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supernovafics · 3 months

Note

With your I’ll be there for you series would you be interested in writing about Steve discovering that he has feelings for reader? I think it would be sweet for him to just find even the silliest things she does cute and then him having a little melt down because he realised he’s liked her along. The series is such a great idea! 💭

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drunk!steve, mentions of steve's dad being shitty, angst

summary: in which steve’s drunk and you don’t hesitate to cancel a date to take care of him

author's note: thanks for the request! probably from the moment i started this series/universe i knew that i wanted to have steve realize his feelings first so this request was quite literally perfect for that lol. this is slightly “while you were sleeping” by laufey inspired hence the title. the slow burn is finally starting to come to an end !! (i’m both happy and sad about that lmao) anyways enjoy<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

You were in the middle of debating between a black skirt and a brown plaid one that Robin convinced you to buy when you two went thrifting just a few days ago when the phone rang.

Leaving both options on your bed, you went to the kitchen to answer it, bottomless aside from the stockings you had already put on because of the cold late February weather.

“Hello?”

“Steve?” You recognized his voice for the most part, but he sounded a little different. A little far away, like he was calling from the oldest phone in the universe.

“Oh, hey.” The way he said the simple two words both confused and amused you because it sounded as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other end of the line.

You laughed a bit. “‘Oh, hey’? Don’t sound so disappointed. You called me.”

“I know. Sorry. I meant to call Eddie,” He said, and it was then that you heard what should’ve been obvious from the moment he said “Hello” to you— the way his words weren’t necessarily slurry, just slower than usual.

He was drunk, and you now recognized the voice that you had become so used to hearing since Steve’s sixteenth birthday when he snuck his dad’s whiskey and you both only had two shots of it before feeling it fully.

“Why would you call him? Aren’t you two together right now?” You asked, your confusion taking precedence over the amusement you felt in this moment.

Earlier that day, before you left the apartment to head to your twelve o’clock class, he told you that he was going to tag along with Robin, Vickie, and Eddie to some art show thing after his shift that night at Family Video; you would’ve gone too if you didn’t already have plans for the night.

“Also, I didn’t know that you could get drunk at an art show,” You added. “I’ll definitely make sure to go next time.”

“I didn’t go with them,” He told you, and before you could ask where he was, he answered the unspoken question. “I’m actually at a bar right now.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Very long story. Dad shit. What else is new, right?” Steve answered with a breath of a laugh.

He made his words sound lighthearted and as if whatever happened didn’t really affect him, but you, of course, didn’t see it that way. Without even being with Steve right then, standing in front of him and reading his facial expressions, you still saw through what he was trying to play off as “no big deal.” You’d known him more than long enough to know that anything involving his dad was usually always serious. And whatever shitty things his dad said to him this time around drove Steve to a bar rather than back here to the apartment to frustratingly rant to you, and that only worried you.

“Which bar are you at?” You asked softly.

“The only place in town, other than The Hideout, that doesn’t card,” He said and then immediately continued. “But, wait, don’t come here, though. I don’t want you to come get me. That’s why I was trying to call Eddie. I know you have your date tonight.”

Just for a second— actually, probably the entire time you’d been talking to Steve— you’d forgotten about the date, forgotten about the reason why you’d just been debating which skirt to wear, forgotten about what you were supposed to leave for in twenty minutes. And that slightly surprised you because, for the last couple of days, you’d been really excited about it.

Meeting Jamie felt like a sort of “meet cute” moment that was straight out of a romcom, one that you probably would’ve laughed at because of how cheesy it was. You bumped into him in the hallway on the floor of your apartment. He was your neighbor’s, Miss Johnson’s, nephew, and you learned that even though he went to a college about an hour away, he was trying to visit her more often. He had been in the middle of leaving when you saw him, and you gave a friendly wave and smile at first and he started a conversation with you. You two then spent an hour talking in the hallway before you headed inside your apartment to start studying for a test and he asked for your number, which led to more long conversations over the next few days until he asked you on a date.

In a way, it startled you how giddy you found yourself feeling about him after only those few days, how easily and quickly you liked him. It was the first crush that you had in a while that didn’t feel completely hopeless.

But now all of that was the last thing on your mind. It quickly became pushed to the side because you knew that your best friend needed you.

You shook your head in this moment even though Steve couldn’t see you. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come.”

“No, don’t, don’t. I’ll just call Eddie.”

He’s probably not home right now, was what you wanted to tell Steve, but you refrained from doing so at that moment. Instead, you said, “I’ll call him for you.”

The drunken sigh in relief Steve let out was immediate. “Okay, thanks, I don’t think I have any more change for this payphone, anyway.”

“Okay, just stay put and stop drinking.”

“The bartender already cut me off.”

“Good,” You said before saying a final goodbye to him and hanging up.

You then picked the phone up again to dial a different number. You, of course, didn’t attempt to call Eddie and you instead called Jamie. He was completely understanding when you told him that you had to cancel the date because of an emergency, and he said that you two could do the dinner and movie on a different night, which you quickly agreed on.

You put on the brown plaid skirt— quickly deciding that it looked better with the white top you were wearing, anyway— before slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing your coat, shoving your car keys and wallet into the pockets, and then leaving the apartment.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The drive to Webster’s took less than fifteen minutes and the current emptiness of it didn’t surprise you that much. From the handful of times that you’d gone to the place with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, it became a known fact that things didn’t become “lively” until after ten, and it was currently only a little after nine.

You spotted Steve sitting on a stool at the counter, head down in his folded arms. You sat in the empty seat next to him and tapped the side of his shoulder until he sat up and looked at you.

“Glad to know you’re alive, Harrington.”

He smiled at you and you gave him a small smile back, he must have forgotten that he’d told you not to come to the bar.

“I feel barely alive, actually.”

“Still counts.”

Steve only looked at you for a moment, taking notice of what you were wearing beneath your unzipped coat.

“You look nice,” He said and then seemed to realize something and his smile dropped. “Wait, shit, your date. You shouldn’t be here right now.”

“It’s fine. We’re just gonna reschedule it.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at him. “No, don’t be. It’s just a first date, anyway. Your drunk ass needing a ride home is obviously more important than that.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?”

“Yes, you should,” You told him and then watched with furrowed brows as he went to grab the short glass that was in front of him, half full of some dark liquor. He was about to finish what was left in the glass, but you grabbed it from him before he could. “Steve.”

“I still had this from before I called you. I can’t finish it?”

“No, because if you end up throwing up in my car on the drive home, I will have to murder you.”

You looked away from him before he could say anything in response to that and waved at Barry, the usual bartender that you became on a first name basis with after your third time going to Webster’s. Since it was the farthest thing from busy right then, he immediately walked over to you two.

“Hey, Barry, can he have some water?”

He nodded and filled up a glass, sliding it over to Steve and then looking at you. “Glad to see you here. He’s looked like a sad little lost puppy for the past hour.”

Steve stopped mid-sip to scoff. “That’s very not true.”

“Sorry, but I think I have to believe the only other sober person here,” You said and only smiled at the second annoyed scoff he let out, which was hard to take seriously because of his current drunkenness.

Barry got called over by a group of people that just walked in and you silently watched Steve take a few sips from his glass. When he set it down, you lightly nudged his knee with yours. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with your dad?”

Steve simply sighed at first. “He came to Family Video today and went on this huge rant about me and what I’m doing with my life. He thinks my job is shit, and even me going to school part-time isn’t enough. He thinks I’m such a loser in comparison to his friend’s kids who are actually “doing things with their lives.””

You frowned and shook your head. “Fuck him.”

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a small laugh and held up his glass of water for a second. “He also said that he wants to set me up with this job at his friend’s insurance company, and I immediately said no to that. I’m still not entirely sure what I wanna do yet, but I know it’s not that— some stupid fucking desk job. Especially not one that’s just given to me by my dad.”

“He’s an idiot,” You told Steve. “And also his bullshit is not at all worth the hangover you’ll have in the morning.”

“You might be right about that,” He responded, eyes fixed on his now half-empty glass of water and a small amused smile on his face. “But, it felt good for a second.”

You poked his arm so that he would look at you. “You could’ve talked to me about all of that instead of coming here.”

“I didn’t wanna mess up your date by coming home and talking to you about all of this sad shit. I knew that you’d just worry about me and probably not go,” He mumbled. “And I feel like a dumbass for still messing it up.”

“It’s okay. Seriously. Honestly,” You told him and then playfully smiled as you said your next words. “And you know that I would tell you if it wasn’t okay. I’d definitely hold this over you for at least a week, and force you to clean out Harold’s cage and do my laundry that’s been building up for the past week and a half. But you’re drunk and sad, and I’m way too nice to make you do any of those things.”

He laughed at that, which made you smile wider. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” You said before you stood up from the stool you’d been sitting in. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before it starts getting crowded. Can you walk okay?”

Steve only nodded in response, which was a nonverbal answer that you weren’t sure if you completely trusted, so you stood close to him as he also got up and pulled some cash out of his back pocket and placed it on the counter.

He then waved at Barry, and you were certain that he probably didn’t mean for it to be so animated and comical, but it very much looked that way. “Goodnight, Barry.”

The bartender laughed a bit when he looked over at you and Steve. “‘Night, guys.”

Steve started heading toward the door first and you followed just a few steps behind him. When he stumbled a bit before even making it out of the door, you grabbed his hand and moved closer to him so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders, and then one of yours circled around his waist.

Leading him to your car was a feat in itself, but once he was settled in the passenger seat and you started driving, he rolled his window down completely and had it like that during the entire ride even though it was freezing cold outside, and that was worse than dealing with his stumbling.

When you made it to the apartment building, his balance was actually a bit more coherent so you didn’t need to do more than just hold his hand during the entire walk to the elevators and then down the hallway to the apartment.

You dragged him to your room and he sighed in contentment when he sat down on the side of your bed; he always liked your mattress better than his own for some reason.

“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” You told him before heading over to his room and grabbing a random t-shirt and basketball shorts from one of his drawers. “Here, put this on. I know you’d be mad at me if I let you fall asleep in those jeans.”

“Thanks,” He mumbled with a yawn as you handed the clothes over to him, and then you went to the kitchen as he started changing.

You filled a mug with water and then pulled open the drawer that had the bottle of aspirin in it. Neither you nor Steve were really sure why it lived there instead of in one of your bathrooms, where it probably should’ve been, but you two also didn’t make any effort to move it.

Steve was already asleep and under the covers when you walked back into your room, and you placed the mug and aspirin on the nightstand on his side. You changed into your own pajamas for the night, which simply consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts, before settling in on your side of the bed.

It was still pretty early for a Friday night, barely even ten o’clock, but you didn’t mind going to bed because you were actually a little tired. Steve was turned and facing away from you, but you still watched him and his even breathing for a bit, making sure he was okay before you quickly drifted off to sleep yourself.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he could tell that it was pretty early because he could see the just sun starting to rise.

The other things he quickly noticed were that he was in your bed and he had a pounding headache, which was a little confusing at first, but then all of what happened last night started coming back to him.

The shit with his dad, the bar, the accidental phone call to you, and then you coming to the bar and bringing him home— he remembered it all.

With a soft groan, Steve slowly sat up in bed, doing his best not to wake you, and then reached over to grab the water and aspirin you left out for him.

He took the medicine and drank most of the water and then laid back down, turning on his side to face you. Your head was against the pillow and even breaths fell from your slightly parted lips. You looked so peaceful like this, he decided, so pretty.

Steve thought about you and Jamie, and how happy you had been when you talked about him. Steve also knew how excited you’d been about the date, and even though you had told him that it was okay that you had to cancel it last night, he still felt a little bad about it all.

He knew that you would probably do anything for him, and that was completely mutual. If the roles had been reversed last night, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about canceling a date to go pick you up from some dumb bar. And making those sorts of sacrifices for one another never felt like a question, it just always felt like the obvious thing to do.

It didn’t completely make sense at first, but somehow it was that simple and crystal clear thought that managed to shift something deep down inside of him— it harshly drew the line between best friends and something more. And Steve quickly realized exactly which side he lay on.

Which was confusing because the lines of where your friendship began and ended had always felt so unquestionable— you and him were best friends; nothing more, nothing less.

But it was different now, it changed, and it was this moment that told him that it actually had been that way for a while; probably since you two moved into the apartment.

Starting from that day in August your lives became even more intertwined with one another— which didn’t feel entirely possible because of how close you’d been for so long— but it was true. He hadn’t realized how blurry the lines had been getting since then.

Since you two started beginning your days and ending them in the same home. Since so many nights became spent in each other’s beds; nothing more happening than sleeping and late night talking, but still. Since you two got Harold only a few weeks into living in the apartment, and you both immediately fell into your unserious parental roles in the hamster’s life. Since an unspoken early morning weekend routine fell into place where Steve would make coffee and toast and you’d do the eggs and bacon. Since you two became something equivalent to a married couple that had been together for at least twenty years.

And then Steve realized that actually maybe this something more had always been there— maybe it had always been so fucking obvious.

He thought back to the end of Senior year when you two went to each other’s proms and slow danced at the end of the night because you both thought it would be funny, but those moments actually turned into something really sweet and wholesome; and you’d both think back on it during the most randomest of times.

And then he also thought about smaller things, the parts of your personality that made him feel so goddamn lucky to know you. How you always fiddled with the radio and never settled on a station for longer than a few minutes during perhaps any car ride where Steve was the one driving; something that you’d been doing since the day he got his driver's license and you two went on your first solo car ride together. How pretty much anything you did would only make him smile and playfully roll his eyes or make fun of you.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was having this sort of “epiphany moment” right here, right now, in your bed as he looked at you peacefully sleeping next to him.

It, of course, stemmed from you canceling something that he had known you’d been looking forward to for the last couple of days to instead take care of him, he could recognize that. But, what made that so different from everything else you’d done for each other over the years?

He immediately thought that maybe there was no one straight answer to that question because it wasn’t about what was different. Instead, it was about all of those other moments too. They had slowly built upon each other until it came to this one on this February morning— nine years into your friendship and six and a half months into you two living together— and Steve could finally recognize what it all had meant, and he was ready to accept the truth for what it was too.

He liked you. More than liked, actually. He loved you, he was in love with you.

But, you were also his best friend, the most important person in his life, and he didn’t want to be the reason that that ever got messed up. And that thought was what made him finally look away from you and mutter out a soft, “Fuck.”

Steve quickly got out of the bed, and he was surprised, but also completely grateful, that his quick and hasty movements didn’t manage to stir you awake.

He left your room and went to the kitchen. It was early and he probably should’ve been trying to get a few more hours of sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore.

The realization was the only thing on his mind— in a matter of seconds, it managed to completely consume it.

Everything else that had been happening the past few months finally made complete sense; Steve saw it all in a different way. He now understood why he couldn’t picture any sort of future with Vanessa when he went out with her a few times back in December even though he really did like her, and why he couldn’t see anything with anyone he went out with. Because deep down, he knew that he could only see that with you. It made sense why his dating life had been in such a rut lately and why he didn’t particularly mind it all that much.

When you two would jokingly say that you both were completely okay with ending up “alone together forever,” he realized now that from his side of things, deep down, it had never been a joke. And he wondered if it was the same way for you.

In an ideal world, the answer would be yes. But, things only felt confusing, and if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he didn’t know if that answer was yes in this world.

Steve knew that you really liked Jamie, even in such a short amount of time, so that couldn’t mean that you had any sort of feelings for him. Right? Or maybe you just hadn’t had your own “epiphany moment” yet? Should he tell you about his? Should he tell you about any of what just hit him in the past ten minutes?

His brain felt as if it was going to fucking explode with all of the questions circling his mind right then, and the coffee he was making failed to distract his thoughts from everything.

He came to the quick decision that he wouldn’t tell you what he was feeling; it would just be easier that way. There wouldn’t be any way for him to potentially fuck things up between you two if he simply ignored what he was feeling. It was easy to imagine how drastically your friendship would change if he told you everything and you didn’t feel the same. Therefore, he could push it all away to make sure that nothing changed for the worse.

When the coffee was done, he poured some into a fresh mug and took a long sip. Any other time, he couldn’t really stand straight black coffee, but the bitterness tasted good for once; he decided to focus on that instead of anything else.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been leaning back against the counter and sipping from his mug before you came out of your room. It could’ve been one minute or ten; right then, time felt as if it was moving both slow and fast.

“Hey,” You said, giving him a small smile and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. “I’m surprised you’re up already. I definitely expected you to be passed out until at least ten.”

It felt equivalent to a light switch flipping how quickly Steve felt affected by your smile and simply you in that moment. He’d probably seen you like this a million times before— just waking up and still in your now wrinkled pajamas from the night— but it felt entirely different now. And that was when he knew how fucked he was.

“Yeah, I, uh, I woke up and couldn’t, um, go back to sleep… So, yeah, just came out here. Made some, um, coffee,” He ultimately responded and then inwardly sighed at how flustered he was right then. He let out a quick laugh. “Sorry, blame the hangover for my inability to say sentences right now.”

If that was how he was going to act around you from now on, he knew that trying to keep this a secret was probably the most unrealistic idea ever.

You laughed a bit and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his awkwardness right then, and opened up the fridge. “You think you can stomach eggs and bacon?”

“Yes to the bacon, but I think I should play it safe and say no to the eggs.”

“Makes sense,” You said, closing the fridge after grabbing the bacon. You placed the pack on the counter near the stove and then looked at Steve. “You feeling better about all of that dad shit?”

It was almost comical how even though it had been the reason for everything that happened last night, the conversation he had with his dad was the farthest thing from his mind now.

“I’m good, actually.”

“Good,” You said, smiling at him and then reaching out to grab his hand and give it a light reassuring squeeze; which, unknown to you, made his heart feel as if it was going to somersault out of his chest. “Remember, the next time this happens, come to me and we both can get drunk here for free. Or we can just run away and join the circus, or whatever it was we agreed on when we were twelve.”

Steve only nodded and gave you a small smile in response because it felt as if that was all he could do at that moment. If he attempted to say anything, he felt like his words would’ve started or ended with, “I’m in love with you.”

He changed his decision then. He knew that he had to tell you everything because it wouldn’t be easy to simply bury it down and ignore it. There was no way that he’d be able to keep this from you, at least not for a long time, it was already swallowing him whole. And although he had no idea when or how he would tell you the truth, he made a quick promise to himself that he would do it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #stranger things smut

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suspiciouscharacter1895 · 3 months

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Good Omens Fic List

At this point, I have produced 11 13 Good Omens fics. If that's the sort of thing you enjoy, peruse my catalog! All these are Crowley/Aziraphale, and most feature angst, cathartic love confessions, and smut (though not all). Have a suggestion? Love one of them? Let a girl know. I love doing this, and I love connecting with people who care about this universe as much as I do. I truly hope you enjoy!

See AO3 for full tags.

No Nightingales (T, 14.7k) Post S2 - It's been a year since Aziraphale left Crowley on Earth and neither of them are faring very well. A moment of crisis brings them together again, and this time it's up to Aziraphale to save Crowley. Plot heavy, mature themes but no sexual content.

Whatever You Want (E, 3.5k) Smutty little sequel to No Nightingales but can absolutely be read as a standalone. Aziraphale works through some guilt and Crowley works through some wish fulfillment. Gentle and loving first time.

Something I Can Do For You (E, 3.2) Post-bullet catch (1941), Aziraphale grapples with the implications of realizing he is in love with his best friend. Lighthearted, loving, slightly desperate first time.

Quite Sure (E, 2.7k) Can be imagined as a sequel to Something I Can Do for You, but doesn't rely on it in any way. Established relationship set 10 years after the bullet catch. Considers when Crowley fell for Aziraphale, featuring meditations on the whole thing with Job and sweet lovemaking, with Aziraphale taking care of Crowley.

Worship in the Bedroom (E, 3.6k) Post-S2 - Aziraphale is back from Heaven and he and Crowley are hiding from Heaven and Hell. No plot really, but lots of worshipful, healing, sensual sex, with Crowley working through some angst and being cared for as he deserves.

The Whole Darn World Seemed Upside Down (E, 5.2k) Post-S1 - Crowley has unresolved feelings he needs to work through. If only he were good at the whole vulnerability thing. Angst and mild conflict, followed by love confessions and...well you know.

Tempt Me (E, 6k) Set in an unspecified future when they figure it all out and are happy together. A fun little romp with Aziraphale being very into Crowley tempting him. Like VERY into it. Light dom/sub elements.

If You Like (E, 4.4k) Set the night of the failed S1 Armageddon. Aziraphale goes back to Crowley’s flat and both of the boys are forced to deal with some long-repressed feelings. If only they were better at talking. Angst-heavy, especially for Crowley.

Worth Knowing (E, 3.6k) Sequel to If You Like set after the Ritz. Aziraphale thought everything would change after they slept together, but everything seems to have gone back to normal. If Crowley isn't going to do anything about that, Aziraphale will. Happy ending! Loving, soft, sweet, love confessions.

Flashes of Love (G, 3.2k) NO SEX TOTALLY WHOLESOME. Set a few weeks after the averted Second Coming (which all worked out fine) in a world where they are happy and together. Aziraphale has an inkling that Crowley may be able to sense and share angelic love in a way most demons can’t. Crowley agrees to give it a shot.

Forgive Me (E, 1.6k) LOTS OF SEX NOT AT ALL WHOLESOME. Post S2 - Aziraphale muses on what he should want from Crowley, and what he actually wants. Both rough and gentle sex follows, entirely imagined by Aziraphale. Heavy angst, please check tags.

My Angel (E, 2k) Companion to Forgive Me, from Crowley's perspective. Pieces can be read in either order or independently. What he should want his first time with Aziraphale to be, and what he actually wants. Both rough and gentle sex follows, entirely imagined by Crowley. Heavy angst.

Might As Well Do It Properly (E, 5.7k) What if Shax and the demon horde didn't show up at Aziraphale's Regency ball? Maybe Aziraphale would use some leftover magic in the air to do something he's been meaning to do for a long time. Gentle, loving first time (with dancing!).

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens 2 #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce

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sprout-fics · 3 months

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Mayday Mayday Chapter One: Bravo Going Down

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Medic "Fix" Reader)

Part Six of Snowblind

Rating: Mature Themes Wordcount: 5.1k Tags: Slow Burn, Bad Flirting, Whump, Blood and Injury, Active Combat Scenarios, Teammates to ??? to Lovers, Angst, Banter Warnings: Crashes, Descriptions of blood and injury A/N: Special thank you to @gazs-blue-hat , @laeilaps , and @vampirekilmerfic for the research and development of this installment! and thank you to everyone still reading despite the large gap in updates.

It’s a starless night when your helicopter gets shot down.

The ride to your destination is a long one. The ever-present roar of helicopter blades is the only sound you seem to hear in the darkness of the chopper, sandwiched between two larger marines who seem to check and recheck their gear every five minutes. They chatter in small exchanges over comms, barks of laughter to cover up the anxious energy caught between the darkness of the thumping blades above. There’s a tense, heavy atmosphere in the cabin that pulses between you all, a pent-up focus prowling just inside its cage, waiting to be released into the thick of battle. You feel it as much as they do, grounded only by the tap of your fingers in a steady rhythm against your weapon, running and re-running the attack plan in your mind as the marines around you shift with taut, scarcely contained energy.

They’d sat behind you during the briefing, watching attentively as Laswell detailed the fly-by-night mission to hunt down an AQ cell holed up in the dry desert mountains. Normally such a cell would be swiftly dealt with using air support, but in this instance Laswell needed one of the majors hidden inside the mountain bunker alive for interrogation. It’s high-risk, high-reward business, and the gravity of the mission isn’t lost on you.

The marines seemed surprised to find you second in command of this mission, shifting uneasily with low tones as Laswell announced it so. You were surprised yourself at the arrangement, considering the leading CO that stood broad-shouldered and heavy-stared before them as Laswell went over the approach. With Price off-duty and nursing a sprained shoulder from the team’s last deployment, and Soap and Gaz on an assignment of their own, the mantle had fallen to you to be partnered with the team’s one and only lieutenant.

It doesn’t sit well with your fellow American troops, you can tell. They’d expected one of their own to be second in command, especially considering your medic designation. Yet when one of them had dared voice such an opinion, his fellows snickering behind your back, Ghost had barked at them a snarling, low reprimand that quickly silenced any and all objections.

Now Ghost sits across from you, legs spread wide enough that the soldiers on either side of him have to compact their spaces to allow him room. You see the way they’re a little tense, a little intimidated by his size and presence. You can hardly blame them. Ghost has been quiet aside from a few orders for the entire ride so far, and you’re not sure whether to be grateful or unsettled by his silence.

Things have been...odd since you got back.

You’d been given all of a week to settle at base before the team was tasked with a flurry of missions- all short and swift deployments that left you with plenty of leftover energy to spend on the rest of the team. You’d been concerned about integrating yourself back into the group after such a long stint away, but fortunately the team had accepted you back with open arms. It had taken time to catch up with the most recent intel, and even then Price had insisted on putting you through your paces with training and other exercises to ensure your skills were still fresh. With Soap and Gaz at your side, it was a relatively easy task to tackle the list of training exercises your CO had tasked you with, buoyed by the boy-ish, lighthearted energy of the other two sergeants.

To test your revitalized skillset, Price often designated you to Ghost’s squad during deployments, trusting his second in command to sharply and swiftly correct any blunders on your part- of which there had mercifully been few. More than that, you seemed to flourish under the command of Ghost, quickly ceding to orders and swift with your deliverance. It had garnered you several rare instances of praise from the Brit, spoken quietly and perfunctory over comms, quick enough that you had to pause and ensure you had heard him right. When you had offered bits of banter over the radio, Ghost had surprisingly indulged in your humor, leaving you grinning even during ex-fil and almost giddy with the oddly fluttering feeling in your chest.

As if that wasn’t odd in itself, Ghost seemed...different than you remember off the field. More than once you’d caught him staring at you across the rec room between missions, dark eyes boring into you as if you were something to be studied. He sometimes sought you out himself to relay a message as opposed to using the team’s designated chat log, offering the excuse that he’d been nearby anyways. His gaze always managed to catch yours when you entered a room, and despite the man never smiling, you always saw the glimmer of recognition there as you caught his stare, as if he was anticipating your arrival.

You told yourself he was just looking out for you, as his duty as your superior, but the truth of it felt...more than that. Ghost was never one to go out of his way for his teammates, always offering the bare minimum of what was required of him to keep the task-force functioning. You know his past, mysterious and intriguing as it is, prevented him from truly bonding with the rest of the team. To him you were all co-workers, soldiers, but not brothers in the way you thought of them.

Yet it was Ghost who tossed you an extra water bottle after training, who had nodded to the weights someone stashed in the gym when you looked for them, who had given you his full attention as you stood before him and checklisted your gear for him before mission, who looked out for you at the bar and escorted you back to the barracks on the night of your return...

It made you wonder if there was a man behind the mask after all.

You dance around each other in fleeting glances and quiet words, and the meaning of it all is contained in the distance between you. You never touch, never dare to scrape against the soot-dark form of him, but you feel the presence of him at your back all the same. Watching, guarding, a sentinel that you can’t find yourself to venture far from. You lay awake at night ruminating over the way he says your name, ‘Fix’ like it’s his mother-tongue, a word so inherent to his language that it makes you feel like you were born to belong there against his lips.

Now, in the darkness of the helicopter, Ghost basks in the wash of red light overhead. His arms are crossed, weapon at rest between his legs as he awaits the slow downturn of motion that signals your approach. When you catch his eyes, the Brit tilts his head at you, heavy helmet and night vision goggles shifting expectantly.

You smile at him a little nervously, feeling the return of taut anticipation flowing through your veins as the hour of your hunt inevitably draws closer.

“Good night for a hunt, eh LT?” You venture cautiously, feeling one of the marines beside you tense. Nobody has dared to say a word to Ghost for the entire journey so far, and instantly all the attention in the cabin seems to land on you and your hesitant, clever smile.

Ghost blinks at you, doesn’t move an inch from where he’s seated. In the dim, red light of the hold you can barely make out his half-lidded, lazy stare as he regards you. Unbothered, unlike the men around him, he huffs a small sound before replying.

“Can’t see shit on a night like this.” Is all he offers brusquely. It’s enough.

“Well that’s what night vision is for. Anyone ever tell you you look good in green, sir?”

Shit.

You instantly clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words you just spoke hang heavy in the space between you, and the silence that follows is deafening. You wince internally, struggling to contain your expression as a dozen eyes regard you- gawking at your brazen flirtation you just offered to your fucking CO.

You want to crawl six feet under.

You can make out the whites of Ghost’s eyes in the darkness, surprised and taken aback. It takes him a moment to collect himself, eyes hardening and words steely.

“Spend less time gawking and more time watching the rest of your squad, sergeant.” Ghost tells you pointedly, though it’s without true malice. You contain a cringe at the reprimand, wanting nothing more than to groan into your hands at your own foolishness.

Yet your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, because before you can stop yourself, you reply with a “Gawking isn’t the word I’d use, LT.”

The private beside you sucks in a deep, trembling breath.

“Is that right?” Ghost’s eyes are suddenly sharp as they pin you to where you sit. “What word would you use, then, sergeant?”

Christ alive, just send you home in a body bag.

You feel your mouth open and close a few times, desperately trying to find the words, any words with which to salvage the rapidly spiraling conversation. You should really shut up, offer a murmured apology and keep yourself silent for the rest of the mission, but the eyes of the other soldiers stare unblinkingly at you as you finally find your voice.

“Looking...respectfully? Sir.” You manage, a little strangled.

The marine on the other side of you snorts. Ghost glares at him, and the man clears his throat before avoiding the Brit’s gaze.

“’Respectful’ isn’t the word I’d use for your behavior right now.” Ghost warns, low and dark, and you sit up straighter just by his tone alone. “I’d suggest you find a way to sort that mouth of yours before we drop in.”

“Speaking of-” A different voice interrupts, and even the pilot seems a little perturbed by your conversation. “Approaching target. Five minutes out.”

That seems to divert everyone’s attention well away from you and towards the mission at hand. Mercifully, Ghost draws the attention of everyone on board as he stands and clutches at the ceiling to steady his massive form.

“Listen up.” He barks, a dozen eyes looking towards the source of the deep, growling Manchester accent as it repeats the name of the asset you’re after. “That’s our target, needed alive. You know your orders. Keep this op clean, understood? No fucking body bags.”

A chorus of ‘Yes Sir!’s joins your own voice. Ghost seems to take up all the space from floor to ceiling as he nods, begins again-

A sound catches your attention, a distant fizzle that you manage to hear above Ghost’s booming voice. You open your mouth, a warning on your lips-

“RPG!!” The co-pilot yells just as the alarm blares, and suddenly the heli tilts, launching you violently against your straps as the pilot takes evasive maneuvers. The cabin descends into a chaotic flurry of voices as the marines react, trying to process suddenly being under enemy fire.

What happens next takes only seconds.

The sudden change of axis has Ghost stumble, one hand clenched in a white knuckle grip against the ceiling. You can hear the rocket above the growing alarm just as it whooshes past the hull, missing the chopper by mere feet. The blades whine above you, straining as the pilots try to right the heli, grunting over the comms. Garbled radio traffic is drowned out by the groan of the chopper, and the sudden gasp that tears from your own throat as you instinctively suck in air.

Yet just as it seems the chopper rights itself, you hear another sound outside. The two pilots' voices drown out each other as a second alarm screeches, and you manage to catch Ghost’s shocked eyes just as the sound of the incoming missile reaches a shrieking whistle. You open your mouth to holler at him to get back in his seat, and you see him move in the same direction, finding his balance and stretching out the hand not attached to the ceiling-

“Deploying flares-!”

“Hang on!!”

The RPG catches the flares on the outside of the hull, but the impact is close enough it throws the heli sideways, sending the bird into a tailspin. You watch in horror as Ghost instantly loses the balance he’s collected, hand slipping from the ceiling as he’s hurled up into the overhead so hard you hear a crack even past the roar of the straining blades. If it’s your voice that screams for him, you aren’t sure, but instantly you’re reaching for your straps, fumbling in an attempt to reach him. Your hands shake, breathing shallow and rapid, world spinning endlessly as the pilots struggle to contain the bird into a controlled descent. There’s voices yelling above the claxon, screaming orders, but yours is silent, heart hammering as you try desperately to remember how to breathe.

Ghost slides limply across the floor, head lolling.

You yell as you reach for him, fingers barely scraping his helmet and night vision goggles, unable to catch a grip. Yet the two marines across from you holler over the comms, one set of hands and then the other managing to find the edges of Ghost’s tac vest and hauling him with tremendous effort up into his seat across from you. Just as they manage to secure him, the pilot’s voice once again yells over the comms, barely audible as the helicopter groans and shrieks and the alarms blare deafening in your ears. Everything is spinning, turning on a dizzying axis you can’t find the balance to. You’re not sure which way is up, trying vainly to track the ground growing closer through the window next to Ghost’s slouched form.

“Mayday, mayday, this is Bravo going down-”

“EVERYONE BRACE!!”

You shut your eyes, hands in a death grip on your seat straps. Your jaw clenches so hard you can feel your teeth grinding, but the sound is obliterated by the catastrophic groan of the heli around you. There’s no time to do anything else except pray, and you try to remember the hymns and blessings taught to you by your mother all that time ago- having lost them when faced with a God that didn’t care about the suffering and the damned.

Fuck. You think for a half-heartbeat, the G-force of the spin forcing your head against the wall before you manage to tuck it forward. Blood rushes in your ears, and you catch a glimpse of Ghost before you, body leaning as the inertia drags at him. I never got to tell him-

The impact is catastrophic.

It forces all the air up from the bottom of your lungs in a wheezing gasp, tossing you violently against your seat straps. The force of it digs sharply against your ribs, painful and horrific as your entire body is hurled about like a rag-doll. You have no doubt if you weren’t secured you’d go flying against the interior of the bird, likely breaking your neck and leaving your body to rot in the dry desert sand. The bird groans desperately around you, tilting dangerously so your feet tilt up towards your head, the blades thumping at the sand once, twice, before getting caught and going still. Even then, the chopper slides another dozen meters, threatening to roll over completely before you at last come to a shuddering stop.

It’s automatic when you start counting in your head. One, two, three- Your training instinctively kicks in. Wait for the debris to settle, check for fuel leaks-

As soon as you reach five you fumble for your buckle, clawing at it in an attempt to free yourself as your voice rises over the groans and wheezing gasps of the men around you. It takes a few attempts to get enough air into your lungs to yell to your team, feeling your chest struggle for oxygen as your heart races up into your throat.

“Report.” You manage, voice cracking with grit and sand just as your hands find your buckle, one arm bracing yourself on the wall behind and below you. The lights flicker. In the darkness of the desert, the stars obscured, you can scarcely make out the bulky figures of your comrades in the cabin- similarly trying to free themselves. The chopper seems to have rolled onto its side somehow, as you find yourself with your legs higher than your head, the forms of the marines around you all but dangling from their straps from where the ceiling should be. There’s a brunt, singed metal type of smell that instantly has your gut coil with the instinct to go, move, clear out-

A few breathless murmurs, and after a moment another voice in the darkness.

“We’re good here, sarg!”

You breathe a sigh of relief at that, until-

A groan, loud and low, somewhere towards the ramp.

“I-it’s Johnson! His helmet is off!”

“LT is unresponsive!”

“I think the pilots are dead!”

Fuck.

You don’t stop to consider the possibilities of what that means. Fear claws at your chest, and you give yourself a breath to stubbornly swallow it down. You know that panic is a death sentence in this situation, and losing your head means endangering not only yourself, but the rest of your team.

You run through your options as fast as you can, knowing every second could be a grain of sand in a rapidly draining hourglass.

The helicopter can’t fly. It’s dead. The comms may still work, and no doubt the crash alarm has signaled the base about the nature of the situation. Yet it’s unclear if the chopper is sound. You can’t smell smoke yet, but you know the mangled mess of metal may change at any moment, sparking with fire and consuming you all in one bright blaze. Even if that’s not the case, it doesn’t solve the fact that the RPGs had to have come from somewhere nearby. The window to evacuate shortens by the second, and so you raise your voice in the darkness, drawing the attention of the others.

“Everyone out!” You bark, finally unclasping your buckle and feeling gravity drag you down, gear and all. “Check your squad, make sure nobody is left behind!”

It takes effort with the weight of your supplies to force yourself up above the seats, feeling bodies around you do the same. Fortunately the wreckage feels stable, even if the tremble in your limbs has yet to settle. Your chest doesn’t seem to expand enough to suck in all the air you need as you fumble in the darkness, eyes drawn to the gaping hole where the tail of the helicopter used to be.

Your hand lands on the closest arm you can reach, feeling the other soldier startled in the flickering darkness. “You.” You manage, throat dry. “Help me get the pilots.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You precariously balance as you turn, catching the slumped figure of Ghost out of the corner of your eye and watching with blessed relief as he raises his head a few inches.

Thank God. You think with an exhale of utter gratitude. He’s alive.

Yet the task at hand remains, and as Ghost is balanced between the shoulders of two marines, scarcely lucid, you turn towards the flight controls, a younger corporal just behind you.

There’s shattered glass at the windshield, and it allows the nighttime wind to breeze inside, sand spilling over the cracked panels and monitors. A red light flickers erratically overhead, illuminating the limp forms of the two pilots. It’s not an easy undertaking to wrestle free the two unresponsive men- one of them sticky with what you assume is blood as you haul them towards the exit carved by your landing. You’re not even sure they’re alive, but you’ll be damned if you leave them after their miraculous mid-air recovery that likely saved the rest of you.

“Damn good pilot, Smith.” The marine grunts beside you as he shoulders the pilot and makes towards the exit. “Sure hope this sonofabitch made it.”

You silently wish the same, hauling the co-pilot by his straps backwards with you, nearly tumbling twice before mercifully making it towards the hatch someone has kicked free. You can hear garbled words over the radio, and in the blinking light you see a small shower of sparks as the dashboard short-circuits. Thankfully, it doesn’t catch into flame, and you at last make it onto gritty desert sand with the limp form of the co-pilot atop you.

Two soldiers on either side of you manage to hoist him up and allow you to scramble to your feet. It’s the first time you’re able to take stock of the situation now that you’re free, heart thumping against your ribs and form trembling from the adrenaline still pumping fresh through your veins.

Good God.

The crash looks like something out of a grotesque action film. The tail lays feet away from the rest of the bird, one of the blades sticking straight up into the night sky and the over bent in a mangled wreck only feet away from you. There’s bits of metal and debris strewn around you, smoking and stinking as they’re half buried in the sand.

It’s nothing less than a miracle that you’re standing, bruised and battered as you are.

Twelve of you total, including the pilots. Four of you are standing, another kneeling beside the prone forms of the injured and two more helping to rest the co-pilot next to them. You check yourself, cataloging the various scrapes and bruises you can feel under your gear, and managing a prayer of thanks when you don’t immediately feel anything broken or bleeding.

and in your second breath-

“Where’s the lieutenant?”

“Over here ma’am!”

You turn on a swivel, neatly avoiding the debris as you find Ghost sat halfway up, eyes bleary but focusing upon seeing you.

“Fix.” He offers groggily, and the breathless sound of relief that leaves you is far from subtle. It takes you two steps to kneel before him, a wobbly smile on your face.

“Chopper went down, LT.” You convey quietly.

Ghost gives you a scathing look. No shit. It seems to offer. Were it not for the dire circumstances, you might have even laughed at the utter annoyance in his eyes.

“What’s our status?” He bites, hands limp at his sides and making no motion to inspect himself just yet.

You look at the chopper, rolled halfway on its side, one of the rotors bent and buried deep into the sand. It’s clear it isn’t going to fly again.

“We’re stranded. Emergency beacon went up as soon as the bird went down, but it likely will be a few hours before we see any sort of response- and that’s if they decide to fly despite the RPGs in the area.”

You suck in a breath then, steadying yourself. The truth of the situation begins to wash over you with cold, deathly dread.

“We’re on our own.”

There’s movement behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to where a few of the men have gathered, looking to Ghost for orders. You look to him as well, trying to track his eyes in the darkness. He looks...unsteady. You can tell he’s still trying to get his bearings after blacking out, and briefly it makes you wonder just how severe his concussion is.

“You solid?” You ask him quietly, trying not to draw too much attention from the men hovering anxiously around you both.

“Fine.” Ghost grits, but makes no effort to stand just yet.

Liar.

“What’s our move, Ghost?” One of the other soldiers asks, eyes darting between you to the mission’s designated CO.

Before Ghost can answer, you stand, drawing the attention of everyone including Ghost.

“I want a perimeter around the crash.” You state, settling yourself where you stand. “No doubt the team that crashed us saw us go down. They’re headed our way. Head on a swivel. Let’s make sure we see them before they’re on top of us. Move the wounded to whatever cover you can find. I’ll handle triage. Salvage whatever supplies you can from the helo, but if you smell smoke or fuel you let me know as soon as you do, understood?”

There’s a beat of silence from the men gathered around you, some of them shifting nervously, their eyes flitting between you and Ghost, who looks up at you in a mixture of shock and some sort of irritation you can’t place.

“I said understood?” You bark, making several of the men jump.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good. Now you, and you-” You point out two men at the back of the small huddle. “You’re with me. I need your assist for triage. You two, I want to know what supplies we have left in the helo. Dawson, I want you to radio base and give them a report of our status. See if you can find answers about how long until we see a rescue team. The rest of you, I want you on the perimeter. Now.”

It’s only after the small huddle has dispersed that you turn to Ghost, nearly flinching at the ire there in his eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, sergeant?” He seethes, and you have to swallow down the sudden bout of fright at his tone- dark and furious.

Your hands shake. It’s not rare to encounter Ghost in an annoyed or irritated mood, but what this is right now, the bright blaze of your lieutenant's eyes in the desert darkness, has a warning of danger zipping down your spine and settling low and heavy in your stomach.

No doubt he doesn’t appreciate you overriding him, injured as he is. Ghost is used to calling the shots on missions, and you know it’s a comfortable position for him, not having to rely on others' judgment to ensure his own survival. His own instincts pave the way for his men, allowing them to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. In control, it means he doesn't question his superiors and if they truly have his survival in their interests.

It stings, admittedly, that he doesn’t seem to have that faith in you to make a call when he’s concussed as he is, his eyes still trying to focus on your form above him. You thought by now you might have earned that.

Perhaps you’re wrong about that.

“I’m sorry sir.” You offer at last. “I’m not trying to override your command, but you’re injured-”

“I told you I’m fine.” Ghost snarls, shifting and trying to get his legs under him. It’s a wobbly sort of maneuver, and you resist the urge to aid him, knowing he’d only shrug you off with a growl.

“Ghost.” You manage tightly, trying to swallow down the hurt of his anger. “You’re concussed.”

Ghost pauses then, still glaring at you, but manages to raise himself up to a stand anyways. There’s a beat between you before Ghost is suddenly leaning into your space. You have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact with his higher stature, setting your jaw and trying not to flinch as his eyes burn down into your own.

“I did not give you permission to take command of this mission.” He growls, low and deadly. The vibration of it hums through you, settles low in your gut as a threat that you try vainly to ignore. There’s a natural instinct inside you to automatically defer to Ghost despite his injury, the fact that his pupils are blown completely wide and you think you can see the white edge of his mask tint with something dark and slick that oozes from his head.

You want to tell him you outrank him when it comes to the health and safety of the men, that your status as a medic means you can assess him if he isn’t of sound operational mind. You know his call wouldn’t have varied drastically from your own. Yet you also know that if Ghost perceives you to be a question to his authority the second he gets injured, it means hell for you in any future missions you may be on with him.

It means it might erase any trust you’ve managed to gain from him after all this time.

Ghost towers over you, hands clenched at his sides. You keep your gaze locked on his, trying to maintain a brave face despite the grave warning in his stare.

“Fall in line, sergeant.” He growls, voice bone deep and drumming dark into your skull.

You shouldn’t.

You do.

“Apologies, sir.” You offer in deference as you finally avert your gaze, feeling something liquid hot burn under your skin at the action. “Your orders.”

Ghost seems to relax a bit, shoulders unwinding as he lets out a long, slow exhale. Your own air still feels caught tightly in your chest, your heartbeat thumping like a battered thing between your ribs.

Ghost studies you, and even without meeting his gaze you can tell his stare hasn’t ventured from your form. What he seems to be searching for is unclear, and you restrain the urge to look back up at him, allowing him to see the bitterness in your eyes. He doesn’t need to see how much his lack of faith in you carves something deep and wounded into your skin, a failure in yourself to prove yourself to the man you admire the most.

“Handle triage. I’ll check the perimeter.” He orders abruptly, voice more even now that you’ve ceded to his authority. You nod mutely, not meeting his eyes, feeling a wash of shame and anger warm your face as you avoid his stare.

You turn from him in the direction of the injured men when his voice catches you again.

“Fix.”

You pause, not turning.

Ghost is silent at your back. He seems to be weighing his words, debating with himself. The desert breeze whispers at the bare skin of your neck where his gaze seems to be resting. The flickering red light from the helicopter washes crimson over your form.

“Good call.” Is all he offers, and you blink, lips parting in surprise as he brushes past you brusquely. The moment is gone in an instant as he moves towards the marines with their night vision trained on the horizon, broad and dark against the starless night sky.

Alone in his shadow you wonder why, despite his anger, his words sounded almost trusting.

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Fic Tag: Shadow and Bone

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #Simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x ofc #reader insert #cod x reader #fic: shadow and bone #oc: fix #fic: snowblind

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months

Text

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers.

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being.

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile.

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter.

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back.

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon.

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello.

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake.

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper.

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you.

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.”

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine.

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.”

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.”

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.”

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n

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yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months

Note

Yesss I can finally request!!1!!!

Sorry I just wanted needed to know this 😔

Yan!Archons with a s/o who acts like a mother. Like with Zhongli, the s/o treats Xiao and Qiqi like their children. I feel like most of them would take advantage of it 💀💀

i'm pretty sure i've said it before but i don't particularly want kids but y'all give me awful baby fever D:<

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, uh honestly there isn't much in this one either, other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti thinks it’s cute, seeing the way you interact with the little kids around town. Diona and Klee adore you, loving that you always bring them snacks and treat them with such kindness. It especially warms his heart because he knows how absent their real parents are so he doesn’t mind letting you out of the house more often for their sake. He also won’t deny the absolute baby fever it gives him, the sudden urge to have children of your own taking over his mind entirely.

Venti couldn’t help the smile on his face as he watched you play around with the two girls. They had insisted you help them with their hair, them having messed it up after playing tag in the city. He couldn’t deny the sudden urge to have a child of your own, a sweet little thing that was the perfect mix of the two of you. Archons couldn’t have children with humans though, so for now he was content to watch you interact with the local Mondstat kids, dreaming of the day you could have your own.

Yandere!Zhongli would find you parenting Xiao and QiQi to be quite humorous. He had spent many years trying to parent the angsty boy himself and yet you made much faster progress in a month. QiQi could also be quite the challenge and yet you had the patience of an Archon themself with her. A true gift to him and both the kids.

Zhongli watched as you scolded Xiao for getting hurt again, leaving QiQi to find him and bring him back to BuBu Pharmacy. It was quite funny to see the boy get so flustered, hands fiddling with his polearm. Zhongli had gotten on the boy's case many times about this and he never seemed to take it to heart, but you had a different effect on the male. Even QiQi seemed to naturally trust your judgment despite her forgetful nature. It warmed Zhongli’s heart to see you getting along so well with the two, loving her naturally you seemed to fall into the parental role.

Yandere!Raiden doesn’t see any use in children, after everything with Kunikuzushi she simply has no desire to be in the parental role. She also believes it to be unnecessary for you as the two of you will never have children together. Despite this she will still allow you to interact with the local children, namely Sayu.

Raiden sighed as she saw you playing with the young girl in the courtyard, a lighthearted game of tag being played amongst the two of you. Sayu often came here to hide out from Kano Nana, enjoying the sunlight naps that you two would take or the fun, simple games you’d play. Tag was her favorite but she was also fond of hide and seek as well as eye spy. While Raiden would never outright tell you that she disapproved, she’d never join you either, making it known her opinion from across the way. Her subtle glare and cold shoulder all the proof you need.

Yandere!Furina doesn’t like kids, she thinks that she should be the only one to get your undivided attention and that she’s plenty fun and entertaining. Why do you want to hang out with kids when she's already baby?

An annoyed huff left Furina’s as you continued to interact with the Melusines. You two were supposed to be out on a date together, not hanging out with the Melusines. It was Neuvillette’s job to look after them, not yours! You should be paying attention to her, giving her your love and time and focusing on what she has to say. She’s certainly going to throw a fit if it continues, and even more so if you just try to brush it off. You are Furina’s partner and you should be giving her all your love.

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psychickiss · 10 months

Text

accident

— saiki kusuo x reader (no 3rd person pronouns, 2nd pov)

— summary: You and Saiki partner up for an assignment. Things go... not-smooth. Saiki lets you know he has powers in the worst way possible (to him).

— notes: never beta read hell yeah also there are mentions of cockroaches here and i hate them so its just one not-so-paragraph paragraph

— things: platonic maybe ooc you could see this as romantic whatevs

— masterlist | request form | retrospring

“Oh, Saiki! I didn’t know this was your house.” You smile warmly, but deep down you and Saiki both know that you knew where he lived.

“You’re joking, right? You’ve tagged along with Nendou, Kaidou, and I on the numerous occasions we walked home together.” Was what Saiki wanted to say. However, he couldn’t make any snarky comments at you whatsoever, not with his mother standing behind him.

“Ku? Is this another lovely friend of yours?”

Saiki gives you a blank glance then turns to his mother. “I guess.”

Saiki’s mother approaches you with a smile on her face, you look at her cheery expression then at Saiki’s lack of one. Polar opposites, you think. You quickly introduce yourself.

“You look lovely, Mrs. Saiki. It’s nice to meet you.”

She holds your hand gently and asks, “It’s nice to meet you too! What brings you here?”

You answer her, “I wanted to ask Saiki out.”

Saiki’s mother immediately lets go of your hand and gasps loudly. “On a date?! Do you and my Ku like each other?!”

You laugh awkwardly as you shake your head. “Goodness, no! Saiki doesn’t seem to have a romantic bone in his body.”

Well, you’re right about that. Saiki thinks to himself as he stands quietly while you talk with his mother.

“I just wanted to ask if he has a partner for our summer Pre-Calculus assignment, I was absent when it was assigned and most of the people I know have partners already. I’d text your son, but I don’t have his number– does he even have a phone?”

Saiki takes a step forward, closer to you and his mother. “I don’t have a partner yet, and Nendou wasn’t an option for me. Do you know what the assignment is?”

“If my memory serves me right, Hairo told me we had to find a partner and explain derivatives and anti-derivatives, then cite any problems with real-life situations.”

Saiki exhales, a small smile appears on his face for a second. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look nice at the action, rarely did Saiki smile, after all. You didn’t expect as well that he’d be smiling at you. “Your memory is quite well, then. We can do this in the public library.”

Saiki’s mother turns to him, frowning. “You’re not going to let your friend stay for drinks?”

Saiki shakes his head. “We can get drinks outside, thank you.” He turns to you and says, “Wait a minute. I’ll go grab my stuff. You could... talk to my mom while you wait.”

You shoot him a thumbs up and Saiki nods as well. He says something to his mother before heading up the stairs in their house.

“So, you and Ku are good friends?”

You turn to Saiki’s mother. “You could say that. He’s a pretty chill guy, and he listens to what people have to say.”

Saiki’s mother’s face grows more cheerful than before. “I’m relieved to hear that...! He’s had a hard time making friends with his powers, being psychic and all.”

You laugh, taking every single word as a lighthearted joke. “Is he like Kaidou? I think it’s nice that you play along with his imagination. Ah, I’m sorry! I just went and assumed you knew him.”

Saiki’s mother awkwardly laughs before she answers you, “Mhm, yep! We have talked to Kaidou before, he’s a nice boy. The one with red bandages on his arm. He and Saiki are definitely friends for that!”

You nod. “Yep, he says it’s to “keep his powers at bay,” but we all know it’s fake, and we still play along. Well, some of us.” You point your index finger upwards and position your hands above your head.

“And I bet Saiki’s funky hair clips limit his powers too!” You heartily laugh. You don’t notice the way Saiki’s mother desperately keeps looking back at the stairs, waiting for her son to come down.

Powers? Please.

You see Saiki walking down the stairs and you quickly put your hands down. You ask him, “Shall we go?”

Saiki nods. You two say your goodbyes to his mother before leaving the house.

“Uhm, were you serious about the whole “getting drinks outside” thing?” You ask. Saiki looks at you confused for a second.

Ah. The thing he said to his mother earlier. He answers you, “If you want to. It’s fine by me.”

You shrug. “I could go for some coffee right now. You?”

Saiki stops to walk and looks at you. He doesn’t really know what to reply, so he stays quiet.

“Straight to the library is alright.”

You both walk side-by-side on your way to the library, not saying anything. You aren’t too nervous, and your thoughts are mostly related to the assignment and how you wish to get it completely over with so you could relax. Saiki shares the same sentiment.

You and Saiki finally arrive at the library– it’s quiet and not too crowded, so there were lots of empty seats for you two to occupy. The whole place seemed a little unclean but you two didn’t mind. You both opted for the most secluded area possible.

You sit down and look at the empty chair beside you, then at Saiki, who is still standing up. “You aren’t going to sit down yet?”

Saiki shakes his head. “I’m going to go look for books we could use as references.”

You slowly nod. “Okay, thanks.” Saiki nods back and walks off to search for books.

You place your bag on the table before you and take out the stuff you figured you two would need – ballpens, paper, etc.

...

This assignment is fucking killing me...

“Hey, Kusuo, do you know how many of these we should be writing down?”

“18. With proper citation. APA format. Also, Kusuo?”

You groan. You drop your pen for a second and shake your hand, exhausted from continuous writing and page-turning. 3 problems left...

You say to Saiki, “I didn’t know you were left-handed,” as you cracked your fingers. He nods in response. “Also, calling you by your name just felt natural.”

18 is such a weird number of problems to require, to be honest. I’m glad we don’t have to solve it ourselves.

You exhale and look at your surroundings. Come to think of it, this library looks pretty old. Probably why there aren’t a lot of people today. I’m glad there aren’t any cockroaches.

As you babble on with your thoughts, Saiki stops writing, the thought of a roach interrupting his work mortifies him.

Usually there’d be a roach or two in places like these, especially in Saiki’s and my spot. It’d be pretty funny if one did come crawling or flying around here–

Horrendously perfect timing and the worst of luck bestows you and Saiki as a large cockroach appears itself in front of you, it crawls its disgusting little legs on one of the books next to you.

You and Saiki act immediately and irrationally.

You cover your mouth with one hand to stop yourself from squealing and have an instant grip on Saiki’s sleeve with the other, and;

Saiki, figuring since he’s in a secluded area, teleports far, far away from the cockroach... with you.

...

You stare at your surroundings, slowly lowering your hand from your mouth. Your other hand still on Saiki’s sleeve, you give him a slight pinch.

Good grief. It was Saiki’s turn to stop you from screaming.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!! WHERE ARE WE!!!!!! HOW DID WE GET HERE!!!!!

“Shut up.”

You shakily ask, “Huh? I didn’t say anything... God, don’t tell me you can hear thoughts too...”

Saiki takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

LIAR.

“Fine. I can.”

You step away from him. “Are you... serious?”

Saiki stares at you with the same blank expression he always wore.

Oh my God.

“Does anyone else know? Where are we?”

Saiki answers, “Toritsuka, Aiura, they both have powers, and Akechi, due to his stubbornness and intelligence. I think we are somewhere on the other side of the world... Paris”

“That’s crazy... PARIS?”

Saiki nods.

You smile mischievously, “We should ditch our homework.”

Saiki doesn’t respond. You can feel his judginess through his unwavering stare at you without a word spoken. Jesus, do you blink?

Saiki blinks and you frown.

“Come on! We’re in Paris! City of love! Don’t they have pretty cafés here? We should eat a bunch of baked goods.”

“We don’t have any money.”

You click your tongue. ... Right. “It’s back to our stupid assignment, I guess.” You tug on the back of his shirt. “To Japan.”

“Wait.” Saiki crosses his eyes. You try your best not to question the action. “The coast is clear. Let’s go.”

In an instant, you two were back at the library.

You remember your words from earlier. Power limiters... Don’t tell me they’re real... Oh God, you probably know about me making fun of your hairpins earlier...

“They’re real.”

You whisper angrily, “I get that you can hear my thoughts but wait for me to actually say it out loud!”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Let’s just finish this and maybe finally get coffee, yeah?”

Saiki nods.

An hour or two passes and you two are finally done with your shared assignment.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, what other powers do you have?”

Your bag floats towards you. “Telekinesis.”

A small flame ignites on the tip of Saiki’s index finger. “Pyrokinesis.”

Saiki removes an incredulous thin glove from his hand and touches one of the books you two had used. “Psychometry. This book was returned just the other day.” He quickly wears the glove, and it amazes you how it seems like nothing is even there.

Saiki holds up his notebook and a ¥500 coin appears in its place. “Apport. It lets me exchange items of the same value.”

“Okay. Can we teleport to a café?”

Saiki shakes his head.

“Come on! You have powers and you won’t use them like that?”

He shakes his head at you again. “Have you ever seen me use my powers at school before?”

You shake your head. “I guess I see why... You’d probably be popular if you did, in a good way and bad way. Has it been like that since... well, the start?”

Saiki nods.

“Ah... I’m sorry.” Saiki doesn’t say anything else. In an attempt to break the silence, you ask, “Café, then?”

He nods again. “I could buy coffee jelly.”

“No. Allow me to treat you to coffee jelly, as thanks for letting me in on a secret this big.”

“If telling people I’m psychic meant getting free coffee jelly, I’d probably tell the world.”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

#saiki k #saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo #ok

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samsvenni · 11 months

Text

𝐦𝐜 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳

nightbringer!lucifer x gn!mc

prompt: mc is way too smooth with their words

wc: 0.9k || tags: a tad angsty || rated g || not proofread

✏️- idk if this will be a series, but this is a silly lighthearted prompt abt mc being too smooth for their own good :))

There had to be something wrong with you. Were his passive totally not aggressive comments not enough? No matter what came out of his mouth, you remained as you were: unbothered and still.

He didn’t like it at all.

He didn’t like that because of your excessively collected attitude, it made that he was behaving like an immature child in this situation. He called you to his room to discuss an important matter. It could’ve been anything really.

His brothers, Solomon, or issues that he found problems in; specifically your role as their attendant. The velvet cushioned chair felt extremely homey and this room had fond memories. You surveyed the room, noticing that some things were missing from the present.

The Eldest sat in his room and watched as your eyes didn’t loom over… anything?

How bizarre.

“So… What did you call me here for?” You kept your eyes on him steady and the smile on your face was comfy as ever.

He sighed and took out a golden paper out of a folder. You recognized the fancy sigil immediately. It belonged to the Royal Family, meaning whatever was inside was probably a royal request from Diavolo. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, but there’s a wish that Diavolo wants both of us to fulfill.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, ‘oh’ indeed.” Lucifer was a lot more ‘playful’ today. That word had a lot of synonyms when it came to the Eldest such as being petty, the heaps of dry humor, and anything that could’ve passed over your head if you hadn’t known him before. But, thankfully, you did. “Diavolo wants us to ‘get along better’. Such a vague request, don’t you think?”

The Eldest waited for any signs of distress and dissatisfaction on your face from the smallest crinkle on your forehead or even the faintest jaw clench. Yet all he found was a big ole’ smile and a wholehearted chuckle that could put the Sun to shame.

“…What’s funny?” Lucifer resisted the urge to scratch his head. His gloved hands wouldn’t do him justice.

“I just can’t believe I now have an official excuse to hang out with you.” Secretly, you wiped a cold, invisible sweat off your forehead. Why? Because you thought that Diavolo found out about the time travel thingy.

You breathed easy, knowing that you and Solomon could live peacefully for another day though it wouldn’t last with the shannegians the brothers came up with.

The only one not breathing easy was Lucifer. You seriously wanted an excuse to spend more time with him? An unfamiliar pounding sensation swirled in his rib cage like a fish racing in a pond.

“…Hmph. I’m surprised. Why not Mammon and the others? They all would appreciate your company more.” He folded his arms in an attempt to mentally bury the peculiar feeling that hadn’t died down.

“Well, Diavolo did say to get along with you, not them. I wanna spend time with all of you equally,” But you have already. Or rather, you did in the present. “-but if I wanna be truthful, I wanna spend the time with you the most. I know you’re busy, which is why I value our time together more, no matter how limited it is.”

Holy lord, that sounded super cheesy.

Lucifer watched you wordlessly, hiding a smirk from forming on his face. The Avatar of Pride was having too much fun with whatever this was. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him smile, but hearing you admit that you found his company more valuable than his own brothers? The Eldest bit his inner cheek to compose himself. If Solomon were here, you could practically hear him whispering to you that Lucifer was no better than a teen gushing over their crush.

The mental image was adorabl- Oh my god, now you need to compose yourself or else you’d be the one manifesting Solomon’s delusions.

Lucifer eyed you strangely before crossing his arms over his pounding chest, “You’re getting quite bold, Attendant. Is this something new you’re trying out?”

“Is it really bold to say that I value you, Lucifer?”

“Sweet words, Attendant, sweet words. Flattery will get you nowhere, especially with me.” There was so much bite in his words. You were so used to how soft he could be, that you forgot that Lucifer’s words could be grating. It was pointless to dwell on it. Right now, you’re not in the present, you’re in the past. You weren’t Lucifer’s past, nor is he your present. Such a thought would only consume you whole.

This time, you weren’t alone. Instead of journeying the present alone, you had Solomon with you. A funny feeling in your heart rippled and bounced around in your chest - The feeling of hope and gratitude was enough to keep you going. “Alright, if you have nothing more to ask, I’m gonna head out now.”

You stood up and opened the door. Before leaving completely, through the small crack, you flashed a smile and waved goodbye to the eldest. “Take a breather from the paperwork once in a while.” Just like that, you were off to take another heavenly nap back in your dorm.

“…Take care of yourself too.” His words never reached through the dark wooden doors. Despite that, it was a step forward to the feelings that found home and rooted themselves in his heart.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me nightbringer #om lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #fanfic

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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 months

Note

CONGRATS FOR YOUR MILESTONE!!! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!! And you're one out of the only 5 twst/om writing blogs I have notifs on for, your writing and blog aesthetic makes me so happy!!!

For a request, could you write Kalim sparring with a reader who's a good fighter? It's my personal hc that Kalim can throw a punch of two due to Jamil drilling various self defense techniques into his head. But the whole sparring thing is very lighthearted and fun, since Kalim is not really interested in fighting anyone (especially the person he has a crush on, wink wink 👀) and his fighting partner is not interested in hurting him either. Everything just turns into them being silly and getting into a tickle fight instead or something.

If it's not something in your comfort zone, that's okay! I still wanted to drop by and congratulate you for your hard work. Requests or no requests, writing is content that deserves to be praised and celebrated to thank you! Sorry for the long ask erifidnwyrkd ~ray

COMMENTS: THANK YOU! 💖 I'm always so happy when people tell me they like what I write that much. That's why I love writing this. This is where I feel most appreciated. 🥰

In fact, I am a coward. 😅 So I'm not very familiar with knowing how to fight. But still, I hope I got around it well. As you can see from the number of words, I ended up having fun writing it. I hope you and all have fun reading it too. 😉

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.150 words

CONTEXT: Jamil and Kalim used to train from time to time. One way for Jamil to guarantee that, in an emergency, where he wasn't present, Kalim would have any chance of defending himself and escaping or something like that.

But that day, due to some complication at the basketball club, Jamil couldn't train with Kalim. However, he remembers that he already saw you defending yourself against some NRC students, and thinks you might be a good replacement. And maybe, in a way, it would be an interesting idea to have Kalim fight against you, knowing that he has a crush on you.

So, he calls you and asks you for this favor, and assured you that he would somehow repay you.

You arrive in Scarabia, without Grim. He knew that in Scarabia they liked to have banquets from time to time and he loves to eat. But Jamil wasn't there to cook a feast and probably most of the food he would get is the food that Kalim likes to shove down his throat. So he decided he would be better off with just tuna in Ramshackle.

You've just walked through the front door when...

“HIIIIIIII!” Kalim greets you, while running towards you. He has the cutest smile on his face. “How was your day? Do you want to eat anything? Jamil left some really good things in the fridge.”

You tell him that you already ate some time ago, so you would be ready to train with him as soon as you arrived in Scarabia.

“Train? Train what? AH! Is there a test I forgot?!”

You say no and ask if Jamil hadn't told you what he had told you.

“Oh! That. Ha ha HA HA! Sorry, I guess I got so excited when he told me you were coming that I forgot to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Hum... Don't tell him that, pleeease.”

You promise you won't say anything and he thanks you with an appreciative smile. You remember that Jamil had said that he had left some papers with instructions for training somewhere. When you ask Kalim about this, he doesn't know where they are, but he can guess by knowing Jamil. Or maybe Jamil only knew where to put them because he knew Kalim would forget.

You see the papers and as you would expect, they are all self-defense techniques, where you would be Kalim's aggressor. Techniques for him to defend himself from punches, knives, being grabbed by the arm, neck, etc. You didn't like the idea of even pretending to attack Kalim, but it was the instructions and it was for his own good. Right?

“Can I see the papers?” Kalim asks you when he sees the slight discomfort in your expression. You hand him the papers, he takes a look at them and smiles. “Ah, the same as always. Don't worry, this seems to be just a review. Jamil does this a lot since he says I'm very forgetful. It's okay. Nothing very difficult. You just have to pretend to attack me.” But your discomfort doesn't leave your face. “Hum? What's wrong? You're not feeling well?”

You tell him that you don't want to hurt him and that you don't really like the idea of attacking him, even if it's just pretending.

“I don't want to hurt you either. Not even Jamil, despite what he tells me to do. But we don't need to do this training like the ones I do with Jamil, right? I really hope not, otherwise I'm going to lose all the rounds.” He says with a slightly embarrassed smile. You ask why. “Because like I said, I don't want to hurt you, so I think I'll end up letting you win every time. Ha ha. AH! That's it! Why don't we play fight? Some of my siblings like to do it. We don't need to take this so seriously, we can just have fun. Right? What do you think?”

You think about it and agree. And both of you also agree that it's okay as long as Jamil doesn't get upset. Or finds out.

The "training" started normally. But it was when he got to the part of training to defend himself from knives that Kalim had an idea. He went to get one of those thick markers, took off the cap and said: “You know paintball right? The goal is not to get hit by the paint. Why don't we try to do something like that?” He hands you the marker. He removes his coat and other accessories from his torso until only his white shirt remains. “You're going to try to paint me and I have to dodge it. It'll be fun, you'll see.” he says with a big amused smile.

You ask if he doesn't think Jamil will be upset with him for ruining his shirt.

“Maybe, but don't worry, I can buy lots more where this one came from. Ha ha ha.”

He was right, that was fun. You forgot that you were training self-defence and looked more like a couple playing. At one point, Kalim managed to grab your wrist and steal your marker. And he looked at you with that rare mischievous smile of his. “My turn!”

You seemed surprised. What does he mean his turn? Weren't you the attacker? But then he looks at you and straightens up.

“Oh. You should take off your coat first. I'll get a better see if I catch you with the marker on your white shirt.” You hesitate. You don't have many shirts like that. “If I ruin the shirt I can buy you a new one, or two, or as many as you want. No problem!... Pleeease? I'm having so much fun with you!” He's making puppy eyes.

You agree and take off your coat and accessories. You continue that "training" until there comes a time when both of you have kind of given up on defending yourselves and are already covered in paint streaks on your shirts, arms and even your face. You realize you dropped the marker and can't find it.

“You lose your weapon?” Kalim says “Well, it looks like there's now only one way to find out who wins.” And he attacks you with tickles. “Surrender!”

You try to resist, but end up really surrendering. Kalim was too good at tickling. And as soon as you know it, the two of you were on the floor, practically hugging each other. He smiles affectionately at you.

“I wish you were in Scarabia. We could have fun like this every day. I could see you and be with you every day for much longer.”

Your noses were almost touching when Jamil appears and drops his training bag to make a noise that would get both of your attention. He looked bothered. “WHAT?! Why are you two-? OH, for the patience of the great seven.” he sighs.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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leverage-ot3 · 2 months

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Is leverage redemption worth watching? I love Leverage but idk if i could enjoy the show if hardison isn't in most episodes or if the reboot sells out in some way.

okay so I showed up to this ask like four months late with a smoothie so I'm sorry about that BUT

does redemption have it's flaws? yes, I will be the first to admit that!

however, as someone who deeply loves leverage, the characters and what the show stands for, I still can find myself enjoying redemption.

there's one post that's in my drafts talking about the differences between the og and redemption and the so-called universe physics (how logic works in both shows and how they are the same/differ) and there are definitely some differences. there are some really good posts comparing them in the tags and I'll try to tag them as watch redemption when they come up!

I'm going to be really honest right now and say that (no shade) I feel like redemption s1-2 were lacking because john rogers was not a main writer for them. devlin and the others are great and know their stuff, but redemption was missing some of the grit (balanced with everything else) that the original run had. redemption is more fun and lighthearted (where the og was still fun and had comedic elements but also had a more jaded perspective). I think part of that change is the absence of nate as a character and what he brought to the table, but the other part of that is very much the way the show is written overall

I have seen some criticism about parker being a caricature of what she was in the original run (ex: how she goes to a child's psychologist and uses puppets sometimes, is overtly weird, more loud about stuff, etc) BUT I will say that I think there's some nuance to that

I don't think the child psychiatrist thing is infantalizing- some methods of therapy work for people more than others and that is me speaking as someone who works in mental health. if play therapy and stuff like that work for you as an adult, good for you! whatever works for you is more than enough the overtly and loudly being weird thing I really do think can be taken either way. in the original run part of parker's character progression was that she was learning how to interact with people normally (or at least more efficiently), but her being more out about that now can be taken as she is more comfortable in her skin and acting like she wants because she is surrounded by people who love and support her. maybe she doesn't want to (or have to!) mask all the time and I don't see a problem with that

HOWEVER! there are certain criticisms that are related to her characterizations and overlaps with her autism and I don't want to speak over the autism community about those aspects and how they have manifested in her character in redemption so I'm leaving it there

as for the hardison being absent aspect- I was REALLY afraid of that at first BUT the loss isn't so deeply impactful when you have characters like breanna and harry added to the mix. I went in ambivalent about harry and excited to have breanna (a canon queer) joining the team, but I have come to love and cherish both of them dearly and wouldn't want to replace them or lose them as characters in this found family ensemble. I think the writers handled aldis' packed schedule really well and even though he isn't there in most episodes, his presence is still very much around. parker and eliot talk about him and reference him when he's gone. so do sophie and breanna, even harry. he isn't on the screen but the relationships he's formed with the other characters and the impact he's had on them is very evident.

there are some takes from users about whether or not the ot3 was queerbait, un-canoned, etc in redemption. I have a lot of thoughts about it and a lot of them are incomprehensible but what I can say is that I have renewed hopes for the progression and canon development of their relationship now that john rogers is back as the main writer for s3

#leverage #leverage redemption #eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #leverage redemption s3 #breanna casey #harry wilson #character appreciation #watch leverage #watch redemption #jackie talks #mine #asks #answered asks #open-source-anarch3y #i tried to write the best i could but i have a bad cold and I am technically working rn so this was the best i could do :/

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dirtybg3confessions · 6 months

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FAQs

Help! I can't see the confessions! What is your policy on Dead Dove: Do Not Eat?

Blog Moderation FAQs

How do I submit a confession?

You can send your naughty, naughty confessions anonymously through the ask box. (Make sure you hit the toggle!) You can also submit posts, though those aren't technically anonymous. But rest assured, anything you submit stays between us and Loviatar, darling- they'll be edited and posted in the same manner as the others.

When will my confession be posted?

Right now, the inbox is staying steady at 2,000+ open asks (that's 167 days of posts!) at a time. Generally, this means that confessions are edited and added to the queue around 4-6 months after they're submitted, and then posted generally within a week after that. Tumblr probably did not eat your ask, though we understand the concern as tumblr hungers for asks the same way Gale hungers for your boots.

How often do you post?

The queue is set to post 12 posts a day over 24 hours. This means that there's roughly one post every 2 hours. This is a change from the prior settings.

In what order are confessions posted?

Generally, confessions will be posted in roughly the same order they're received. Order will be adjusted within a "batch" to make sure we're generally not double or triple posting the same character in a row.

Sometimes an ask may take a little longer based on the complexity. How many characters are in this confession? Do we need to hunt down unnamed goblin #3 who is a secret appearance in the goblin camp if and only if you're wearing a purple hat? These confessions will be posted- but may take a little bit longer.

Do you double post confessions?

No. Every confession is unique. Though, fandoms tend to go through "phases" where a lot of people have similar ideas about the same character for a burst of time, which can lead to similar confessions. Additionally, people tend to write with a "voice" so when the same anon is writing for a different character (or the same one), it may read similar to an earlier confession.

How do you tag your posts?

Generally, everything receives bg3 and dirty confessions tags. From there, we tag the characters involved. Recently, we have begun tagging more extreme kinks beyond the standard smut someone scrolling on "Dirty Baldur's Gate 3 Confessions" can reasonably expect to see.

If there's something specific you see that you would like us to tag, a simple "Hey, can you please tag x thing?" in the ask box goes a long way. Detect thoughts was not on our spell list.

Do you post every confession you receive?

We are the wardens, not the judge. We post 99.9% of confessions we receive. Your kinks won't get you shamed here- but being rude to other confessors will. It's all in good fun and some lighthearted teasing is one thing, but don't be mean (without consent, anyway).

Ultimately, your mods reserve the right to decide whether or not to post a confession.

Can I be a mod?

DBG3 is not currently looking for mods, but an announcement will be made when/if that changes!

Hopefully this has answered most of your burning questions. Now...

Turn and face the wall, darling.

#not confessions #faq

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cosmicstarlatte · 7 months

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Levi A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me!)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (9 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

tags: punishment, humiliation Every once in a while you need to punish him, either he spent way too much on otaku merch or he's been missing classes too much, whatever. You'll usually sit on him & tease him as he tries to play on his PC. He knows what you're doing & he begs to feel you, please he'll 'do better' he says. Unfortunately for him his poor cock won't get that sweet relief exactly. he can beg & whine all he wants & rub desperately against you but he's still gonna have to cum in his pants.

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

It was clumsy & cute. The poor otaku was so nervous, he couldn't believe he could bag such a baddie. Someway somehow even with the nervousness he still felt calm with you, if that makes any sense. He was more worried about you than him & he just wanted to make you feel good. especially when he came rather quickly before the 1st round. Anyway, the nerd is packin' & those hands & tongue work skillfully. ...You definitely went a few good rounds into the night & left each other a mess before finally taking a sweet bath together. After, you guys cuddled under a warm blanket & watched a lighthearted anime. ♡

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

tags: Possessive, Love bites/Marking, Scenting Sweetie, he's the avatar of envy. When it's extreme, there's no hiding it, he gives in. That sweet shy nervous otaku? Gone. He's bringing & giving grand admiral energy, he's giving 'one of the powerful lords of hell.' Sure he could summon Lotan or use something else if he wants to, but all he really needs is to say "Go away" in a icy cold voice & glare that makes thousands of soldiers shiver. You almost feel sorry for any bastard that tries to make him jealous. Even after they leave though, he wants nothing more but to mark you with visible love bites & rub his scent all over you. He made it easily known to his brothers to not touch what's his.

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

It happens frequently hehe. You tend to stay over a lot to watch a marathon or play games. Levi's libido is strong, he's always down to fuck in the morning, it brightens his spirit. Watching you take his cock & filling you up right before school is the perfect way to start the day. It's especially motivating when he knows you walk around the entire day with his cum between your legs, he cant wait to come home & fuck you again. (If he can wait that long)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

You know what I'm not gonna lie, I think he'd be just a tad disappointed at first. Of course he reminds himself a lot of porn is fake anyway & then he really tunes in to the small delicious sounds you do reveal. The faces you make. The little bits you let him hear are still so very fucking hot & sexy. He's the one making you sound like that either way~

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

Ah...Levi is easy. He's not very good at hiding it. A flushed face and a small sheen of sweat to him. He gets a little extra irritable as well. The biggest sign is the tent in his pants when he's around you. Sorry, but he doesn't hide it very well, it's obvious when he looks like he's trying to hide something when he tries to cover up down there. (I wonder if he does it on purpose?)

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

Do you realize what you've done? The first time you sent him a video, he got instantly hard & couldnt stop cumming to that video. Unfortunately for him he kept getting hard any time he thought about it that week, it was embarrassing walking around with a constant erection. His first few videos in response were a little clumsy, but it turned you on. He was a loud moaner & he loved to whimper. Little whiney pants when he was getting close always did it for you. He made sure to take better video, especially audio when he learned you really loved his moans. ♡

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

tags: overstimulation The only thing on his mind is getting you off the entire night until you're crying & begging him to stop. Until you're drained. He knows it's about the two of you celebrating but...you're his life partner now! He's so grateful you chose him out of everyone. Please let him worship you tonight, lay back & let him handle it. He promises he's enjoying this as much as you are. Promise.

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

tags: double dicks, creepy!pervy!levi I'm not going to lie to y'all, Levi's a freak. (Okay we knew this) He watches all kinds of porn, both real & hentai. I'd say it's nearly an every day thing, it's hard taking care of two monster cocks & he needs to empty his balls. His favorite? POV hentai vids. Especially ones that look like you... Perhaps he has a few commissioned hentais where they look like the two of you...

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

#Levi:#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan smut #obey me leviathan headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x you #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me levi #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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kiragecko · 1 month

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cherrystainedknuckles

I guess the only problem with being asked to take a “marie kondo approach” is that in order to find any fanfic that appears to be based in actual canon timeline and plot points and characterization (which does exist, and I’m not sure why fanon fans seem insistent that it doesn’t), I literally have to search for hours. I’m not joking, I consistently make fic rec lists, and I have to search for hours and hours for actual canonical basis. same thing with character tags on tumblr.

I’m not saying fanon fans have to stop enjoying fanon or making up their own content. I’m just saying that when the tags used for both fanon tim drake and canon tim drake are the same tag it just becomes incredibly annoying sometimes, and I understand why people who like to engage with canon (me, often) become frustrated

I have definitely had periods where I got incredibly frustrated with fanon! Around 2019, I was wondering if I needed to leave the Batfandom, because it had been so long since I read a new fic where the characters felt 'right'.

But, if you're willing to, I'd like you to consider what you mean when you divide 'fanon' from 'canon'. Because I struggle to find a hard line between the two, for several reasons:

1. Fandom is transformative. Every fanfic is going to have some interpretation of the source material. The line between what is too much interpretation and what is acceptable is different for every person. For me, I find it can even vary based on writing style or other odd things - lighthearted fic can have more noncanonical stuff in it than heavier fic, and still seem true to canon.

2. 'Canon' is subjective. I do not consider the movies or video games to be 'canon', and it annoys me when things from those creep into the fic I'm reading. (I'm okay with SOME Battinson.) Some aspects of the cartoons are okay. I consider precrisis Jason Todd to be an alternate reality version, but Donna's precrisis origins are more canonical than the dumb retcons. Wayne Family Adventures isn't my main version of the characters, but I'm not bothered if some elements show up in my stories. I'm ignoring most of the nu52, but I like Duke and I'm still watching this new Lian to see what happens. I doubt your divisions are identical to mine.

(Also, some things that I think of as 'fanon' have shown up in nu52 canon! I do not accept them as any more canon because of this.)

3. Most 'fanon' is based on canon. Canon Tim has weird sleep habits. 90s Dick is really lighthearted and joking around some characters in ways similar to fanon. Dick can canonically not be trusted to take care of himself if his mental health gets low enough. Jason likes classical literature. Etc.

These are exaggerated and/or twisted in a lot of fic, but where is the line where they stop being canon? I wouldn't bat an eye at a lot of this stuff, if it didn't show up SO OFTEN.

4. Most 'fanon fans' do know some canon. What line are you going to set where it will be 'enough'. And are they allowed to mention parts of the canon they haven't read yet? Is anyone allowed to talk about Dick's early Robin days, or only the tiny amount of people who have read the golden age stuff? A lot of the 'mistakes' I see are obviously made by people who have read ABOUT canon, but don't know quite how it fits together.

5. 'Canon' is FULL of contradictions. Yes, there are canon events. Yes, there is characterization that is consistent across 3/4s of comics. But. I'm still working on my sidekick timeline. I've devoted days to figuring out ages and passage of time. I've spent over a decade trying to figure out Jason Todd's motivations, and why Tim treats him the way he does. I've read all the 90s and early 2000s CANONICAL character assassination of Jason.

I spent years thinking that Donna's death was almost as foundational as Jason's, only to later discover that I had just happened to read the specific comics that focused on the fallout, and she only stayed dead for a short time. That happens to fans ALL THE TIME! We read a character summarizing an event we haven't directly read, and just accept it as what happened. But characters have biases, and not all writers care about accuracy.

I've read some Tim Drakes that I consider to be almost entirely 'fanon'. And quite a few that were so scarily 'canon' that I got chills. (Not all of which were similar to each other.) But the vast, vast majority have fallen somewhere in the middle.

I definitely do not want the responsibility of deciding which ones count as 'canon'! And I think I would strongly dislike anyone who tried to decide for me.

Being frustrated is logical, and I empathize. But the original post was about the impossible expectations some fans feel. The expectation to read thousands of comics, synthesize all the contradictions, and come to conclusions that match the 'true fans'. That's a perfectly reasonable thing to be complaining about.

If that's what some fans are experiencing, of course they're not going to want to engage with canon! There's no way for them to succeed, so why should they even try?

When you join THAT conversation to discuss your frustration about fanon, it strengthens that perception. When you call them 'fanon fans' it emphasizes their belief that you don't think they belong. And rather than trying to change, it's more likely that they'll double down. Canon is full of gatekeepers, so they'll avoid it.

#gatekeeping #fandom policing #fanon #canon vs fanon #usually don't do stuff like this anymore #I'm old and tired #but sometimes the words want to come out

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mrscarmenbearzatto · 3 months

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mae girl! i’ve been living for your carmy stuff. k know you’re just getting back but i’ve been thinking about this idea for a while and i believe the last writer i shared with had gotten deactivated. this might be two ideas instead of one so feel free to do whatever you desire. idk why but would you be down to write some fluff and angst with maybe like married!carmy? maybe something where nat and pete legit ambush carmy and his wife to start talking again? but it like a lighthearted fluffy kinda way at the same time ? utilizing the scene carmy yells at syd as a base- i hate to use that scene as an example but it’s one that comes to mind when writing this atm. anyway, like the reader doesn’t work at the bear but’ll come in on her days off and mornings before her shift to help them open. and carm is already on edge about something going on in the resto and he yells at his wife out of overwhelming frustration. evidently, he’s mad at himself for it after he does it he apologized but she’s all like “no.” and she’s literally giving him the silent treatment. ofc her and nat are besties and loves her sil, so i totally see nat roping pete into getting carmy to come over whilst the reader is already on her way since they haven’t spoken in a while. both nat and pete are literally doing whatever they can to keep these two in separate spaces of the house because neither carm or his wife have any clue they’re there. maybe like y/n is inside with nat and pete meets carmy outside on arrival? the reader is walking towards to the door to out and nat’s still stalling like “so are things with you and my brother?” and the reader scoffs and nat’s just like “still not talking to him huh?” and while the reader grabs the handle slowly opening the door open she’s all like “look, sugar- you know i love your brother, but carmy sometimes can be a piece of shit” and then all you hear is carmy being like “oh, i’m a piece of shit- even after i apologized to you?” and i can just see carmy and the reader being like wth is going on here. idk but nat and pete will sillily have to do the most to get these two the civilly sit down inside of their house to even have anything of a talk. and then nat team tagging with pete to get to the bottom of things and then she lets it slip that y/n had mentioned that they were trying to get pregnant and camry’s just like “wait. what? and carmy already up and ready to talk to her alone. this man would be so loving the first time all like “y/nn can i talk to you in the kitchen for a second?” and then she’s tryna explain and carm out here using her FULL name “in the kitchen now.” just hearing how he’d say it makes me squirm and squeak 😂😩. and she’s just speeding over because she knows he means it when he pulls out the first name. and think with that he’s all just hurt that she told his sister and he hadn’t really said anything- since it was their thing they they were still figuring out. seriously feel free to do whatever you desire. just sharing the same idea i’ll dream about in a few moments. tysm in advance 😭.

- 🥣.

i'm so sorry this took me so long to write, my love! this has nothing to do with you i just got a bit concerned and got lost so many times lmfao, im just dumb like that

ʚɞ

naturally, carmen wants to try to keep his anger away from you. you’re his love, his angel, his everything. the idea that he blew up at you makes him wanna cry but you won’t talk to him, you refuse to in fact until you process what he said.

“why the fuck are you here?! i don’t need you messing shit up and crowding me!” he yelled at you. the memory fresh in your mind. it should be since it’s the only thing you’ve thought about for the past few days.

nat and pete, in their own ways, notice this and take charge. pete thinks you two can handle it but nat chimes in with the, “i know my brother. he can’t handle shit. If this is left up to him to resolve, nothing will happen. i love him but still.”

so they form their plan. pete invites carmy over to set up furniture, catch up, whatever and nat invites you over to talk about the baby and ask for your help with meal prepping. “so, have you and my brother talked about what happened at the restaraunt?” she asks.

you walk over to the couch, putting on your jacket and scarf. you let out a scoff as your answer. “taking that as a no.” nat answers. you put your hand on the doorknob, your back to the front lawn where carmen and pete, unknowing to you, stand.

"look, you know I love Carmen. and you know i want-" you sigh. "i want a family with him, Nat. i want a child, or children, with the guy. but your brother can be a real piece of shit sometimes." You open the door fully at that point, where carmen's now staring at you.

"i'm a piece of shit, after i apologized to you?" carmen asks. you stare at him before looking at pete, then at natalie whose got a guilty smile on her face. "okay. what the hell is this?" You question.

"oh! carmy, hi! i had no idea you were gonna be here. come on in, we'll all have some coffee and we can talk about what's happening." natalie says as she pulls you inside, motioning for carmen to come inside.

he reluctantly agrees, stepping inside as he sits at the dining room table. you stand in the kitchen, far enough away from them.

i think once nat reveals that you told her you want kids his reaction changes. maybe you two talked about it or maybe he doesnt know but either way, he wants to talk to you. that changes things in his mind. because you still want kids with him.

while you and carm work out your own issues, of course nat and pete take credit for it, even though you and carmy are both mad at her. also the idea of carmen using your full name as a way to call you stop oh my gosh

#maeberzatto #mae writes!#mae writes: the bear #mae has mail! 💌#mae's anons!#bowl anon #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #mae answers your asks!#mae answers: carmen and reader making up</3

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