and head to your secret spot on the property. 

Since the mansion overlooks acres of land there were plenty of secret spots but you like to believe yours was actually a secret. When you first got there you’d create a tree house, back then it was just large enough for you and your items but nowadays you hang with him whenever you can. 

The great weeping willow was the perfect tree to hide the house in, too. The large dangling leaves provided more than enough coverage— even for the spiral staircase you climb to reach the top. 

“How romantic,” Scott teases when you appear with a pizza box, soda, and two cups. You’d forgone getting plates because eating from the box is just as acceptable. You thank him and slide the box onto the table. He stops it from sliding off, watching as you grab a vinyl from the display case and set it on the player. It’s a newer one, one you’d stolen on accident. You swear it was an accident and Scott is inclined to believe that for his peace of mind. 

“Dinner and music,” He meets you halfway and runs his hands along your arms. “You really know how to treat a guy.” He muses. 

“Not just any guy,” Your lips curl into a smile as you stare at him. “My guy.”

“Your guy?” He echos and you nod, your eyes darting to his lips. 

“My favorite guy, my dream man, my boyfriend. My heart— I can continue if you’d like.” 

“Message received.” He shakes his head and presses a slow kiss to your lips. When his lips leave yours, you slowly open your eyes and then nudge his shoulder, telling him it’s time to eat. 

When you spend nearly all day with your significant other, sharing memories and gazes throughout the day, one might think there’s not much to talk about at the end of the day. But you begin to word vomit the second your butt hits the chair. Scott listens and gives his own input whenever he wants and the conversation eventually evolves into very juicy gossip about your students. 

Not very mature, sure. But come on! It’s like your own reality TV show. It would be better if one of you were telepathic but oh well, word of mouth and visual cues are just as fine. 

You think Tamara, a girl who’s technically a senior in high school with the powers to walk through walls is the one who’s been helping the younger kids during their nightmares before the others could get to them. Scott disagrees, he thinks it's Kevin, a kid who can enter people’s dreams.

“But Kevin can’t control whose dream he enters,” You point out, stopping yourself before you tell him about the time Kevin went into your dream where you were inside of the White House trying to get the President— who’d been Bob Marley— to come to your birthday party. 

“He’s getting better,” Scott draws his hand to his hair, slicking it back. “Because he’s been helping the others. You haven’t seen the way the kids look at him?”

“Have you seen how they look at Tamara? She’s like a big sister to them.” Tossing the crust of your slice into the box, you grab another. Honestly, his point does make sense. How else is a kid with dream powers supposed to get better? By entering dreams. “Maybe it’s both of them.” You settle on. 

“What? Kevin deals with the dream and Tamara helps them if they wake up?”

“I mean…” You trail. “Their rooms are right next to each other, it’s not hard to believe.”

“I think we cracked the code,” Scott grins and you nod as pizza cheese slides off of your lip. 

“Man, sign us the fuck up for mystery solving.”

—

Physically imposing wasn’t typically a word people would use to describe you. You don’t have a body type close to Logan or even Scott. You work out just enough, truly you don’t care too much about lifting cars or being able to punch through walls.

It’s useless in your opinion when you could very easily just turn the wall into sand or make the car paper. 

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. 

You’re plenty strong, you work out every morning with Scott. You often use the students as weights just for the hell of it. While you don’t keep track you think your current limit is two seventy-five on each side of the dumbbell. 

So when you punched a protester it caught him off guard. Which wasn’t hard considering he was busy shouting nonsense at your students. But, hey, he was being really annoying. No one around you said he didn’t deserve it, no one gave you a look of shame or disgust. 

But he didn’t hit the ground, time seemed to freeze and you sighed through your nose, fist still clenched as you listened to Charles making his way over. Scott wasn’t far behind, grabbing you by the elbow just before Charles spoke up. 

“Now, was that necessary?” He asks, his stupid holier than-thou voice doing nothing to make you ashamed of hitting the man. 

“When you talk shit about my kids, absolutely,” You tell him. “How about next time you agree to take at-risk children on a field trip, you use your shitty powers to make sure someone isn’t going to hurl cruel words at them.” 

“How’d he even know?” Scott asks, staring at the man’s clearly unhinged jaw. 

“Someone scared Man-man on accident and his face went all… froggy,” You explain, looking at Man-man with an apologetic look. He looks down, rubbing his arm. “And of course, the man saw.” 

“You should’ve come to me.”

“You should’ve known.” You correct him, staring down at him. “Isn’t that your whole thing? Mind reading, and understanding people’s characters? You’re supposed to look out for them and my method is much more effective than walking away and calling for you.” Scott whispers your name, his voice was soft, and begging you to stop arguing. 

You falter, not wanting to ruin the trip anymore, and run your face.

“Can’t you just wipe his memory? Only we saw.”

“And can we go somewhere cooler?” Claire asks, leaning against her boyfriend Todd. Her long blonde hair running down the length of her face before she shifts it behind her ear. “We’ve been to this evolution museum three times. I heard there’s a movie theater down the street.” 

“The movies sounds good,” Ororo agrees, ever the helper for Charles. “I’ve been wanting to see the new one, what’s the name?” She turns to Jean who whispers the name and she nods. 

“I suppose some quiet time in the cinema couldn’t hurt.” Charles reluctantly agrees and the kids cheer. 

“We could totally—“ 

“No.” Scott shoots the idea down and you sigh, crossing your arms while getting the kids to line up. He pinches your side as he gets his kids to line up next to yours and you pinch him back. 

“It would be for like twenty—“

“No,” He drags out, not even looking at you. 

“You don’t even know what I’m asking!” Giving you a look, you chuckle and nod. “I totally was asking for that.” 

—

“It’s nine,” Scott drawls from above you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on the headboard. “You’ve slept in plenty today.” You groan and roll over, pulling your cover up to your chin. 

“Suck a dick, Summers.” 

“I’m sure I will, later,” He blinks. “But you’ve missed breakfast and your first class. It’s time to get up.” Grumbling under your breath, you turn and face him. He’s been awake for hours, you knew because he woke you up when he did. Plus, he’s a messy sleeper and you relish the bed to yourself sometimes. He smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, stroking your hairline. 

“It’s Friday, man. Can’t we cancel class for one day?” Your eyes dart between his glasses, finding his eyes in the red. 

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head. “It’s time to get up.” Relenting, you sit up and drag yourself into the bathroom. He doesn’t stay, he has a class to teach and he knows if he does, you’ll rope him into missing it. 

Thankfully, you only have three classes before you can sit and relax. But things are never that simple inside that damn school, something happened during the period just before lunch. Some telepathic kid messed with the newest kid to join and the kid absolutely destroyed the classroom with his shock waves. He told you it was something about his past and you reassured him it’ll be fine before sending him up to talk with Charles. 

Tragic backstory after tragic backstory, you must’ve thought yourself lucky that your trauma came from the one time you accidentally turned a candle into a stick of dynamite at a historical building during a field trip. 

Not your best moment, you should admit. But the tour guide was being a prick and it’s what you imagined throwing at him. Sorry to the historical building, though, shame it became an arcade like five years later. 

This mutant's anonymous shit wasn’t your speed, sure that’s not what Charles called it (he called it mediation between two students who are having issues), but that’s definitely what it was. Everyone sat in a circle, telling their feelings and instead of some chip to commemorate being a mutant, you’re left to go out on ugly ass spandex and give up your apartment in replace of living amongst traumatized teenagers and more traumatized emotionally stunted adults. 

But hey, you agreed to become a teacher for those same young mutants— you just didn’t expect them to take to you like glue on paper. For fucks sake, you taught them chemistry, far from a friendly subject. You know you hated it when you were their age. And Jean tells you that you’re far from a friendly person, too. Not too sure on how she managed that assessment because there’s a group of teenagers in your office eating and talking. Willingly, during their lunch period. 

There are six of them, one of which is sitting on top of your filing cabinets and eating straight from a cantaloupe. No spoon or anything, just his hands. Never mind the chunks falling on your floor.  

“No, because Todd is totally grinding my gears,” Claire grumbles from the floor. Todd, her boyfriend, definitely wasn’t on your list of best students. “He keeps talking about he’ll be the next leader of the X-men and I’ll be his trophy wife! Trophy wife!” She shouts through a laugh. “He runs fast and I can bend light to my fucking will!” 

“He tried to get with Stacy Ambers,” You hum, stabbing your fork into a piece of chicken. Everything quiets down and they turn to face you, their jaws dropped. “I caught them during class when you went to the bathroom. He ran to give her a note, she giggled and nodded.”

“That sleaze!” Kelly shouts, standing on her knees. “Ugh! And with Sticky-Stacy? As if,” She lowers herself back to the floor and picks up her juice carton. “I say we stick them together in the training room and use them for target practice!”

“Saying stuff like that will get you a week's detention if the Professor hears,” You lazily remind them but you do nothing more to stop that conversation.

“The owner of the school is a telepath,” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he already knows all the fucked up plans in her noggin’.” 

“Which you shouldn’t be encouraging,” Scott chides from the door. “Come on now, go with the rest of your peers.” The kids groan and pack their things, leaving you and Scott inside the room. He steps inside and shuts the door. 

“I wasn’t encouraging,” You defend, holding your hands up. “I was acting as an outlet to the children, as Charles always drones on and on about.” He smiles and you think, rolls his eyes before he walks over to your desk. 

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it.” 

“What’re gonna do about it, Summers?” You grin, rolling your head to the side as he gets closer. He shrugs and sits on the edge of your desk. Grabbing his thigh, you roll your chair over to him and hang your arms over his legs. “Because it seems like you’re jealous I’m the favorite teacher.” 

“Jealous?” He echos, staring down at you. “Far from it; I’m glad you’re bonding with the children. We know how your temper is.” Frowning, you shove his stomach and lean back in your seat. He tilts his head as though you’ve proved his point and you chuckle, rolling your eyes. 

“Why’d you come anyway? You never visit lil ole me during lunch.” Grabbing your food, he steals a piece and you’re just glad it wasn’t the piece you were eyeing. 

“I do visit,” He rebuts. “I visited you last week. But I wanted to see if you wanted to come with me this Saturday? The Professor wants me to check out a potential mutant fight ring,”

“Hmm,” You pretend to think. “Another mission turned date, I can get down with that. Where is it?” 

“Chicago. Close to the border.” 

“Groovy, I’m in.”  Patting his thigh, you push yourself back to your desk and grab your lesson plan for next week. “Do you think the Professor would be upset if I turned the walls of the classroom into chocolate? For science, of course.”

“Yes, he would. Especially since they’re currently being rebuilt.”

“Aw, man. That was my whole lesson for Monday.” 

“Why don’t you do normal chemistry lessons? Like toothpaste volcanoes or colored fire?” He grabs another piece of your lunch and some of your juice. 

“Firstly; it’s called elephant toothpaste. Secondly, it’s hard keeping them focused in class. Half of the kids already make colored fire!” Taking the juice from him when he’s done, you take a sip. “I mean, I could do normal lessons. But it would bore everyone.”

“How about boring lessons all week but on Friday you do fun stuff like chocolate paperwork or something.” The suggestion is obvious but you take it down all the same, writing that in the corner of a paper to look at when you get back from the mission. 

“Oh, and since classes are canceled because of the incident, we could leave for Chicago now. If you’d like.” 

“Oh man, would I? Let’s go, Summers!” Slapping his shoulder, you run out of the room and head up to pack your bags. 

—

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask while Scott flies the jet. It’s impossibly quiet inside, the unattended chairs and lack of chatter were almost foreign with missions. You’d been walking around, messing with straps, and threatening to turn a chair into water. It didn’t take a genius for Scott to tell you were talking about Logan’s seat. 

“You always are,” He hums and you grin, messing up his hair. He grabs your hand after a second and kisses the back of it before you move to take a seat next to him again. 

Sighing, you kick your feet up on the control panel, careful to not actually press any buttons. “I don’t know your eye color,” You admit, staring at him. Even though you’ve been dating for nearly three years, you’ve yet to see his eyes behind those red frames. You also haven’t seen any childhood photos of him. 

“They’re blue,” He answers with a smile. “I have blue eyes, Alex said they’re blue like the sky. I think they’re blue like Florida oceans.” 

“Blue,” You softly echo, staring at him. “I always thought they were brown.” He laughs and shakes his head. It makes sense, you think. Because of course, he’d have blue eyes, how could you picture him any different? 

“What about yours?” He asks. “It’s hard to tell colors,” You tell him, describing your eyes in the way that you view them. Correlating beautiful things to the shade. “That makes sense. I thought they were gold because of your mutation and that’s what Ororo had told me.”

“Oh, I wish!” You shout. “I’d be so cool, you couldn’t stay away from me if they were.” 

“I can’t stay away from you now,” You chuckle nervously, looking away from him and he just smiles. That asshole just smiles. “I love you, I hope you know that.” He continued just to see your reaction. 

“Yippee,” You respond and immediately cover your face. “Summers, take those glasses off and kill me.” It’s a near beg as you scream into your hands. You, a grown adult, had just uttered the word yippee following a declaration of love from your boyfriend. Oh, how prepubescent. How… emotionally stunted. Oh my god, you’re no better than the other X-men. 

This, this is your trauma. This is what you’ll look back upon and shiver, pushing it deep down in your memories as if it was bad food at a family gathering and the trash was nearly full. 

“I meant,” You shudder. “I love you, too, Summers.”

“Wanna try with my first name?” He asks and you groan. He blinks over at you, his eyebrows clearly raised at your antics. 

“Give them an inch and they’ll ask for a mile!” You joke. “I love you, Scott.” You finally say, looking back at him. He bites his lip as he smiles and you lick yours, nearly forgetting that he’s flying a jet and should not be distracted. Looking away, you see Chicago in the distance and remind yourself that the mission comes first. 

Go, X-Men, Go!