#Luckily I set it early enough that I recognized what was happening before the Actual actual time hit lol

[harlowcomehome]

Jack meets reader when modeling for a clothing brand like Prada this for sure would happens considering his glasses that he where’s all the time-🌊

“Model behavior.”

You have been modeling for various clothing companies and brands for the last two years of your career. You had met several other models and even celebrities, but you always wanted to keep things professional. Plus, you had never met anyone interesting enough to risk it all for.

Today you were working with Prada for a new spring collection, you were really excited to model everything and were told that you would be working with a celebrity. Normally when you got the briefings for your photo shoots there wasn’t much detail to it, you didn’t mind it though. You were only focused on yourself and what you brought to the table.

When you arrived on site early, you spoke with the photographer who gave you the rundown of what to expect today. He warned you that the celebrity that you were working with was newer to Prada and would likely need your help, which you didn’t mind at all. 

You had just got changed into your first outfit when you walked out and saw a familiar face, you recognized him right away. It wasn’t that you were a fan, it was that he was literally everywhere lately.

“Miss Y/N this is Jack Harlow” Raf the creative director introduced the two of you. You eyed him up and down, you thought the heels you were instructed to wear made you tall but he was taller, that of course being the first thing you noticed before being distracted by his aquamarine eyes.

“I’m Jack” he reached out and shook your hand. “Y/N” you smiled at him. “Oh I know, I saw you at New York fashion week” he admitted making your cheeks burn. Something about the way he carried himself, made you instantly attracted which had never happened before, you tried to mentally shake the feeling off.

“Jack, follow her to set and she’ll show you where to stand” Raf instructed. Jack nodded and followed closely behind you, he admired the way your legs looked in those heels. So much so that when you tripped and almost sprained your ankle he caught you.

“I don’t think those are buckled right” he said as you leaned into him before collecting yourself. You looked down to see one of the buckles wasn’t latched right, something that had never happened to you before.

“I got it” he bent down and fixed it for you, the pit of your stomach felt hot, such a simple kind gesture was so attractive.

“Thank you” you smiled as he came back up to your eye level.

“No problem, I have a feeling you’re going to be helping me a lot today. I feel like I already owe you” he smiled, his dimple you hadn’t noticed earlier coming out.

“Oh my gosh, you have dimples?” You said excitedly.

“One” he laughed, “just one.” You smiled at him,“well, we’ll make sure that sides what gets photographed. Dimples sell” you smiled. Jack could feel himself turning red, he wasn’t used to girls being so forward in a professional setting but he liked it. You all the while didn’t even realize he took it as flirting.

The two of you had fun during your photo shoot, which was good because there was a lot of natural looking laughing shots. Jack was really respectful of your body and your space, which you hate to praise someone for the bare minimum but it was usually not the case during these photo shoots. He would constantly ask you if his hand placement was alright, making you giggle at how soft he was about everything.

”You know? You’re actually really fun to work with” you admitted as you both went in for your final shot.

“I am?” He smiled, admiring you, he liked how nice and encouraging you had been the entire time.

“This is the most fun I’ve had on set” you giggled, standing in front of him with your legs spread sort as a power stance type pose.

“How long have you been modeling?”

You blushed at the question, realizing he was asking that based of what you said. You were stumped thinking of how to respond but luckily the creative director interrupted you instead.

“I love this chemistry the two of you have, would you mind if we took a little more intimate shots?”

You looked over at Jack for confirmation “I’m comfortable if you are” he nodded. You straddled his lap, putting on arm behind his back and the other in your hair. You only took a few shots, it didn’t take many to get a good one.

When you climbed off his lap, he held a hand out to steady you, he smiled up at you as you took it. “Thank you” you smiled, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “No problem” he smiled back.

“I think we got everything we need, as always thank you Y/N and thank you to Jack Harlow for accompanying us today as well” Raf announced to the staff surrounding you both who cheered and clapped.

You were going to hug him goodbye but as soon as Raf was out of view all of the girls on set swarmed him for his attention, you laughed to yourself as you walked back to your dressing room to get changed.

You had just grabbed your purse to leave when you opened the door to see Jack standing there. “Oh my gosh, you scared me” you giggled.

“You we’re going to leave without saying goodbye?” He teased and you smiled at him “you seemed a little preoccupied.”

He nodded at that, he was used to getting a lot of attention but for some reason he was drawn to you and the fact that you almost left without saying anything to him.

“I wanted to thank you for today. I still get a little nervous doing stuff like this” he smiled, you could tell he was being genuine.

“Don’t worry about it so much, you’re a natural” you smiled as you looked up at him. “You also have really pretty eyes” you hummed, not sure why you said that but it just came out. “I know the editing team will love that” you gushed.

Jack smiled at you “I mean, I’ve been told that a time or two.”

“Oh I’m sure you have!” You responded with a giggle and the two of you awkwardly standing there in silence for a brief fifteen seconds.

“Have dinner with me?” Jack blurted out, you could tell he was nervous to ask which you only found to be adorable.

“Tonight?” You asked with a smile and he nodded.

“Give me your phone” you held your hand out to him. He unlocked and handed you his phone, you called yourself and handed it back to him.

“I will text you details” he smiled, you could tell he was excited, but trying to keep his cool. You nodded and watched him walk away.

You watched as him and his team left the building, you collected your things and told Raf thanks again for the opportunity.

Raf stopped you before you headed out the door “you two have insane chemistry, just saying darlin.” You laughed it off but thought about it when you got into the car.

You already had a text from Jack, you admired his eagerness.

Jack Harlow: Miss me yet?

You hated how a three word message made you giggle like a kid.

You: You’re the one texting me. 🤔

Jack was also sharing the same reaction as you, laughing to himself as he was driven back to his hotel.

You both talked back and fourth a little bit before he told you when to be ready for dinner.

He picked you up himself, which surprised you but you were relieved. You thought he’d send a car or something extra and you weren’t sure how to handle that.

He met you on your porch, he was dressed in all black, he looked really good. You smelled his cologne instantly, “you smell good” you smiled and he did too.

“Thank you, it’s something new I have cooking up.”

“Oh! Exclusive? I’m honored to smell it” you laughed as the two of you walked to his car. He had a big goofy grin on his face, you wondered what he was up to.

He opened the car door for you. Before you got in your saw a small box with a bow sitting in the passenger seat, you picked it up and looked at him confused. He wiggled his eyebrows at you “I’m glad you thought it smelled nice.” You felt yourself blushing from the gesture “is this a bottle for me?”

He nodded “it’s unisex, and that’s the only bottle right now, besides the one that I have.” He smiled pretty big at that, you could tell he was proud of his gesture, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him before getting in the car.

When he got into the drivers seat you could tell his cheeks were red, he blushed easily, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t already noticed that earlier in the day. He saw you admiring his side profile, slightly nervous he cleared his throat and handed you the aux. “You can connect your music if you want” he smiled and you instantly got nervous “are you sure you don’t want to?” He laughed, your reaction was a reaction that he was used to “you’re worried I’m going to judge your music taste huh?” 

“No!“ you answered defensively, obviously playing along “never that!” He laughed “I like pretty much anything, so don’t worry.” You plugged your phone is, not realizing the last thing you played would automatically start playing and embarrassingly enough it was one of his songs. You quickly paused it but the damage was done, the song title and album cover showing up on his dash.

His eyes flickered to the screen and then back to you “oh yeah?” You were so embarrassed, you wanted to jump out of his car and run home. “I had to do my research, make sure you weren’t going to kill me on this date or something” you laughed and he did too “so you admit it?”

You looked over at him confused, all the while frantically searching for another more appropriate song to play. “Admit it?” You asked with a smile.

“This is a date” he smirked and you laughed.

“Do you give gifts to casual hangouts?” You teased and he clicked his tongue, really feeling like he met his match when it came to flirting.

“No, of course not” he smiled. “But quick question, what’s your favorite song off that album?” He teased and you couldn’t help but giggle “I’m not living that down anytime soon am I?” “Absolutely not” he snickered as he pulled into the parking lot of a private restaurant.

You had always wanted to eat here but it was basically known for being the celebrity hangout and very exclusive, invite only type of place.

You went to open your car door, Jack looked at you “are you crazy woman?���

You giggled “what?”

“AHT AHT! hand off the handle” he got out quickly and met you at your door.

“Are you always this dramatic?” You playfully rolled your eyes, smoothing out your dress and you got out of the car.

“Did I hear romantic?” He tested playfully putting a hand behind his ear “oh yeah well, only on dates” he smiled, his dimple very visible.

You felt butterflies in your stomach, a warm fuzzy feeling you hadn’t felt in a very long time. You liked how goofy he was, he kept you laughing and you liked that.

The two of you walked through a back entrance and was led to a rooftop table, the view of the city illuminated by lights. You were impressed, this was the best first date you’d ever been on.

The two of you sat down quickly and talked for a good while before finally ordering something. He kept his hand on the table, you could tell he wanted to grab your hand but he was unsure, you grabbed his instead. He smiled, his blue eyes flickering from your hands back to your eyes. “That’s why I wanted to go out with you tonight” he hummed “I like a girl who takes charge.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled.

“Yeah, you have this independent woman vibe about you and I like it” he smiled, his tongue visible in his cheek.

“I like your energy too” you admitted “I can’t seem to figure you out, and I like that.”

He smiled back at you “I’m a complex guy, what can I say?” He laughed before taking a sip of water.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic #bf Jack #jack harlow fluff #🌊 anon

[homenecromancer]

i need to be annoying about this again, also i have some actual new material this time... here's the first chapter (and a chunk of the second) of this fic im writing. 4000+ words!

summary: the year is 199X, and the employees of the School decide to throw a Christmas party. things go either poorly or very well indeed, depending on your point of view. this fic is my answer to the question “what if Jeb Batchelder had angst about his crush on Roland ter Borcht?”

this is a fic that exists for me to turn the “self-indulgence” dial all the way to eleven, and for no other purpose 

- - -

Until the Christmas party, you didn’t get along. After that, you did, and that was worse.

Roland ter Borcht had been a late addition to your team — he had come from Itex after the buyout, and that meant he simply hadn’t been there during the startup phase of things. You knew him — the professional circles you moved in, even before he joined your company, were small enough that you’d have had to put effort into ignoring him — but you didn’t consider him a friend. Just a face you saw in the halls.

But at the end of the first full year after the buyout, you were all in a festive mood. Things were going well, better than you’d dared to hope for, and of course the increased funding you got from Itex helped smooth things over. And so, you decided to throw a Christmas party.

Valencia did most of the decorating, which should have made you suspicious. But you were busy figuring out how to throw a party whose centerpiece wasn’t a bathtub full of jungle juice, and you were just grateful someone else was hanging the decorations. She’d even brought her camera to take pictures of it all.

You were pouring the last of the punch into the bowl when you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!” you called, stirring cautiously with the ladle. One of Valencia’s friends had contributed the recipe. There were little chunks of fruit in it.

You didn’t have so many coworkers that you couldn’t recognize him just by voice. It wasn’t necessarily a pleasant voice, but the accent was distinctive. And you still knew few enough Europeans that you found it faintly exotic.

“Am I too early?” he said. He’d signed up to bring potato chips, and he had — his arms were full of bags. Well, at least he wasn’t a flake.

“No, come in,” said Valencia, who was busy setting out stacks of napkins and paper plates.

You stirred the punch a little more, then took three cups from the stack next to the bowl, and began ladling out the punch. “We’ll start a little early,” you said.

You didn’t really register that ter Borcht had come to the table next to you and set the chips down until you heard Valencia laugh.

“What?” you said.

You looked at her, and wondered why her camera had suddenly moved from hanging by its strap to sitting poised ready in her hand. Then she pointed up, above your head, and you understood.

Stapled to the foam ceiling tile, positioned strategically above the punch bowl — was a strand of mistletoe.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you said.

“That’s hardly fair,” ter Borcht said, next to you. There was a nervous edge to his voice.

Valencia only laughed again and, worse yet, raised her camera. “Gotcha,” she said.

“You’re not going to blackmail me, are you?” you asked. You knew she wouldn’t settle for a quick greeting kiss on the cheek, either. No, she would want you to pose.

It all happened very fast after that. A hand tapped you on the shoulder, and you automatically turned to face its owner.

Ter Borcht said, “Take the picture.”

Then he grabbed the front of your shirt and, unflinching, pulled you towards him — and kissed you.

You didn’t have an extensive record when it came to kissing, and were therefore rather lost when it came to what to do next. Luckily for you, he kept things brief — he brought his lips to yours, kept them there a moment, and released you. He smelled like aftershave.

You opened your eyes and said, “I hope you got the picture, because there’s not going to be a repeat performance.” There was a hot flush on your cheeks, as though you’d been outside in the cold.

Valencia laughed and patted her camera. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I got it.”

///

The rest of the party went well, though you couldn’t decide if you felt betrayed, embarrassed, or some other, third thing. Valencia was in high spirits, and ter Borcht surprised you by staying the whole time — so whatever you were feeling, neither of them shared it. You settled for just not thinking about it until, very suddenly, you found that the party was over. And ter Borcht needed a ride home.

As it turned out, he was even in the same apartment building as you. So you didn’t even have the excuse that it would take you too far from home. Faced with this pressure, you folded.

Standing next to your car in the parking lot, you said, “Don’t make it weird.”

He looked at you silently for just a moment, then said, “Pardon?”

His grasp of English idiom was still a little patchy, you decided. “Just get in the car.”

He stayed quiet as you started the car and poked your way through the darkness away from the School; the whole car rattled on the gravel access road. You realized, with shame, that you were still a little drunk. You held the steering wheel harder, as if that would help.

You almost forgot you had a passenger until you were turning onto the highway back to town. His voice was soft. He said:

“Sorry I ruined the party.”

You were a little started; you couldn’t remember, just then, what he was talking about. “Huh? You didn’t ruin the party.”

“At the beginning, when I--” He broke off there, and made an embarrassed hand gesture you could only partly see while driving.

“Oh,” you said, before he could finish the sentence with a lethal verb. “Uh, yeah. Don’t worry about it.” You fumbled for words. “Valencia is – kind of a prankster, sometimes. She plays jokes on people.” And there was no way she was ever going to let you live this one down.

“I know the type,” he said, after a pause.

You doubted that – you didn’t know him very well, but you also knew that no one seemed to know him very well. He was polite but never friendly; when you sent the invitations out, you hadn’t expected him to show up to the party. The shape of his character was, to you, a pure negative space, defined by that absence of knowledge. A flicker of alcohol-fueled determination went through you. To hell with the polite fiction of self he showed at work. You wanted to know the man.

That was your excuse to yourself when you let him invite you to his apartment. You could’ve just gone straight home without fear of committing a social faux pas. But as you parked he said artlessly, “Do you know, I’ve been living here a year already, and I’ve never had a visitor?”

“Really?” you said, and you followed him upstairs.

His apartment looked familiar the moment he opened the door. It looked like Valencia’s apartment – like yours. The furniture was lazily-arranged and clearly on its fourth or fifth owner, and nothing seemed to quite be in its proper place.

There was only one thing on the walls, you noticed. (Valencia’s apartment was virtually wallpapered with framed posters and artwork. You, on the other hand, hadn’t so much as put up a calendar.) The couch was an earth-toned relic of the 70s, its familiar Western pattern worn by years of use. And above it, tacked neatly to the wall, was a photograph you knew.

It showed a ruined village, protected by a looming outcrop of stone that hid it from the sky. The buildings that remained upright stood in the loose rubble of their own slow collapse. You knew that, in real life, the soft, ashy gray of the bricks in the photo was a warm brown that echoed the sheltering mass of sandstone overhead – and you knew that the photo didn’t show the dark black lines of desert varnish that laced that stone.

Ter Borcht had gone into the kitchen – you could hear the sink running and cabinet doors opening – but he heard you when you said:

“Hey, I’ve been there.”

“What?” he called.

“The picture,” you said. “That’s Mesa Verde; I didn’t know you’d been there.”

“Oh, I haven’t.” His voice preceded him out of the kitchen. He was carrying two glasses of water, and he offered one to you. You took it. He said, “I found that in a – thrift store.”

Ordinarily you would have shut up and just let that statement hang awkwardly in the air. But tonight you said, “It’s a national park in Colorado – I went when I was in college.”

He looked at the photograph for a moment, silent. There was a distant look in his eyes. “I thought it was very beautiful,” he said quietly. “You could take me sometime?”

You were a little startled by that, simply in logistical terms. You were torn between the potential joy of showing someone a place you had loved, and the practical fact that you barely had enough time off for sleep, much less driving across multiple states. “I mean, if we’re ever in Colorado,” you said. You cast about for something else to offer. “There are some petroglyphs, rock carvings, in some of the canyons around here, I could show you those.”

“I would like that,” he said, and smiled. You were just close enough to see the faint wrinkles that feathered the corners of his eyes. Your chest felt warm, and the skin between your shoulder blades prickled. You took a sip of water so that you wouldn’t have to say anything.

He said, “I am sorry about the party — I’ve never done that before.”

Your mouth spoke before you could think. “Kissed a guy?”

Your palms were sweaty, and you wished you’d gone straight home. At the same time, you didn’t want to leave.

“No, I have some experience with that,” said ter Borcht. His tone was casual enough, but even you could see the trace of a flush that arose on his cheeks. “I mean — for an audience.”

You didn’t need to think to defend Valencia. It was automatic. You said, “She likes to play jokes, but she’s discreet. Trustworthy.”

“So.” He paused. His cheeks were still pink, as though it were actually cold outside. He looked away from you for a moment, at the photograph. His voice was quiet, but you heard him perfectly. “Do you… want to do it again?”

You were helpless. This was not a situation you were equipped to deal with. Your prior experience in love was minimal at best, and you’d essentially written the whole thing off as something that happened to other people. But now, it seemed, it was happening to you.

“Yes,” you said before you could think about it. You remembered his hands, knotted in the front of your shirt. “Yes, I want that.”

He took his glasses off, and slipped them into his shirt pocket; you set your half-full glass of water on the coffee table. You’d never been so aware of your own tongue. A horrible feeling came over you that now he was going to laugh at you, and your stomach tightened. You suddenly wanted another beer, or anything that would take the edge off, make you feel less like you were looking over the side of a tall building.

Ter Borcht looked at you and smiled gently. Backlit by the light from the kitchen, his hair shone like sunlight. He put out his hand to cup the back of your head; for no reason you could name, you turned away from him. His skin smelled clean.

“Hey,” he said. Your eyes felt dry and overused. “Hey, hey — what are you thinking about?”

His voice was soft, but consolation wasn’t what you wanted. Heart pounding, you turned back, leaned toward him and kissed him like it was the last thing you’d ever do on Earth.

///

For one heart-stopping moment the next morning, you were happy. It was a weekend, and you were in a warm bed, under the covers. Your life felt like a never-ending sprint sometimes, and your body welcomed any chance for rest. You laid there and dozed for a while, blissful in your ignorance of what time it was.

Then you noticed that these were not your blankets; this was not your bed, nor your apartment. The pillow smelled like someone else’s shampoo. You were not at home at all.

Your body threw itself into motion, rolling over and groping for the bedside table, where, thankfully, your glasses were folded. Your clothes lay disordered on the floor by the bed, and you dressed in a hurry. You couldn’t hear ter Borcht moving around the apartment, but that didn’t reassure you. Maybe he was just quiet at home. He seemed like the type. You opened the bedroom door as though he might be standing on the other side of it.

He was not. The lights were off, and morning sunshine streamed in through the sliding glass doors to the tiny balcony. Your shoulders relaxed.

Part of you wanted to linger, to look around the apartment by daylight — you were invited into other people’s lives so seldom that this was a rare opportunity indeed for you. But it seemed sadly vacant and quiet with its owner absent, and it was an emptiness that cried out to be filled. So you left. You slipped your shoes on, closed the door behind you, and fled for the relative safety of your own apartment.

You found no refuge there. It looked exactly like it had when you left the night before, but now the familiar disarray seemed pathetic. You’d left the blinds closed, and after the sunny openness of ter Borcht’s apartment, your gloomy living room seemed that much darker. There were still cardboard boxes pushed into the corners of the room, left where you’d put them when you moved in.

You took your shoes off and collapsed onto the couch. You still didn’t feel entirely awake, or entirely in your body. You wanted to go back to bed and sleep for a thousand years. You breathed deeply.

Then you reached for the side table, picked up the phone, and called Valencia.

There was a little bit of an edge to her voice when she answered. “Valencia Martinez.”

“It’s Jeb,” you said — and that was about as far ahead as you’d imagined this conversation going, so you quit. I mean, really, you rationalized to yourself, how can I even tell her about —

Hell, you couldn’t even think about it to yourself.

“Did you just get home?” Her voice had softened just a little. From the angle of the sun — you still hadn’t seen a clock, and you hadn’t worn your watch to the party — it was mid-morning, and she probably didn’t get a lot of phone calls on Saturdays. Or maybe she did. You only had your own personal life to judge by.

“Yes.”

For some reason, she laughed. “Have a good night?”

Fragmented memories swept over you. You couldn’t say anything; you thought of the smell of his shampoo on the pillow when you woke, faint but spicy, unfamiliar and exotic.

And you remembered how, after he’d kissed you in the living room, he’d taken your hand in his and raised it to his lips to kiss it, as if he were a knight, and you his lady. He kissed you like he wanted to do it — like he wanted to put his lips on every part of you. To stake a claim on you. The shock of discovering that you were an object of desire, that someone could want you, ran through you still, like the vibration of a struck gong. Your palms were a little sweaty just thinking about it.

You said, “Yes.”

She paused for a moment, then said, “Wanna go to Denny’s?”

The most inviting thing in your fridge was some half-finished Chinese takeout. You agreed to go.

“Great,” she said. “I’ll come get you.”

///

“You’ll feel better if you eat,” she said. Food was the absolute last thing you wanted. Your stomach was a clenched fist in the middle of your torso.

But you’d already let Valencia force a glass of water in you, and once she’d gotten her way, there was no stopping her. She was going to get you to eat; there was no real point in resisting. You stared listlessly at the menu. Toast. You could probably handle some toast.

She looked at you across the table and said, “Let me order.” And before you could object, she went on. “Take the leftovers home with you. Or I’ll eat them, or something. But you look like shit—”

Oh, God. Did you?

“— and you need to eat.” She pointed at you. “And then you’re going to tell me about last night.”

“You just want to gossip about me,” you said, but you didn’t really mean it. She had as much of a stake in the School as you did, and destroying your reputation would destroy it as well. And she knew much worse things about you, anyway — if she wanted to take you down, she would have done it already.

“Only a little,” she said, and grinned. She flagged down the waitress.

Valencia ordered a pot of coffee, and what sounded like half the menu to go with it. You waited until the waitress left to ask what the hell a Moons Over My Hammy was.

“You’ll see.” She sipped her water. Her bracelets clicked against each other as she set the glass down. “So. Where does he live?”

The whole drive over, you’d been paralyzed by thoughts of what she might say to you. And it wasn’t like you could really resist answering her questions. She knew exactly how to push your buttons. “Same building as me.”

“Makes the walk home shorter,” she said. You had to laugh; you couldn’t help it. You had fled in such a hurry, you couldn’t even remember the trip from his apartment to yours. “I thought — well, I mean, for all I knew, he was sleeping in the lab somewhere. Always shows up early, and he leaves after I do.”

You hadn’t noticed, but then again, he didn’t work in your department. If he was working longer days than Valencia, that was saying something. “Really.”

“I wasn’t even sure he’d come to the party,” she said. “Like, it might be too much fun for him. But he came.”

“He sent an RSVP, didn’t he?” You’d seen his name on the sign-up sheet, inscribed in neatly-formed handwriting that made yours, on the line above it, look childish. There was an undertone of stale cigarette coming from the smoking area. It did nothing for your appetite.

“Yeah. But you know how it is.” She waved a hand dismissively.

The coffee arrived, and Valencia let you get through half a cup before she went on. “It’s been a while since I had one of these conversations, so I’m just going to ask one more question, and then I can try to give you advice.”

You steadied yourself a little. She at least seemed to have a roadmap for whatever type of conversation it was that you were having. You, on the other hand, were hungover and clueless.

Valencia leaned toward you and looked at you directly. There was a serious look in her brown eyes.

She said, “Do you want to see him again?”

“What?”

Which was, of course, when the food arrived.

Once the waitress was gone, she repeated herself. “Do you want,” she said calmly, “to see him again?”

“Well...” You poked at your scrambled eggs, trying to buy yourself time to think. “I mean, I can’t really avoid him, it would look weird --”

“I mean, like, a date,” she clarified. “You’re gonna see him around anyway – and I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who would kiss and tell. So unless you start telling people, no one is gonna know.”

You looked out the window, avoiding her gaze. It was a clear, cool day, and the section of sky you could see over the buildings outside was a promising blue.

“I don’t know what I want,” you said.

- - -

2

You did what you had always been so good at doing, and pretended that none of it had ever happened.

On Monday, you went back to work with your heart in your mouth, sure that somehow word would’ve gotten around and you would be out of a job. But instead you found something else: absolutely nothing had changed. The gate guard greeted you by name before going back to his crossword; the building did not crumble when you walked inside; even the air smelled the same, that cocktail of cleaning products, preservatives, and dust still intact. Every cell in your body ached with tension, and you could not make yourself relax.

You didn’t see ter Borcht at all for another few days, but that was normal. Your offices were at opposite ends of the building, and on different floors – and these days you seldom found yourself in the labs, where you otherwise might have crossed paths. After the buyout, you’d found yourself the most senior employee left standing, and while Itex ground through the process of finding a suitable replacement, you had been serving as interim CEO. Which often left you feeling like an actor who had forgotten his lines – you knew lab work, and a little about the bureaucracy that that entailed, but all your duties as a CEO seemed to involve either interminably dull meetings, or frustratingly opaque paperwork.

Valencia, your partner from the word go, had wiggled her way out of consideration for the position of CEO, and though she laughed at your complaints, she was also quick to reassure you that it would someday end, and you’d be back in the lab. “One day at a time, that’s all you can do,” she counseled.

But now you were glad to find yourself once again drowning in mundanity. Here was the latest report from Itex on their CEO search – they were down to three candidates, but were pausing the process until after the new year. Reports had come in from the avian recombinant project – things were creeping towards completion in primate trials, and they were beginning to look ahead towards the use of human subjects. The IT department needed to perform system maintenance, which meant taking the servers offline overnight. And on and on. None of it, you found to your dismay, required your full attention; none of it had the power to distract you for more than a few minutes.

Your memories of the party began to fade as the days passed, to your relief. You picked at their edges like you would at a scab; some details just wouldn’t go away fast enough. Such as the fifteen minutes you’d been trapped listening to someone’s husband lecture you about deep-sea fishing, and every time you caught Valencia’s eye, she smirked. Or the sad, drab feeling that the room had after the party was over – the sudden lack of life that came with its metamorphosis back into an ordinary conference room.

The things you most wished to bury, though, refused to stay dead. They seemed to follow you.

When you stayed late at the office one night, the week after the party, you stopped for a moment after starting your car to go home. The clear night sky through your windshield looked just the same as it had then; ter Borcht had said something about the stars that night, but you couldn’t remember what. Something about how close they had seemed, how clean the air was. You hoped that if you did remember what he’d said, that scrap of memory would lose its urgency and simply vanish.

You’d never thought of yourself as a romantic person – you’d even come to appreciate its total absence from your life. As though it made you cleaner, in some metaphorical way. Your heart was a carefully-tended garden, and love was a weed you’d eradicated.

But now it – or something like it – was trying to grow back, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

It would’ve been one thing if your feelings had stayed localized to the places where the events of that night had actually happened: the conference room, your car, his apartment. You had a whole life outside those places, outside what had happened there. The problem was that the two seemed to be growing into each other. Merging. You didn’t like it.

A week after the party, you were shaving and stopped partway through without planning to; it took you a moment to retrace your steps and assess the wordless thought that had stopped you. Against the white background of shaving cream, your mouth stood out in isolation. You captured the thought: these are the lips he kissed that night. You threw down the razor, and it clattered in the sink.

It was clear that you were going to need more time to get over the whole incident.

#maximum ride #long post #marlowe writes maximum ride

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (419): Wed 10th May 2023

Up early for a visit to the doctors this morning about an issue that has needed to be resolved for some time. In recent years I’ve found myself constantly worrying, overthinking, instantly picturing the worst possible outcome of every decision I make and unable to find the enthusiasm to even do things that I like. I also try to avoid other people like the plague and having to even exchange friendly banter with them makes my skin crawl. I think it’s pretty obvious to anyone reading this that my anxiety has really gotten out of control in recent years. The therapist I saw a while back tried her best to help treat my anxiety but it was to no avail (and to be fair she was trying the help me treat it while I was working in a call centre so she was fighting an uphill battle). When the therapy (specifically CBT) failed to ameliorate any of the issues associated with social anxiety disorder I realized that if I was ever going to get better it would have to be through medication. I thought that I was going to have to have a lengthy dialogue with the doctor because anxiety has become a bit of a buzzword these days and I wouldn’t be surprised if doctors are a bit suspicious that people have self diagnosed themselves with anxiety. I told the doctor about all the constant overthinking, the dark thoughts, the constant apprehension I have when it comes to venturing out of my comfort zone and having to interact with others and the lack of motivation to do even the things that I enjoy. I also mentioned that when I got diagnosed with BFS a few years ago the neurologist told me that it is typically triggered by anxiety. The doctor gave me a questionnaire to fill out in order to determine what level of anxiety I was at. The questionnaire had a possible high score of 30 and I scored 27. Five years ago I would have been shocked by this revelation but recently things have gotten so bad that my immediate reaction was that it sounded completely accurate. The doctor gave me a card for Mind the mental health charity and she’s given me some meds and told me to increase the dosage over the coming weeks. I’m glad that I’ve finally decided to stop burying these issues and hoping they resolve themselves. Hopefully I won’t be such a nervous wreck anymore and maybe it will also help treat the twitches in my calves too. I finally finished “reading” Cimarron Rose, the latest book in my quest to read all the winners of the Edgar Award for Beat Novel. Once again it’s an entry that is probably much more entertaining than k gave it credit for but I’m the kind of reader who needs to be gripped right from the start or else I’ll just be phoning it in for the remainder. The plot is about a cop defending a young black man who he suspects has been falsely accused of rape  (I know there will be some far-left people who don’t recognize the term “falsely accused of rape” but people do actually lie. It happens). There’s also a subplot about being haunted by the ghost of a Navajo he accidentally shot dead but the novel as a whole wasn’t enough to captivate me. Maybe if there was a third subplot about a demonic dog who shoots flaming turds out of its arse and is going around Edinburgh killing people. I don’t know how the author could have worked that into a story set in the American badlands but if he’s a good author he would have found a way. The two items on my bucket list I’m determined to cross off before this year are to get my weight down to twelve stone and to finish reading all the Edgar books. I’m going to plow through the remaining 24 books in the series so that I can finally move on to my next challenge. Luckily the next book in the series Mr White’s Confession by Robert Clark arrived today so I’m going to jump right into it tomorrow.

[strangelysamantha]

crashing ☆

rafe cameron x gn!reader.

warnings: reader gets injured, car crash, swearing.

words: 3,106.

summary: rafe is waiting for you to meet him at figure 8, but he’ll be waiting awhile as you got in a tragic car accident, the other vehicle being driven by his father.

request? no! requests are opened!

a/n: use of they/them pronouns. like and comment if you enjoy this story! thanks <333

my masterlist

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“alright baby. of course. i love you!! yes, i’m leaving now.” rafe was on the other side of your phone, ensuring that you were ready for your dinner date. the two of you have plans to meet at the figure eight. you will eat at a nice restaurant, and then finish the date off with a scroll through the park while watching the sunset. rafe had planned the whole thing out, excited he could finally show you how much you meant to him. rafe smiled, “okay babe. i’ll see you in a few. i can't wait to see your precious face.” heat rushes to your face because of rafes words. “see you in a few.” you hang the phone up, grabbing your car keys.

you walk to your car that is sitting in your driveway. you hop in, starting your car. you put your seatbelt on, using your phone, you do a map search to the location rafe had sent you. you turn the music up slightly. you check behind you for passing cars or pedestrians, and when the coast was clear, you pulled out of your driveway, and started the drive to rafe.

you had only been driving for five minutes. you were caught at a red light. your light turned green so you pressed the gas to go. immediately a large black car t boned straight into you, hitting you head on. luckily, it had smashed into the passenger side, but the weight from the other car caused your car to shift, making you to hit your head against your steering wheel, and the car's window. the car crashed into a light pole. you were on the border between the cut and figure eight. nobody was ever there unless they were passing by. you struggled to look up, trying to see if you knew who had crashed into you.

the car that slammed into you looks vaguely familiar. you understood why when the guy who jumped out of the car was none other than ward, rafe’s father. you frowned. he rushed to your car, ready to yell at you but panicked when he saw who you were. ward immediately ran back to his car. he hopped into his car, speedily driving away.

you feel around for your phone. when you finally find it, your screen is cracked, and the screen is black. it won’t turn on. the phone must have slipped from your cup holder onto the side of the door, causing it to break. you drove your car forward so you weren’t positioned into the middle of the street. you shut your car off. your head begins to feel light headed, you close your eyes, trying to make the pain minimal. your eyes shut, and you could feel yourself slowly passing out. you try to stay awake, but the sleep engulfed you.

rafe was panicking. you were never late. well, yes you run late, but never without texting first. anytime you ran into trouble you would immediately message him and let him know. he hated this. he didn’t know what he should do. he tried to call your phone but it went straight to voicemail. he exited the restaurant, searching for either you or your car but he couldn’t find either. he frowned to himself. did you intentionally miss dinner? did he do something wrong? rafe was scared, what if you were in danger?

rafe pulled his phone out. he set his feud aside, calling pope. pope glanced at the caller id that was currently ringing his phone. he was shocked to say the least. “rafe?” pope questioned through the phone. pope didn’t want to answer but if rafe truly needed something from pope, he wouldn’t hesitate to get it from him in person. he knew it would be easier if he just answered and figured out what he needed. “pope?” rafe bombarded pope with questions about you; and your whereabouts. pope was confused. he hadn’t seen you since this morning.

“i’m sorry rafe, but i haven’t seen them since early this morning. i’m down the street from their house if you want me to knock on their door?” rafe sighed, “please. see if they are home.” pope nodded. “alright one second.” pope rushed to your front door. he knocked three times. “the car isn’t here, they seem to have left.” rafe smiled. “okay. thank you, pope. i appreciate it, man.” rafe felt relieved. “no problem.”pope hung up. you had actually left to meet him at the restaurant. but if that was true, why weren’t you at the restaurant yet?

rafe decided to stay put. he got confirmation that your car was gone. that shows you had safely left your house. if you don’t show in the next ten minutes then rafe would go looking for you.

you kept dozing in and out of consciousness. after the third time of passing out, you actually stay awake. you open your car door, stumbling out of it. your head hurt, and you felt light headed. you look around, no civilians. you yell out, but no one is around to hear. “HELLO??” you walk away from your car, just a little bit. you take in your surroundings. you walked back to your car.

you try to turn your car back on but the engine is stalled, it doesn’t even sputter again. you sink into the seat, laying your head on the head rest. you pull down the little mirror, examining your face. you hadn’t noticed, but the top right of your forehead was bleeding. It looked to have a pretty big gash. you had a bruise on your left cheek from when your head slammed against the steering wheel. you look at the time, noticing that it was ten minutes past your date with rafe. you jumped out the car, walking towards your house once more.

before you could step inside, you ran into pope. you noticed he peeked through your window. “peeping pope, why are you looking through my window?” you laugh at the added nickname. he stayed still, thinking of an explanation. “rafe called me saying you were late to something and he was worried.” he finally turned around, glancing at you. “what! what happened to your face?” he rushed towards you automatically inspecting the cut and bruises.

“i got in a car accident, ward cameron t boned into me.” you continued, “he got me good. slammed my head against the window and the steering wheel.” pope shook his head, panicked. “we have to get you to the hospital! you had two blows to your head; that's double the chance of internal bleeding.” pope helped you, carrying you inside his dad's car. he speedily drove you to the hospital, signing you in. they took you back, while pope stayed seated in the waiting room.

someone was going to have to call rafe; and it certainly wasn’t going to be pope. before going into the back room, you had handed pope your phone. he plugged it into the quick charging station to see if it was dead. sure enough, the low battery symbol turned on. the phone automatically turned on, showing the numerous mixed texts from rafe. pope ignored them, not wanting to be the one to answer them since it wasn’t his phone.

rafe decided to check your location one last time. the first few times he had checked, it said your location services were off. he didn’t know why it said that, he honestly believed it to be some glitch. rafe’s air got stuck in his throat when he saw your location had updated to being inside the outer banks hospital. he jumped in his car, not even thinking twice. he drove straight to you.

he gave himself a prep talk, telling himself to just remain calm and to see what was going on. he walked into the hospital, his eyes searching for you. he didn’t see anyone he recognized until he saw pope, with your phone situated in his hand. he walked towards pope, snatching the phone from his arm. “why do you have this?” pope shook his head, muttering under his breath. “shit.”

“come on pope. spit it out.” pope shook his head. “rafe, before you do this protective bullshit, just know i’m actually the one who saved them.” rafe stared at pope, confused. “saved them? from what? what do you mean saved them?” rafe questioned pope, “someone crashed into them while they were driving to you. they found me and i rushed them here.” rafe stared at pope. “how bad is it?”

pope shrugs. “i’m sorry, i really don’t know much. they said they were t boned, their head hit the window and the steering wheel. we drove by the car, it’s totaled. crashed into a pole.” rafe continued to stare at pope with wide eyes. “what… how long ago was this?” pope looked out the hospital windows. “a little after they left their house i’d say. it was a seven minute drive from my house to the crashed car, so i’d say five minutes.” rafe sat in the seat directly to popes left.

rafe was breathing erratically. his mind running wild with the amount of possible outcomes. the nurse walks out into the waiting room; and calls your name. rafe immediately stands up walking forward. “we believe the car crash caused them to undergo serious head trauma. no signs of internal bleeding; but we are still checking everyone in a while. you can go back and talk to them if you want.” the nurse smiles softly. rafe looks back at pope, and pope nods his head.

rafe continues, following after the nurse as she leads him to your waiting room. when he walked inside, you were peacefully sleeping. “they should be waking up soon. we truly believe that they will be okay.” rafe nodded at the nurse, watching as she left him. rafe’s hand reached up to yours, grabbing it. he scooted the chair closer to the bed. rafe quickly texted pope saying that he was okay to leave, and that he would keep pope updated.

the wait at the doctors felt like hours, but rafe stayed with you the whole time. he had sat on the chair by your bed, his hand always holding yours. the nurse comes back in. “i’m sorry sir, but visiting hours are over, usually we would allow people to stay the night but in this case they really need rest and if they wake up and you’re here; they will force themselves to talk to you.” rafe frowned, “they have a chance to wake up, and now you want me to go home?” the nurse frowns at him. “i’m sorry, but they need to sleep as much as they can, you can see them bright and early tomorrow morning at seven am.” rafe slowly lowers his head. “okay.”

he walks out of the hospital room, and to his car. he decides he will go home, get clothes prepared for you, and will try to figure out your car situation. then he would sleep, wake up, and meet you at the hospital right when visitation opens. he put his seatbelt on, driving home.

when rafe reached his house he realized that his dad's car had crashed in the front. it looked gruesome. rafe walked inside, greeting his dad. his dad nodded his head in response, walking away. rafe went straight to wheezy, his sister. he knocked on her door and went to open it. “rafe?” she questions him. he looked around. “what happened to dad's car?” he hoped wheezy knew. she tilted her head inviting him inside her room.

she began to whisper. “okay, so basically like our dad t boned someone on the outside of the cut, and he said it’s completely the other person's fault; but sarah believes that’s not true unless he didn’t actually t bone someone, and he was actually just getting brake checked on the highway. how could it not be his fault?” wheezy looked up at rafe’s face and was utterly shocked by his expression.

“rafe? why are you looking at me like that?” wheezy tilted her head to the side, confused. “our father is the reason..” rafe shakes his head, now pacing up and down the floor. you were in the hospital, because of his father. he filled wheezy in, telling her about what happened with you. she gasps in shock. “what are you going to do?” wheezy watched him, he was frantic. “i’m, i think i’m going to confront him.” wheezy half smiled, “okay. you got this! good luck!”

rafe left his sisters room and head to his fathers office. he was always scared of his father, now more than ever, but he needed answers. he knocked three times on the door, and his father opened it, to reveal himself. “hello rafe.” he walks inside, sitting on the chair in front of his desk. “dad, i know you are the reason the car is crashed; and you are the reason someone very important to me is in the hospital.” his dad stood up, straightening his back. “no. they twisted the story, now out. i won’t have you critique me in my own room.” rafe wanted to stand his ground, but he knew he should back down.

he didn’t want to waste all his energy, he still needed to prepare to see you. rafe went straight to his room, picking out a pair of his sweatpants, and a hoodie for you to change into after you get released from the hospital. he put the extra clothes including a pair of your socks into a baggy. rafe speedily changed into pajamas, and hopped into bed. hoping the morning would come faster.

rafe woke up at 6:20am. he had taken a quick shower and changed into new clothes. he grabbed your bag of clothes and hopped into his car. he drove straight to the hospital. he had arrived five minutes before visitation started.

at 7am on the dot, rafe was walking to your room. you were awake, the frown on your face caused his heart to drop. “hey baby.” you glanced up at him and softly smiled. “hey rafe.” he smiles in return. “how are you? i brought you extra clothes.” he lifted the baggy up, before setting it on the extra chair. you reach your hand out to him, and he swiftly moves closer to you. he pulls the chair up once again, sitting directly by your side. “i would have stayed here all night but i was kicked out.” you nod at his words, “sound about right.”

he smiles, his hand tracing shapes on your palm. “how are you feeling?” you wait. “i’m okay. the doctor said the worst thing i have is a concussion. they said if all the other tests come back good, then i’ll be cleared to go home.” he nods smiling, “yay! we’ll be able to take you home!” you bite your lip containing your smile, but it quickly turns sour. you frown at him.

“i’m sorry, rafe.” you look away from him, avoiding eye contact. “for what?” he questions, his heart speeding up scared at what you are about to apologize for. “for missing our date, i really wanted to go.” you frown. he cups your chin. “it’s okay, trust me. i already have it rescheduled,” he looks over at you. “so once you get better, we can go on like we originally planned.” the room went silent, the only thing being heard was the heart rate machine slowly beeping.

“rafe i love you.” he smiles. “i love you too.” you nod contentedly. the doctor walks in, “good morning. today you’ll be able to go home. you seem to only be suffering from a concussion. you’ll have to stay home and rest, don’t do too much or else you’ll be delaying the inevitable. the less time you relax, the longer you’ll be suffering.” rafe talked to the doctor as you played with the tape from the iv inside your hand.

rafe nodded. the nurse came over to you, taking the iv out, as well as the square patches that covered your chest. she left, shutting the door, allowing you to get dressed in new clothes. you frown, the medicine they gave you makes you feel slightly sluggish. “i’ll help you, don’t worry.” rafe untied the medical gown, he slipped it off. he grabbed the hoodie, placing it over your head. you slip your arms through the holes, rafe’s smell surrounding you.

you sit up in the bed, your feet over the edge. you hiss at the cold floor which hits your sock less feet, making you cold. rafe slid his sweatpants on to you. you go to stand up, but he stops you. “let’s put your socks on first, the hospital floor is cold.” you sit back down on the bed. his hand reaches for your foot, it is cool around his hand. he slid your socks on, and then the sweatpants. finally putting your shoes on. “thank you rafe.” he tied the plastic bag shut, it now filled with your old clothes. “anytime baby, i’m always here for you.” you stand up, your hand slipping into his hand, his arm stabilizing you.

the nurse walked in. “the medicine we gave you should be wearing off shortly. that’s why you seem so… out of place.” the nurse nodded, signing you out. the nurse walked you to rafes car. fear began to creep up, now nervous to be in a car again. “it’s okay, you’ll be okay.” you nod. you sit yourself in the passenger seat. rafe thanked the doctors, before running to his side of the car. he hopped in, putting his seatbelt on. he looked over to you, making sure you were okay. he drove extra careful, going straight to your house.

once you arrive at your house, the medicine wears off allowing you to be able to be yourself. you walked to your front door. rafe used his spare key to unlock the door. once inside you go straight to your room, rafe following after you. you lay down on the bed, you pat the spot by you; and rafe sat down by you. he cuddled with you. his head finding its way in your neck, his arms wrapping around your torso.

after a few minutes of silence you spoke up. “your dad is the one that hit me. he ran through a red light.” rafe frowned against your neck, whispering. “i know.” you nod, your hand running through his hair. “okay.” you smile softly, closing your eyes. falling asleep with rafe by your side.

<33

#rafe cameron x reader #fiction #writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #obx writing #obx fanfic #rafe cameron story #rafe cameron angsts #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x gn!reader #outer banks story #rafe cameron x gender neutral reader #gender netural reader

[andnofcksweregiven]

ASL

Pairings: Jeff Wittek x reader

Warnings: none that I can think of- weak ending though

~btw I don’t know what it’s like to be deaf or lose your hearing, this is purely based off what I’ve heard from people I know who are going through this. I’m sorry if it isn’t 100% right.~

Synopsis: Losing your hearing at a rapid pace is scary, almost as scary as finally telling someone.

You felt petrified. You get taught to handle all types of situations whilst growing up- for instance, how should you react when there’s a stranger who won’t leave you alone. However, this, this is something no one has ever prepared you for.

80% of your hearing lost, slowly over the course of 2 years and progressively getting worse- hiding your hearing aids under your hair, a beanie or hood. Luckily it was easy to hide from your friends, especially with the hearing aids getting the percentage to 50. 

At the back of your head you knew there was no point of hiding it, your friends would still love you and have your back but there was something keeping you from saying anything. Maybe it’s the fact you hadn’t processed the idea yourself- at some point you’ll be completely deaf. No music, no morning chirps from the birds, not hearing anyone's voices.

Currently, you was situated on the floor cross legged and flipping through different flyers for sign language lessons. Suddenly, a vibration on your thigh snapped you out of the stress induced coma. A notification was lit up on your phone screen, Jeff. A name that caused a smile to tug at your lips but fill your heart with guilt and sadness. 

Jeff and you have always been honest to each other- no rock unturned, no secrets unsaid (well almost all secrets) everything laid out flat in front so there was no surprises. 

Jeff

~ i’m coming over in 10 

y/n

~ and who said you could

Jeff

~ i did.

~don’t you know i’m a v.i.p ;)

This was it. An opportunity to share this with someone. Where you actually going to take it? Hell no, it’ll make it too real. Quickly, you started to gather all the flyers and rushing to a nearby draw to hide them, to busy to notice your door unlocking, to busy to realize that you had put your hair up into a messy bun, to busy to notice your bestfriend standing at the door until a loud forced cough cut through the air.

You turned and slowly looked up into his brown eyes, soft and light like the personality he tries to hide. A wide pearly smile adorning his face however slowly going down as his eyes left yours and darted left and right. 

“y/n? umm” he lightly licked his bottom lip still staring at your ears “y/n why do you have hearing aids?”

“Oh you know, trying to set a new trend. Like how people wear fake glasses to look cool even though their eye sight is great” the laugh that left your mouth felt as bitter as the words you spoke.

“y/n/n...” finally his eyes were set back on yours, cautiously making his way over to you until you felt his large frame engulf you into an embrace, one you desperately needed. Clutching onto the front of his shirt, tears escaping and staining his shirt. “Come on y/n/n, you really think I don’t know when you bullshit me?” 

“Well, kind of, I did bullshit for 2 years” 

Pulling back, his arms keeping you far enough to stare deeply into your eyes “What? y/n what the hell? I thought we was the type to share everything, no rocks unturned and all that?” 

Guilt flooded you, hearing an almost broken voice coming from his mouth until you got hit with the realization- this isn’t about him, this was a big secret, a scary one, and yet he’s trying to act like the worst thing is that you didn’t tell him.

You shoved Jeff harshly away from you, furious at him for even trying to make you feel like shit for not mentioning it. “Hey Jeff, news flash, maybe I didn’t say anything because I’m scared. Maybe I didn’t say anything because I’ve still not processed the idea that I won’t be able to hear your annoying voice or Nerfs heavy breathing. But hey, lets just talk about how it must suck that I didn’t say anything for 2 years, and how difficult and hard it must be for you” Sarcasm laced your voice.

“y/n I didn’t mean it like that I just-”

Before he could finish speaking, you spun on your heel and headed to your room “just leave me alone Jeff”

“y/n”

“No! Go away Jeff!” 

“Fine! I’ll go, I’ll leave you alone, obviously that’s what you want!”

“Yeah it is, that is what I’ve been saying isn’t it?” The slam of the door closing behind Jeff reverberated off the walls of your now suffocating apartment. This wasn’t what you expected, this wasn’t how you imagined things going once someone found out.

Over the course of a month, you were still avoiding Jeff and his futile attempts to contact you. It wasn’t that you was mad or hurt by what had transpired in the apartment, it was more embarrassment if anything. Your reaction wasn’t completely fair on him, he was your bestfriend who thought you would tell him everything- big or small- so of course he’d be taken a back to find out something had been happening for 2 years. 

When you weren’t avoiding Jeff, you was busy with day to day tasks and additionally you’ve finally chosen a sign language lesson to attend. They’ve managed to teach you the basics and given you booklets with pictures to be able to practice at home. Usually, you’d practice most of the time early in the morning when you couldn’t sleep properly, almost like clockwork at this point.

You were currently sitting on your soft duvet at 4 in the morning, mimicking the picture in your booklet whilst occasionally looking up at the long mirror opposite the foot of your bed. Caught off guard, you heard a faint rapid knock on your apartment door.

You trudged out of bed, slightly exhausted from staying up so many hours, and cautiously opened the door only to find Jeff standing, disheveled and almost as exhausted as you- maybe more. 

“Jeff, what are you-”

“Just listen ok?” he said with a graveled voice which was like comforting music to your ears, after weeks of not hearing it. ”Ok?” he asked again, you nodded.

“I know you’re scared and, fuck, I’ve been thinking about it and I’d be scared too, so I’m sorry for acting like me not knowing was the worst part- because it wasn’t. The worst part was you going through it alone for so long, the worst part is you thinking you have to go through it alone so I want you to know that-” his signature hand movements changed, as he focused solely on his hand placements.

“Jeff, are you trying to sign to me?” 

“I, umm, yea I am” Still focused on how he’s moving them around.

“What are you trying to say?” a slight humor in your voice as you stared at his hands and back at his face, were his tongue slightly stuck out whilst he concentrated.

“I am signing that I love you right?” his voice carried a worried tone as his head shot up to gaze into your eyes but cut short when you burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Jeff I- You just-” Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe. Finally, you were able to compose a proper response. “Jeff, you just signed I fuck cats!” 

“The hell, do I look like Shane Dawson!?” That broke you both as your laughter's filled the hallway, obviously waking up your neighbors. 

That night, everything went back to normal. Jeff and you staying over at each others to watch films (now followed by learning sign language), the texting/ facetimes, the long drives with music- except Jeff started to blast them at full volume and teaching you to feel/ recognize the rhythm with your feet on the dash of his truck. You weren’t alone, and all the rocks were finally unturned and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek fanfiction #jeff wittek imagines #jeff wittek x y/n

[arcadejohn127-9]

ok so,,, *slides u mc idea* (YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!!! I JUST WANTED TO SHARE THIS!!!)

MC that doesn't have any energy during the day, just moping around all tired. But from like, 12 AM to 6 AM, really energized and would go out and do the most Chaotic Shit TM. You know when you just come up with some crack idea at 2 AM? MC every goddamn night. Probably tried making a bathtub fly.

(if you do want to do this, please do the brothers and the undateables ^^)

XD WHY IS THIS ME???!!!!! I'm always so tired and never leave my bed but it could be 1 am and suddenly I rise from the dead and just do random things around the house

Though these aren't chaotic, mostly just the boys trying to stop you as they're tired and want to sleep but you're messing around too much. I tried to base it off my own activities and things that would seem funny - sorry if you wanted something more chaotic but I couldn't think of anything

Lucifer:

When he learned about your strange late morning/early morning shenanigans

He saw it was a way for you to finally get your school work done

Every room - and I mean EVERY - had a textbook from your different class with notes, he goes to bed late so he put them their before he tucked in for the night

He could hear your distress at the continuous reminder of work you needed to do

You knew this was his work so you went to his room

Climbing on his bed and just walked over his body

"Stop it, I'm trying to learn how to replicate the set ups from home alone."

"You can do that after doing your coursework, I'm being merciful with you, don't push it."

You just threw yourself down beside him

Pretending to suddenly fall asleep and began to loudly fake snore

You remained like that whilst Lucifer tried to ignore you

He took this as a sign of war

He was going to monitor you all day if he has to, he refuses to let your bad grades affect their image

But you got bored of snoring and left

He felt relief; his desire to sleep over weighing his desire to force you to study

When you came back with a toy gun you altered to shoot golf balls he knew thing's weren't going well

"The-more-you-pressure-me-the-more-I-won't-study."

You shot at his lower body between each words

This was definitely war

Mammon:

He was sleeping just fine until he heard his car rev up

He bolted awake and saw that his car was on, a string of curses coming from inside

He knew of your weird habit of becoming energised at ridiculous times but he wasn't expecting you to do this

He could tell it was you by your voice

He stormed up the stairs towards his car

"Oi! What are you doing in my car? Go to bed!"

You finally were able to turn off the car, just leaning on the wheel casually as if you didn't just accidentally turn it on

"I'm just cruising~ nothing to see here!"

He wasn't amused

He got you out of his car and strung you over his shoulder, scolding you for being so irresponsible and slightly bragging about how much trouble you'd be in if it weren't for him

You tried to explain you were just pretending to drive but you saw the keys still inside and got curious

He just threw you on his bed and held you, hiding his blush in his pillow

You let him fall asleep but when you tried to escape it ended up with your shoulders in a head lock and your ass stuck in the air

It seems your productive night has came to an end

Levithan:

It was a fifty - fifty chance that levithan was awake or not

But Lucifer gave him an earful about staying up late as it's effecting grades

So you betted he was asleep and your desire to game and wonder aroulnd his room set itself in motion

What made it awkward, was when you came in you heard a suspicious girly moan come from his headphones

You both just stared at each other, unmoving

"Uh- this isn't- this is just a dream, this is definitely not happening."

You checked out the game he was playing; recognizing it to be a dating sim he's been following the development of

You just nodded, shuffling over to his set up

"Scoot over dream levi, I wanna see the hot babes."

He got even more embarassed; face completely red as you sat on your player 2 chair

You put your hand on his, forcing his finger to click the mouse and watched what was happening on screen, listening to the loud music from his headphones

Luckily, the voice acting was just suspicious - like most animes - and it was a fairly cute game

You did end up swirling around in your chair aroulnd his room

Both of you coming up with strategies to get the best girl to like you

Though, too much moving and spinning made you and the chair fall over

You bonked Into his bathtub, your ribs squishing against the rim after the trip

Levi let you make all the gaming decisions to make up for it

Satan:

He planned to have some late night reading, hoping it'll make him tired enough to actually sleep

He found you sitting on the floor in the library

Torn books and littered paper was surrounding you

Then he noticed the paper stars and cranes pouring out from your lap as you froze mid fold

"That's....a thousand stars and cranes - where did you get all this paper from?"

"......the books belonged to me before you assume anything!"

He slowly nodded

He wasn't a fan of the destruction of books but they were yours so he couldn't say anything

He felt odd just leaving you in the barely lit library

Just folding paper who knows how long

He asked if you were hungry, guessing you've been awake for a long time

You just shoved paper into your mouth and began chewing

He was horrified

You immediately spat it out, cringing

"that was a bad idea.... that was gross."

He's going to get you food

When he came back he felt more energised; walking around will do that for you

So he decided to just stay with you whilst you folded the many pages of your destroyed books

It was around 6 am when you finally yawned; Satan fell asleep already

You looked at the fire place, your tired brain screaming for arson

He woke up as he heard your fits of poorly muffled giggles

You were throwing your stars in the fire as you sat a fair distance from it

When you threw the cranes, accepting some didn't fly far enough and didn't burn, he asked what you were doing

"It's survival of the fittest, only the strongest cranes survive in this paper world."

Asmodeus:

You were already in his room, you've been sleeping in it almost all day

So when you finally got out you looked around, spotting the makeup kit he got in a sponsorship

He lets his brother's or you use it as it's a spare

But if you touch his stuff; you will perish

So you decided to use that one, practising all sorts of looks and tried not to laugh when you made yourself a clown

You decided to stay in the clown makeup and go into his practice room

What was his practice room?

Well, he hates exercising Infront of people as he'll be sweaty and his hair will get ruined

So that's where he goes but the real magic was the pole in the middle of it

You felt a spark of inspiration

Looking up tutorials on your phone on how to pole dance

It did not go great

You were sliding too fast

Falling over and when you tried to spin, you would just get stuck

"I love you but if you keep disturbing my beauty sleep I will throw you out the window."

He was grouchy; his hair was barely smoothed out and arms crossed

You hugged the pole you were slowly sliding down; a long loud screech coming down

You definitely felt like a clown

"Sorry- you look handsome already so is there really any need for beauty sleep?"

He blushed, agreeing he was beautiful before giving you a "I will end you" smile

You got the hint, flattery wasn't going to work

Perhaps your pole dancing adventures can wait

Beezlebub:

He was aware of your strange energy burst at night, you were talking about it with him the other day

He's been wondering if he would ever spot you and tonight he did

He found you in the kitchen

Just chipping away at the frost on the top of the freezer trays with a small knife

He crouched down behind you, picking you up

Beel let you sit on his thigh and began to eat anything he could get his hands on

Meanwhile you were aggressively stabbing the formed ice

"Why are you doing that?"

He grabbed a handful of the ice chunks that fell from your stabbing

"Not sure what I want to do tonight and the build up was bothering me."

He didn't need to know anymore, just nodding and letting you do your own thing whilst he ate

He cleared out the entire fridge in no time

Letting you eat anything you wanted whilst you were hard at work

He noticed one part of the ice wasn't giving it to your stabbings

He just gripped it and easily broke it off

You thanked him and ignored how he was able to eat the big block with breaking it

Whenever something was too stubborn he would just break it off for you

It went on like that until you were satisfied

You closed the empty freezer and turned to your assistant

"Good work, but I'll need your help again, I can't reach the top cupboard and I know it's big enough to let me sit in it."

He got to eat more so he had no issue, helping you get into the cupboard once he was done clearing it out

Belphegor:

You were so energised yet you couldn't think of what to do

You put a spell on you to stop you from feeling pain and began to let yourself roly-poly down the hallways

You penciled rolled abit too fast at one pointand ended up thumping down the stairs

You were thankful the spell worked

It got to the point you just kept rolling around until you couldn't anymore

You padded the broom closet

Immediately doing a double take when you noticed a body In the darkness

You went over and turned on the closets light

"is there a reason you're sleeping in the broom closet?"

Belphie was grumbling, trying to hide his face from the light

He glared up at you for disturbing his sleep

"Is there a reason you're rolling around the house?"

"Touchè."

You ended up dragging belphie around the house

You felt like you committed a crime and it was fun

He was fast asleep and you were bored

You dragged him by the ankle and tried to keep his body from banging into anything along the way

You ended up bumping into Beel, he was looking for his twin, and he noticed you were dragging him

Belphie slightly woke up, waving at his brother before going back to sleep

Beel carried the two of you back to the his bedroom; hugging you both

If it weren't for these warm beefy arms you would be free! Free to terrorise all the shadows in the room

You gave up your night activities when even Belphie wrapped an arm around you

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Dia was sneaking around the house, hoping not to run into his butler

He didn't want be to be sent back to bed

He was planning to have a light night snack and see how you were going

He knew you were always doing something during the nights, it surprised him when he found out because you were always in bed whenever he saw you

He checked your bedroom and didn't see you in your bed

Suddenly, he noticed a pile of black by his feet

He saw you, scrunched up on your back with the little D's covering your body, all hugging you

"oh! I almost didn't spot you under there, are you alright?"

"I'm great~ you should join me."

The little D's You were able to scratch were purring in their sleep

He found the sight adorable as he crouched down

"I'm teaching them to love me so they can willingly become armour for when I take over the Devildom - we'll be like the rat king!"

He just quietly laughed; the prince helping you pet and scratch the little D's

He agreed you'd make a good ruler

Though he had to force himself to be silent as you started chanting whispers of 'You will be my armor' and 'rat king'

Decided to leave you and your brain washing, going to the kitchen like he intended

Though when he walked past your room again you and the little Ds weren't there

He found you in his room, pouting and dangling off the chandelier

He helped you down, asking what was wrong

You told him the little D's banished you from the cuddle pile because you kept trying to make them move as one being

He patted your head and told you you'll become the overlord some day

Barbatos:

"Why are you making pudding at 3 am?"

He already knew why, just like he knew you were here hence why he visited you

But that didn't stop him from asking

He knew you liked it when he showed his intrigue in things even if he already knew about them

"my hands demand to CREATE- oops sorry - hopefully that didn't wake anyone."

He was always surprised to see you up and about during the nights

He was always the one looking after you in the morningsa; making sure you ate and had a drink

Whilst you just laid in bed, always barely awake and unmotivated

He stayed with you, watching over you as you made your pudding

Making soft spoken discussion as he guided you through any steps you seemed to become hesitant in

You ended up making 10 batches of pudding

Barbatos eating a few whilst he watched you

When you grew bored of pudding making you ate the cups he didn't eat

Saving a few for lord Diavolo in the fridge

He complimented your pudding, telling you that they were very delicious

You felt proud; having a spark to make more food

He told you what would be best during this time of night and helped you

Though it did end up with the both of you covered in flour and barb slipping on a dropped egg

You both thought it was best to clean up and stop for the night

He was very embarassed he made a fool of himself

Solomon:

He didn't expect to find you in his working space

He knew you would be awake but didn't even think of you doing what you're doing right now

"is there a reason you're drinking my potions like their shots? I must say this is rather interesting - how many did you have?"

You wiped your mouth, your hiccup coming out as exploding bubbles

You looked at the small glass viles, and saw ALOT of them empty

More than you realized

"uh- 3?"

he just chuckled, reading the notes you made

The notes was recording what each potion did to you

He was thankful you remembered this was his safe batch

Unknown to him you in fact did NOT remember and was having a Russian roulette game with them

He sat with you, making a cure for your explosive hiccups

You happily drunk it and felt better

He laughed more when he saw your scribbles; drawing what happened to you

Solomon will be making you his potion tester from now one so beware

Simeon:

He was an early riser; awake by 3 am and usually did some writing or watched TV until he got tired again

He had a mug of tea, shuffling through the dorm

He's hung out with you plenty of times whilst you cure your late night boredom

But he was surprised when he saw you in the living room, mini flashlight in your mouth and scrubbing the floors with a sponge mop

"Oh, you don't need to clean - that's very sweet of you but don't you think it's abit early to do this?"

You looked at him, semi blinding him with the flashlight

Immediately took it out of your mouth and apologized

You agreed it was but you wanted to do it as you've been meaning to for the past week

He just nodded, letting you do your own thing whilst he enjoyed his drink

But you suddenly felt awkward; no longer wanting to clean now that someone was in the room

You made your way over to him, climbing on the coffee table and jumping onto the sofa

He was curious on why you weren't doing your thing anymore

"dunno know, just feels awkward when people watch me do stuff."

He suggested leaving you be, saying he'll stay in his room

But now you felt bad because he wanted to rest in the living room

In the end, he helped you clean and you both fell asleep in the bathtub, cuddling up with towels working as padding and a blanket

Luke:

You liked creeping Luke out

It was fun, so far you've convinced them that you're a type of demon that watches bad children whilst they sleep

But really you just wanted to feel like a cryptic, sitting in the corner of his room on a cupboard

It wasn't long for him to wake up from your staring

"I'm going to tell Simeon if you keep staring at me."

You wanted to laugh; he really was a child

Luke wasn't aware that you were a night owl, he just assumed you were always tired and sleeping

He liked to help you around the house and look after you when he could

It almost made you feel had

Almost

He's been extra stubborn about liking the Devildom to the point he's Been insulting his friends and trying to push them away

"Luke, you've been very bad, pushing your friends away just because they're a demon isn't good - embrace your friendships."

You weren't amazing at changing your voice but it seemed to work on him

He complained that it wasn't right for angels and demons to be friends

But you quickly reminded him what this whole exchange program was about

"you have been chosen to help fix the divide between the three realms, just hang out with the people you care about or I'll eat your toes!"

He immediately got scared, scrunching into himself and only peered slightly out of his blanket

He made you promise to leave him alone if he made up with the demons

You agreed, feeling bad for disturbing his sleep but thankful your plan worked

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #obey me mammon #obey me shitpost #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me beezlebub #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me luficer #obey me luke #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me imagine #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me x reader

[the-bau-quinjet]

A Song For You

Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Summary: Snippets of Steve and Reader's life together as she sings a song she wrote for him.

Warnings: mention of car accident, parents dying, mostly just fluff though

Word Count: 6413

a/n: this is a mess, but I'm happy with it. It's basically a series of blurbs that are not in chronological order so I could follow the song. It's inspired by Like My Father by Jax. :) Sorry if it's confusing, hopefully it all makes sense at the end

Masterlist

Steve had been gone for months on a mission. It wasn’t often his missions lasted that long, so of course one of the few times it happened Y/N needed to tell him something important.

She shook off the annoyance as she got ready for Tony’s gala. He wanted to celebrate the successful mission as soon as Steve and Bucky came home. Of course, everyone tried to reason with him that waiting would be better so that the two super soldiers wouldn’t be exhausted, but Tony refused to listen to logic.

“Nonsense. We’re having the party as soon as they arrive.” He stated matter-of-factly before turning to Y/N. “And you, my dear, are going to sing.”

“Tony, maybe you could at least pretend to phrase it as a question?” Pepper scolded, eyeing the woman in question apologetically.

“Sorry. Will you sing at my party?” He grinned, knowing Y/N would say yes since Tony probably already told everyone she would be performing.

“Tony, you’re a menace.” She eyed him before nodding.

“I am, and you’re wonderful!” He exclaimed. “I happen to know you’ve been working on a new song. Care to sing it for Steve at the party?” He grinned.

“I don’t know how you know about that song, but fine. I think he would like it. Avengers only though! I’ll sing something else for all the guests.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory as she finished getting ready. Luckily she was ready early because Tony came running into the room in a panic.

“He’s here!” Tony’s smile widened as he thought about the nights events. “Let’s go!” He practically pulled her from the room, far too eager to share news that wasn’t his.

Tony had Y/N set up on stage right in time for Bucky and Steve to arrive. She sat behind a piano, ready and waiting for Tony’s cue.

As the guests of honor entered the main ballroom, Tony stepped up to the microphone. Steve stared at Y/N with questioning eyes while ignoring Tony’s speech. She smiled lightly, shaking her head at Tony in an effort to explain.

Steve laughed to himself, wishing for nothing more than to hold her after a long 5 months away.

“Give it up for Y/N L/N!” Tony’s introduction came to a close, signaling for her to start playing. It really was over the top considering he was only introducing her to the people who have become family to her, but she let him do his thing.

“Thanks, Tony.” She smiled fondly at Steve before introducing the song. “I wrote this song for someone special. As you all know, my parents died in a car accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, the song’s not that sad.” She earned a few laughs from her friends before she continued. “Ever since I was little, I wanted a love like theirs. It seemed so magical. Well, I found that love.” She smiled at Steve again.

“This one is called Like My Father.” With the name of the song announce, she started singing. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

I wanna come home to roses

Today had been the day from hell for Y/N. First, she woke up late due to accidentally setting her alarm for 6 pm instead of 6 am. She rushed to get out of the tower on time, only for the subway line she was supposed to take to be closed for repairs, making rushing a complete waste since she was going to be late anyway.

In her haste to leave on time, she forwent breakfast which only made her more irritable. By the time she made it to the studio, she had missed her morning meeting and had to play catchup.

The day only got worse from there. Something went wrong with every song she was meant to work on. Sometimes it was a small thing, like a guitar being out of tune. Other times, the song just didn’t feel right. No matter how many different ideas she tried to work on, she just kept running in circles.

By lunch, she was ready to give up and just go home. Unfortunately, her label was having a meeting to discuss progress for the next album’s lead single. So instead, she tried to cheer herself up with her favorite lunch. Just when she was sitting down to eat, someone bumped into her and spilled the entire meal onto the floor.

Suffice to say, by the end of the day, she was ready to collapse into her boyfriend’s arms and sleep the weekend away. However, her boyfriend was currently on a mission out saving the world, so not even he would be able to lift her spirits this time.

She trudged down the hall toward their shared apartment, eager to take a shower and lay down. It wouldn’t be as comforting without Steve, but it was still better than nothing. Finally reaching the door, she turned the key and shoved her way inside. Instantly, she stopped in her tracks.

The scent of tomato sauce filled the air. The soft sounds of Steve’s old music floated through the air, further adding to the welcoming atmosphere. She stood frozen, eyes filling with tears when Steve noticed her. He smiled, too far away to notice the tears, before turning around to get something from the counter. He held whatever it was in both hands behind his back as he walked up to her, a frown slowly forming as he noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hands instantly moving around his body to hold her only to be impaired by a beautiful bouquet of white and peach colored roses. Her tears fell despite her smile. She eagerly took the flowers, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” She took a few deep breaths, calming herself before leaning back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve replied easily. “Do you want to talk about it?” Despite not knowing exactly what happened, Steve could tell she had a bad day.

She shook her head, her small smile growing as she inhaled the scent of the roses. “No, I just want to be with you.” She leaned further into the embrace, relishing in the comfort Steve always provided.

“That can be arranged.” Steve smiled, carrying her to the couch to eat.

And dirty little notes on post-its

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Steve left for his mission and Y/N was still finding his notes around their shared apartment. Every time she added a newly found note to the box, she read through all the previous notes as well. It never failed to cheer her up.

Most of them were simple comments about how much he loved her. Little sayings like “I love you to the moon and back” or “My love for you is as endless as space.” Despite the cheesiness, she couldn’t help but smile with each new note found.

But this newest note was… different. The 21 words scrawled on a bright blue post-it had her flushing instantly.

“I miss the way you feel pressed up against me, can’t wait to come home and pin you against the wall”

Suffice to say, Steve couldn’t come home soon enough.

And when my hair starts turning gray, he’ll say I’m like a fine wine better with age.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was flat as she emerged from their shared bedroom dressed for another one of Tony’s galas. Steve turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“What? You look amazing.” He smirked when she blushed.

“Steve. I just found a gray hair.” She pouted, holding the offending piece of hair between her thumb and pointer. “Is this what it feels like to be old?”

“You’re not old.” He chuckled at her dramatics. “And even when all of your hair is gray, I’ll love you even more. Like cheese…” He paused, trying to think of a better comparison. “And wine, you just get better with age.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before moving to throw the hair away.

“I mean it. I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.” He smiled, a familiar fondness in his eyes. She moved closer to embrace him.

“I love you too.”

I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship.

She was nearly running down the street, doing her best to slow down the dog pulling her forward.

“Hudson! Stop!” She tried to speak calmly like her manager- the dog’s owner- instructed, but it was no use. Hudson would not stop running, no matter how hard she tried to make him. “Hudson!” She yelled his name again, surprised when he actually halted.

So surprised in fact, that she was still hurtling forwards, tripping over the now stationary animal. She braced herself for impact, eyes squeezing shut and hands sticking out to catch herself, only for the impact to never come. Instead, two warms hands caught her mid-fall.

Her eyes shot open, heart racing and breathing labored. The man who caught her helped her steady herself on her feet before letting go, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She breathed out, still taken aback by the turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” He replied kindly. “You’re dog’s pretty strong.” His grimace at his own awkwardness went unnoticed by her as she looked at the dog in question.

“My friends’ dog actually. I’m dog sitting this week.” She smiled, relieved to shift the topic of conversation from her to the dog. “He normally listens really well, but I guess he really wanted to get to the park. I’m Y/N, and this here is Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Steve.” He shook her hand, blushing slightly from the contact. Before she could reply, Hudson leaped at a squirrel, pulling her off balance again. Steve reached out to steady her again.

“Here, let me help.” He shifted the leash from her hand to his own, having a much easier time resisting Hudson’s pulling.

“Thank you… again.” She smiled.

The two walked around the park with Hudson every day that week, becoming fast friends. She wasn’t offended when he didn’t recognize her as one of the biggest names in music, just as he wasn’t offended it took three walks for her to realize he was that Steve Rogers.

They understood each other, despite the wild differences in occupation. Steve could easily relate to Y/N’s aversion to the media. Y/N knew what it felt like to have a team of people relying on you. The two just clicked, and thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

A kiss on the forehead. A date night.

“Hey Steve.” She greeted him warmly when they met up for their weekly coffee. He smiled, but didn’t verbally respond.

The two got their coffee, sitting at a table hidden towards the back. Steve’s replies were short, as if he was thinking of something else during their conversation. By the fifth comment of hers that he merely nodded his head or hummed in response too, Y/N decided to address it. “Are you okay?”

“Go out with me.” He replied quickly, eyes going wide when he realized what he said. Her own eyes widened in response, taken by surprise. “Sorry! I just, I mean- let me start over.” He pleaded, relief filling him when she nodded.

“We’ve been friends for a while now…” She nodded along, eyes still wide. “But, I want more. Let me take you to dinner. And not like we’ve been doing. Let me take you on a date?” He smiled nervously, hands fidgeting with the lid of his coffee cup.

“I’d like that.” She replied simply, unable to form a more complicated sentence due to the butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” He released his breath, unaware he had been holding it. When she nodded, a wide smile appeared on his face. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.”

“You mean I have to wait?” She pouted playfully as they both stood up to leave. He laughed, moving his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the cafe.

“Just until tomorrow.” He smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before helping her into her car.

“Tomorrow then.” She smiled. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Fake an apology after a fight

“Y/N?” Steve questioned as he entered their apartment. He looked around, unsurprised to see her covered in blankets on the couch. “I’m sorry.” He tried for a small smile, knowing it was of no real use.

“No you’re not.” She pouted, rolling her eyes. “But I forgive you anyway.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. He jumped at the chance, quickly moving to hold her close to him.

“I am sorry we fought.” He spoke up after a few minutes, still trying to clear the air.

“Me too. It was stupid.” She shook her head, cuddling closer to him. “I just don’t understand why you like it.” She made a face, grimacing at just the thought.

“It’s good! Pizza has really taken on a whole new life since the 30s.” Steve quipped, smiling when you laughed.

“That doesn’t mean pineapple is an okay topping.” She could fell herself getting worked up again, but ultimately the two burst into a fit of giggles. What a stupid fight.

I wanna road trip in the summers

“Steve! You were supposed to turn there!” Y/N laughed as Steve grumbled about the GPS and his preference for maps. “This is why you should’ve let me drive.”

“Nope, because then I couldn’t surprise you.” He smirked, briefly looking at her in the passenger seat.

“What surprise?” She smiled fondly, knowing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You’ll see. Now turn off the GPS, we’re not actually going home.”

Steve drove for the next few hours until the two arrived at a small house just off the beach in Maine. He pulled into the driveway, turning to find Y/N asleep with her head pressed against the window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” He smiled at her groggy state, laughing when her eyes lit up.

“Are we in Maine?” Her eyes filled with tears, a combination of nostalgia, Steve’s surprise, and residual sleepiness the cause.

“We are. As close as I could find to where you used to come when you were little.” He responded, a shy smile on his face. Despite how long they’d been together, Steve was always nervous about surprising her. “I talked to your manager, and you’ve got the weekend off. We’re going to just relax on the beach for three days.”

“It’s perfect.” She gave him a watery smile, pulling him from the back of his neck until her lips met his. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just-“ Y/N cut him off with another kiss. It was passionate and heated despite the limited area for movement in the car.

“I love you.” She breathed out the words quickly, but meant it with her whole being. “I love you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Tears still burned in her eyes, but the overwhelming happiness she felt made it worth it.

Steve looked shocked at her proclamation, but quickly recovered. “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Y/N knew exactly what he meant with those words, and it filled her with so much happiness she thought she might combust. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

They shared a few more quick pecks before finally getting out of the car.

I wanna make fun of each other

Meeting Steve’s friends was nerve wracking for a multitude of reasons.

Steve was the only person Y/N had outside of her career. All of her friends were somehow tied to her music, except Steve. Her parents died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. If things went poorly with Steve’s friends, would he leave too?

Plus, all of his friends are superheroes. That’s an intimidating group of people to meet even if you aren’t trying to win them over so you can keep dating their friend.

“Just relax, they’re going to love you.” Steve whispered into her ear as the two rode the elevator up to the main residential floor. Steve did what he could to keep the event simple. It was just drinks with his friends, who happened to be Avengers.

“If you say so.” She smiled nervously, laughing to herself. Before Steve could reply with more words of encouragement, the elevator doors were opening. Steve lead her down the hall to a room that resembled a lounge in a fancy hotel. Bars lined two of the walls, a mixture of blue and white furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

“Ahh, here they are!” Tony Stark quickly rose from his seat, ready to meet the woman stealing away all of the Captain’s time.

“Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Tony Stark, I know.” She quipped. In her stress to meet all of Steve’s friends, she forgot to mention that she had already met the billionaire. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” Steve questioned a the same time Tony recognized you. His jaw dropped as he turned back to Steve.

“We met at a fundraiser a few years ago-“ Tony jumped in before you could finish the explanation.

“You’re dating Y/N L/N? The Y/N L/N? Famous singer-songwriter, been topping the charts for years, Y/N L/N?” He balked, eyes rapidly flicking between Steve and Y/N.

“Um… yes?” Steve questioned Tony’s reaction, unsure why he was so surprised. “I told you her name already…” He shook his head, waiting for the teasing he knew was incoming.

“You didn’t mention it was actually her! I just thought it was someone with the same name!” Tony nearly yelled, still thrown off by the surprise.

“What’s going on over here?” Natasha walked up to the trio, one eyebrow lifted at all the noise.

“Y/N L/N!” Tony gestured to her. She nervously waved to Natasha, sticking her hand out in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” She mumbled, one hand still holding Steve’s in a death grip.

“You too, I’m Natasha.” The two women shook hands, giving Tony time to finally find his words.

“I have to know, did Capsicle recognize you when you met?” Tony lead everyone back to the couches, foregoing the rest of the introductions to start pestering you with questions.

“I think he’s a bit outside of my target audience age wise. I don’t hold it against him.” Y/N replied, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh snap, she just called you old.” Sam chimed in, reaching out a hand to introduce himself. “Sam Wilson.”

You smiled at him, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Here’s the real question. Did you recognize him?” Bucky questioned, already knowing the answer. Steve introduced Y/N to Bucky early on in their friendship when Bucky followed him to one of their weekly coffee dates.

“Bucky, you already know the answer to that.” Y/N deadpanned, not eager to share her lack of knowledge on world events. Steve cut in to answer before Bucky could reply.

“She did not. Told me the name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.” Steve laughed as he teased you.

“You make me sound so stupid! I knew who Captain America was, I just didn’t realize it was you.” She huffed, annoyed with how quickly the tables turned.

Steve changed the topic by moving to introduce her to the rest of the avengers in attendance; Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and Peter.

Y/N continued to share stories with the group, laughing and joking at both her and Steve’s expense. Steve smiled fondly as he watched her interact with his friends, getting along just as well as he knew she would.

I wanna rock out to Billy Joel

“Stupid. All of these ideas are stupid. How am I supposed to put out another album when I can’t even write one decent song.” Y/N huffed to herself, unaware of Steve’s presence in the room.

He moved silently through the room as she continued writing down and crossing out ideas. Suddenly, the sound of Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire filled the room.

“Steve?” She jumped at the noise, smiling when she found him next to the record player. “Billy Joel?’ She questioned.

“You played me this song after a bad mission. Told me to think about it whenever I needed a reminder that the world’s problems aren’t my fault. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“I love you.” She got up from the couch, eager to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you too.” He returned her hug, careful not to actually crush her bones.

The two of them spent the next few hours playing Billy Joel, dancing and singing around the apartment.

And flip our kids off when they call us old

“Okay, grandpa.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! I’m the only one allowed to make fun of how old he is.” Y/N playfully glared at Sam, enjoying their newfound friendship. “Plus, he’s younger than Bucky.”

“Rude.” Bucky called from the other couch, mostly ignoring Sam and Y/N’s bickering. It was a bit weird for him to hear someone else yelling at Sam, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Everyone calls him old.” Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion playing across his face.

“Yeah, but when it’s not me I have to defend him. Like when Pepper defends Tony from Morgan.” She easily compared her and Steve’s relationship to the couple, not realizing the weight of the moment.

“You see your relationship like Tony and Pepper?” Bucky questioned, now completely focused on Y/N.

She shrugged casually, unaware of the tension she created. “I mean, yeah. I think that’s where we headed.” She would be the first to admit she loved Steve more than she’s ever loved a boyfriend before. She likes to think Steve feels the same. “Why do you ask?”

Bucky shook his head, trying his best to seem casual. “Just curious is all.” He waited a few minutes before leaving, allowing Sam and Y/N to start up their conversation again. As soon as he was out of the room, he asked Friday for Steve’s location.

He had news to report.

He’ll accidentally burn our dinner

“Honey, I’m home!” Y/N called as she walked through the door. She was in a surprisingly good mood after a mediocre day.

“You seem happy.” Steve greeted as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He pulled her close, kissing her before resting his chin on top of her head.

“I am happy. You’re here, what’s there to be mad about?” She squeezed him tighter, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

“You make me happy too.” He pulled her onto the couch, eagerly kissing her after the day apart. He had returned from a mission just before she left for work, and seeing each other in passing was not enough.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too- is something burning?” She leaned away from him, sniffing the air.

“Shit!” He jumped from the couch, running into the kitchen as you laughed at his antics.

“Steve, language!” She called out in mock shock, laughing harder as he whined about burnt pizza.

And let me be the Scrabble winner

“Steve, sucks at Scrabble? Since when?” Wanda questioned as she ate brunch with Y/N and Nat.

“Um, always?” Y/N replied as if it was obvious.

“I have never seen Steve lose a game of Scrabble.” Nat chimed in, smirking as if she already knew what was going on (and lets face it, she probably did).

“Well, I always beat him.” She shrugged. Wanda smirked, clearly forming a plan.

“Well, you’ll just have to play Scrabble tonight and Nat and I will check if he can play better words or not!” Nat nodded along having seen this plan coming.

“Fine.” Y/N agreed, knowing there was no way of talking them out of this.

-

“Steve! Let’s play Scrabble!” Y/N smiled knowing Steve would give her anything she asked for. He walked into the living room with the box, a grin on his face.

The two of them set up the game and drew letters, immediately jumping into the game. After a few turns, Y/N texted Nat and Wanda to come into the living room to enact their plan. She watched from the corner of her eye as the two women watched Steve rearrange his letters.

When he played CAT for 7 points, Wanda gasped. Steve jumped slightly, turning around to investigate the noise.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s jaw dropped as she realized Steve’s been letting her win.

“He was all set to play ADEQUATE, for probably a billion points, and he played CAT instead!” Wanda pointed accusingly at Steve while Nat just grinned.

“You’ve been letting me win this whole time?” Y/N threw a pillow at him, upset with the confirmation.

“Not every time! Sometimes I have bad letters.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “You just look so happy when you win.”

A small smile took over Y/N’s frown. How could she be annoyed when he was just trying to make her happy.

“I love you.” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog look. “But don’t go easy on me this time!”

“I love you too.” Steve smirked knowingly and suddenly Y/N was rethinking everything.

And when my body changes shapes, he’ll say ‘oh my god you look hot today’

“I look fat.” Y/N huffed as she plopped down on the couch, still trying to find a dress to wear out with Steve tonight.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve commented from the kitchen, causing her to shriek.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She placed her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating from Steve scaring her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But you do look beautiful.” He smirked as he walked closer, easily lifting her from the couch. “You look hot everyday.”

He kissed her passionately to convey just how much he believed what he was saying.

I need a man who’s patient and kind

“Steve, I need a few more minutes!” She called as she ran into their bedroom from the office. The two of them were meant to be leaving for dinner 45 minutes ago, but Y/N’s manager forced her into a last minute meeting with a potential collaborator.

“That’s fine.” He called back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, love.”

“How are you so patient.” Y/N huffed as she quickly changed clothes, annoyed with herself for delaying their plans.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. “It happens. I’ve missed dates for mission before.”

“Yeah, but that’s important.” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace.

“So is your work.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Not so important it couldn’t wait a day.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to just breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve questioned, genuinely confused.

“For being so kind and understanding. For never making me feel like my job is less important than yours, even though it totally is. For being you.” She replied, easily listing things she’s thankful for.

“Thank you for being you.” He replied casually, still holding her to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled before wiggling from his arms to finish getting ready.

Gets out of the car and holds the door

“I’m finally ready. Let’s go!” Y/N called, fully letting go of her annoyance at her manager for delaying her dinner plans.

“Perfect.” Steve grabbed his keys before turning to look at her. He sucked in a breath, eyes slowing gazing over her body. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed, kissing him on the cheek in response. Steve lead her to the car, opening the door for her, pressing a kiss to her lips before jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Where are we going?” She questioned, eager to finally be able to focus on him.

“Dinner.” He replied, a cheeky grin forming.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” She deadpanned, smiling as he laughed.

They discussed anything and everything they could think of as Steve drove to the restaurant, topics ranging from new songs they both liked to what a T-Rex would have for breakfast if it could cook like a person.

Eventually, the car pulled to a stop outside of a small, family owned Italian place. The lights were on, but there was nobody seated at any of the tables.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Y/N questioned, confused by his smile.

“They’re open… just for us.” He smiled shyly. “I wanted you to have a peaceful dinner, so Tony helped me find a place I could book for us for the night. No Y/N L/N or Captain America fans to interrupt.”

“Steve…” She trailed off, unable to form words. She hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and she was speechless. He walked back around the car, opening the door and guiding her inside. She let him lead her all the way through the building until they reached the outdoor seating.

A string of tapered lightbulbs was strung across the patio, lighting up a single table in the middle. A few candles littered the area, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him before sitting down. Before she could say anything else, a familiar face greeted her.

“My name is Sam, and I’ll be serving you this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Sam smiled at your shocked expression.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” She laughed, confused and overwhelmed with joy.

“I told you, nobody to interrupt us tonight.” Steve smiled, glaring at Sam for playing around. “Sam, I already told you what to bring out.”

“Couldn’t resist.” Sam winked, quickly returning with the drinks Steve requested. Y/N and Steve thanked him before returning to their conversation.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” Y/N spoke softly, still blown away by the effort and planning Steve must have put into this.

“I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.” He smiled, taking her hadn’t across the table. “Now, I’ll bet you’re hungry since we were supposed to eat an hour ago.” As if on cue, Sam returned with Bucky, both carrying plates of food. “Let’s eat.”

The two of them continued their conversation from the car as they ate, topics again roaming all over the place. Before she knew it, Y/N had finished eating and Sam was back with dessert.

She looked down at the peach cobbler, laughing to herself. “You know me so well.” She smiled, grinning even more when he offered to share his chocolate cake. “The best of both worlds.”

When she finished eating and looked back up at Steve he was missing from his spot across the table. Instead of sitting in his chair, he was kneeling on the patio beside the table, a velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Suddenly everything made sense. The lack of rushing, the completely private restaurant, not even having servers in the building. He wanted this to be a private moment.

“Y/N, the day I met you changed my life. I’ll have to thank Hudson for dragging you into the park that day, because I’ve never met anyone as special as you. Every moment with you is like a gift, and I want to spend the rest of my days experiencing life with you. Will you marry me?”

She nodded for a few seconds before finally finding her voice. “Yes.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Steve to delicately place the ring on her finger. “I love you so much.” She smiled, throwing herself into his arms the second he stood up.

“I love you too.” He replied, framing her face with his hands before kissing her.

I wanna slow dance in the living room like we’re 18 at senior prom

The ride home from dinner was filled with hand holding, giddy squeals, and hundreds of “I love you’s” from both Steve and Y/N. They eagerly ran back to their apartment, giggling like teenagers, high on love.

Steve quickly pulled her into the living room, kissing her over and over. She reciprocated, eager to share her happiness.

“Steve?” She questioned between kisses, waiting for him to hum in response. “Will you dance with me?” She smiled at him. Surprisingly, the two had never really danced together before. The only opportunity would have been at one of Tony’s parties, but they’re always so busy mingling with everyone.

“I’d love to.” He replied, that same fond smile on his face that she’d grown to love more than anything. She clapped, running over to the record player. She chose the first love song she could find, Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

As the music played, the two swayed together, feeling more in love than ever before. Steve quietly sung the words in her ear, expressing all the raw emotion he’d been feeling since she said yes.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Y/N joined him, singing along to convey her own happiness as well.

“And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

They danced around the living room for a few songs, letting the record play through. It wasn’t until the music stopped that they even realized the song changed, too lost in the feeling of being together.

And grow old with someone who makes me feel young

I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom

“We’re getting married tomorrow.” Y/N floated through the halls, humming Cheek to Cheek again. After dancing to it the night of their engagement, the couple decided it would be their first dance song. Steve walked up behind her, picking her up and spinning around until they reached the kitchen.

“We are.” He replied, just as elated as her. She giggled playfully, smiling wider than ever before. She was just about to say something when Nat and Wanda bust into the room.

“C’mon. It’s time to go!” Wanda called, gathering Y/N’s belongings.

“Where?” The woman questioned, still wrapping in Steve’s arms.

“You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.” Wanda spoke as if it was obvious.

“Nat?” Y/N questioned, hoping someone would understand it was just a superstition. Nat just shrugged, helping Wanda as she pulled you out of the room.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve called after her, a smile on his lips as he thought about seeing you again.

-

Standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, everything she prepared to say dissolved from her mind. She got lost in his blue eyes, listening to him recite his vows. All the love she felt exploded in one quick statement.

“You make me feel young.” She blurted out the words without thinking.

“Is that another old man joke?” He crinkled his eyebrows, confused by the exclamation. The onlookers chuckled.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” She laughed, burying her face in his chest. “I just mean, we’re grown adults.” He nodded, still confused. “But when I’m with you, I feel like a kid again. Like all my problems go away and I can just be in love with you. Like my parents were.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about the gravity of her statement.

Steve knew how much her parents love influenced her life. She had multiple songs inspired by their relationship and happiness.

“Oh, sweetheart. You make me feel young too. Like how I should have felt as a kid.” He decided against further explanation, not wanting to weigh down the ceremony with talk of war and his sickly youth.

“I just, I never thought I’d actually find a love like theirs, despite how much I wanted to. I think they would’ve loved you.” Steve wiped her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers just feeling the need to be close.

“My ma would’ve loved you too.” He replied, his own throat getting tight. They cried as they finally said “I do”, no place they’d rather be.

And if he lives up to my father, maybe he can teach our daughter

Y/N rose from the piano as she sang the last line, exposing her growing belly to the group of Avengers, but more specifically to Steve.

What it takes to love a queen, she should know she’s royalty.

Everyone cheered for her performance, but her eyes were only on Steve’s. His jaw hung open, tears pooling in his eyes. She made her way to him, everyone moving out of her way.

As soon as she reached Steve, he pulled her into a gentle hug, eagerly kissing her.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too.” She replied, just as emotional as he was.

“Are you really pregnant?” He leaned back, chuckling at the “duh” look on her face. She wiped his tears as they fell.

“I found out just after you left.” She smiled, leaning into him as he lowered his forehead to hers.

“We’re going to have a daughter.” He sounded breathless, overwhelmed with the news.

“I would’ve told you in private, but Tony insisted on having this party.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You wrote me a song.” He smiled, still holding her close.

“Oh, baby. I’ve written you dozens of songs.” She laughed when he leaned back in confusion. “They’re not all good. I wanted to finish the album before I played it for you. This was the last song.” She smiled, still overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of her.

“I love you. So much.” They spoke at the same time, swaying together as Tony invited all the remaining guests into the ballroom. They missed the song, but it was clear to everyone the room how much the two loved each other.

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

marvel taglist:

@leyannrae

@livstilinski

@oceaniamaddness

@justreadingficsdontmindme

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x singer!reader #steve rogers fic #i miss steve #why did he have to go back in time #like i get it but also im upset

[heliads]

Arguments and Abandonment

After a fight causes you to leave Brooklyn and your childhood friend Spot Conlon behind, you decide to trade your old life for Manhattan and try to forget the whole thing. However, your feelings about Spot can’t stay in the past forever, especially when you’re forced to return to Brooklyn once again.

masterlist

You had known Spot for a very long time. You’d been there with him, back when he wasn’t the King of Brooklyn, when neither of you were newsies at all. You had been much younger then, having to protect each other on the streets when all you two had were the shirts on your backs. You trusted him like no one else, and he felt the same about you.

Then, he had become a newsie. Not content to stay back, you had quickly joined the ranks as well, selling papes just as well as anyone else on the street. It didn’t take long for Spot to rise in the ranks (he’d always had a thing for leadership, people just flocked to him. People like you), and soon after that, anyone who was anyone on the streets of New York knew about Spot Conlon. Even when he had all of Brooklyn looking to him for aid, he still came to you for advice, knocking on your door late at night when he didn’t know what to do.

People came to associate you with him. After all, who’d know a guy better than the girl who’d spent most of her life with him? The two of you were always side by side, talking in hushed voices about anyone and everyone who came in your way. Maybe Spot was the King of Brooklyn, but everyone knew that you didn’t mess with Y/N unless you had a death wish. That’s just how it was, how it would always be.

And then you had the argument. It shouldn’t have been anything, shouldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds before you two made amends and forgot the whole mishap. Yet you can still hear the steel in his voice, the way the two of you had fought like you’d never fought before. Probably would never fight again, actually. You don’t think you’ll ever get close enough to him for that to happen.

You suppose the argument itself had been a long time coming. See, it was easier to get along when it was just you and him, when you were still scrawny kids messing around on the streets and getting into trouble. But Spot had been changing, getting taller, showing off muscles that hadn’t always been there. Dark locks of hair curled around his face, falling in his eyes. You had never noticed that before, never noticed any of the hundreds of details that made the boy before you Spot. Even with all the years behind you, you don’t think you’d ever seen him in the way that you do now.

You suppose you yourself had changed. You were more confident, less afraid of what others might think of you. You knew your worth, you knew what you were capable of, and you knew that you should not be spending this much time thinking about Spot Conlon, even if he was someone you’d known all your life. Especially if he was someone you’d known all your life.

So, to distract yourself, you started changing your paper route to be longer, to take you farther away from the Brooklyn lodging house. You’d get back later, set out earlier. All in all, you spent less time with Spot and more time by yourself, biding your time and pretending you didn’t care about the dark-haired boy you were doing your best to avoid.

However, even if not seeing Spot all the time was doing good things for your little crush, it certainly wasn’t great for him. Spot, who was usually used to meeting up with you after sales were over to talk through rules for the Brooklyn newsies, was suddenly left alone with no idea where you were. As you grew more courageous, venturing out on little trips by yourself to pass the time, he grew more annoyed that you weren’t reporting in to him. Eventually, his smoldering frustration and your overly breezy attitude were bound to clash in a thunderstorm of the century.

Stormy couldn’t even begin to describe it. At first, you had both been civil. He had pulled you aside into a separate room. He had asked you why you weren’t showing up at the lodging house as much, why you were suddenly skipping newsie discussions. You suppose something in his tone had bothered you, something about the fact that he seemed to feel that he could control you, and you had answered him with some sort of snarky retort. This, when Spot had been wanting a legitimate response, was the last straw.

It quickly escalated from there until you were practically shouting at each other. Why were you so afraid of responsibility? Why did Spot think he could order you around like a doll? Why were you making such a big deal out of this? Why was he? Everything came to a peak when Spot had raked his hand through his hair, clearly vexed. “You know, you’re skipping out on us so much I don’t even think we need you here.” He had said, and you had frozen mid-pace. 

“Are you telling me to leave?” You had asked, voice icy calm. Spot had looked over at you, and even from across the room you could sense the regret already building in him, the knowledge that he had gone too far. But Spot was still Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn, and so he would never back down. “I guess I am.” He had stared at you, chin held high, issuing a silent challenge. He wasn’t the only one with a Brooklyn temper, so you returned his gaze. “Then this is goodbye.” You had jerked your chin at him in a silent farewell, then spun around and headed for the door. Just as you were about to disappear completely, you saw his hand reach out to stop you, but it was too late, and you hurried away from him.

You had left Brooklyn that night, gathering up your few belongings in a fit of fury and leaving the lodging house behind. You had whispered a couple of last-minute goodbyes to your newsie friends in Brooklyn, then disappeared into the streets. You weren’t quite sure where you were going, only that it had to be away. Somewhere Spot wouldn’t find you, although you knew that the chances of him searching for you were slim to none. So, you suppose that you weren’t quite surprised when you looked up and found yourself walking through Manhattan- Jack Kelly’s turf. Well, if there’s one place Spot won’t want to go, it is here.

Luckily for you, not many of the Manhattan newsies recognized you. If there were any dealings with Brooklyn, they would usually have met with Spot instead of you, so you were just another stranger to them. You had walked through the door of the Manhattan lodging house, making your way through the throngs of boys to reach Jack Kelly. He had recognized you slightly, judging by his furrowed brow, but you had been quick to assure him that it was only because you used to be a Brooklyn newsie and had left due to a little dispute with Spot. Understatement of the century, but it would keep your cover and explain away any misgivings.

Jack had welcomed you with open arms, and you found a new home with the Manhattan newsies. It was a perfectly fine life, and you still kept selling papes as free as a bird just like you had always wanted, but something was still missing. You noticed it when you headed back to the lodging house and looked for a familiar face that wasn’t there, or when you looked out the window at night and saw a cityscape that just wasn’t quite right. You missed Brooklyn, and there was no way around it.

As much as you missed your home, you knew there was no chance that you’d go back. If there’s one thing you and Spot had in common, it’s that you had a fearsome pride that you would never be able to fully control. You couldn’t imagine walking back through those streets, and to do what? Beg Spot to let you stay? Not in a million years. It’s the same reason why Spot won’t be knocking on the door of the Manhattan lodging house to ask you to come back home with him. He would never admit that he was wrong, and certainly not in front of Jack and all of the ‘Hattan newsies.

So you stay in Manhattan, and watch the sun rise and set over and over again. Days grow old, become weeks. Soon it’s been a month, then two, then half a year. You miss Spot with every sunrise, but it doesn’t matter. You two had always been able to hold a grudge, and that’s exactly what you’ll be doing, probably for the rest of your life. There was just no other way.

You’ve finished selling your papes early. One of the nice things about Manhattan is that they’re not quite used to a girl newsie, and you’re able to get through all of your papers in much shorter time than back home in Brooklyn. So, you wander back through the twisting street corners to the Manhattan lodging house, joined soon after by Race, Elmer, Albert, Specs, and a few other boys.

This mangy group is lying around in the main room of the lodging house when Jack leans in the doorway, pretending to knock on the doorframe. “Hey, Racer, Specs, Y/N, you guys busy? I need a couple of newsies to head down to Spot Conlon’s turf. Them Brooklyn boys are causing some trouble in our zone and I need him to knock it off.” You sit up the second you hear Spot’s name. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Jack. You remember why I came here, right? Spot hates me.”

Jack waves a hand dismissively. “Actually, you said that you were good friends until one measly little argument. I need you there to make sure the other boys don’t get they asses kicked by the Brooklyn guys.” Race and Specs stand up, joining you in the squabble. Their voices ring out over yours, fiercely declaring that they could take a dozen Brooklyn boys ten to one and come out on top. 

You laugh in spite of yourself, and Jack takes that as a cue that you agree with him. “Great to see you so happy, Y/N. Now come on, it’ll be a short trip. See you later.” He ducks out of the room before you can either argue back or hit him with something, so you’re forced to turn to Specs and Race. “So, how do you feel about a walk to Brooklyn?”

It feels strange to be heading back to your old turf. Jack had assured you that you’d only be there briefly to keep the Brooklyn boys off of Race and Specs, and you wouldn’t have to talk to Spot at all. So, you keep your newsie cap wedged firmly down on your head, and do your best to disguise your face. You don’t want to be here, not at all, but you can’t risk getting kicked out of Manhattan as well. You can only join so many turfs before you run out of places to sell your papes. And then what would you do, go transcontinental?

The walk to the Brooklyn lodging house happens without incident, and you’re almost feeling like you didn’t need to come at all until you’re a few blocks away. Race and Specs are walking down the road when a figure melts out of the shadows of an alleyway and comes to stand in front of them, blocking their path. He folds his arms across his chest. “And what would a couple of ‘Hattan newsies be doing in our turf?” Race is about to issue back some sarcastic jibe when three more Brooklyn boys appear out of nowhere.

You can see this is going south, so you walk up to the boys. You’d been trailing Race and Specs by a block or so in the hopes that you wouldn’t be needed, but all eyes turn to you once you approach the gathered newsies. The lead Brooklyn boy squints at you. “Who are you? Another Manhattan kid?” You reach up and pull your hat back, grinning at your friend. “What, you forget me that quickly? I’se only been gone a couple of months.”

He recognizes you at once. “Y/N? That you?” The boy slings an arm around your shoulder. “You should have told us these kids were with you.” You laugh, gesturing for Race and Specs to continue on to the lodging house. “I didn’t think you were that excited for a fight. They’d been here barely a minute.” The two of you break into chuckles, but your laugh dies in your throat when you see a familiar figure approaching from further down the street. He calls out to the Brooklyn boy next to you. “Hey, what’s all this? I’ve said no commotion in the streets.” Then Spot turns to you, and his gaze turns stony from the second his eyes land on you.

Neither of you say a word. Specs, noticing the obvious unease circling between the two of you, steps forward. “We’re here with word from Jack Kelly. There are a few things we’se got to discuss.” Spot looks over at him, distracted, and idly gestures for the three of you to follow him back to the lodging house. You walk over to Specs and whisper a quiet thank-you to the newsie. He just brushes it off. “Trust me, it was more for me than you. I didn’t want to see you get killed this soon into entering Brooklyn.” You force a smile, but inside, your mind is reeling. You had hoped that Spot would at least look a little happy to see you, like he regrets sending you away, but you didn’t see anything but ice in his eyes.

The three of you push through the doors of the lodging house, and head down the hall to Spot’s office of sorts. You already know the way, having been there many times before, and so you’re the first one in the room. Race and Specs are about to follow you through the door, but Spot reaches out an arm and blocks their path. “I’m going to talk with her first. You can wait in the main room.” You trade gazes with the Manhattan newsies, and nod silently to indicate that everything is alright. As you watch them disappear back down the hall, you’re not quite sure whether that was the truth.

Spot waits for them to go, then shuts the door. He walks back to the center of the room, folding his arms over his chest. You’ve seen this movement many times before, but usually the object of his stone-cold stare is some unfortunate newsboy, not the girl he’s known for his entire life. Spot is the first one to speak. “What are you doing here?” His voice is quiet. You’re not used to hearing it so quiet.

You clear your throat. “Jack asked me to go with the boys. He wants to talk about-” Spot cuts you off. “I don’t care about Jack Kelly. Why are you back here?” Despite everything, despite all the time you’ve spent wishing you could be back in Brooklyn, you still feel that familiar burn of annoyance rising in the back of your throat. “Would you prefer I leave? I seem to remember you were the one to kick me out in the first place.” The sounds of the city echo in through an open window. Spot glances out at the city below, then back to you.

“As I recall, you were the one who dared me to make you leave.” Your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true at all! Yeah, we were arguing, but I’m not the one who said that I wasn’t needed. That you didn’t want me here.” Spot takes a step forward, and even this slight closeness makes your breath hitch in your throat. “I never wanted you to go. I know what I said, and I know what happened, but I never wanted you to leave. I regretted it ever since.”

You nod slowly, finding you can’t quite look him in the eyes. You glance away, towards the open window. Anything but the pain clear on Spot’s face, the pain that twists in you like a knife. “I missed it too. All of this.” You wait one moment, two. “I missed you.” Spot reaches out and presses his hand gently to the side of your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. “Come back to me. Please. I never should have said any of that and we both know it.” You look at him for a long time, silently weighing everything, then nod. Instantly, Spot’s face brightens. “Well, if we’re making chancy decisions, I might as well do this.” You tilt your head slightly, confused, then your eyes widen when he presses a kiss to your lips. You smile and kiss him back, but the moment is shattered when one of the Brooklyn newsies yells something from out in the hall.

“Hey, Spot, can you hear out these ‘Hattan guys? One of them keeps stealing Jasper’s cigars.” Spot groans, reluctantly pulling away. “I’m going to kill them before they even start talking.” You laugh at his annoyed expression. “You are not.” Spot raises an eyebrow. “And who’s going to stop me?” You smile at him. “Me.” You lean over, kissing him lightly, then dance away and reach for the door despite Spot’s protests, which you ignore gleefully. You have Spot back, what more could anything else matter?

#newsies #spot conlon #spot conlon imagine #spot conlon x reader #spot conlon imagines #spot conlon oneshot #newsies imagine #newsies x reader #newsies imagines #newsies oneshot #newsies live imagine #newsies live x reader #newsies live imagines #newsies live oneshot #brooklyn newsies #brooklyn newsies imagine #brooklyn newsies x reader #brooklyn newsies imagines #brooklyn newsies oneshot

[strqyr]

i'm back again with another branwen post™, this time delving onto their reasons for originally staying instead of going back to the tribe, and how those reasons have influenced their development in the past as well as in the present.

and those reasons are family and mission.

this is something that was already set up in their very first interaction in volume 4; qrow is the one to bring up family, while raven is focused on the mission. and while these are certainly A Thing for them, respectively, it is not The Thing that drives them.

because they're actually flipped, as things often are with the branwens.

early on, qrow's loyalty to ozpin was well known; it was basically blind loyalty at that point. and it makes sense, because all qrow has ever wanted to do is to do good. he heard the stories about the grimm reaper, he looked up to her to the point of fashioning his own weapon after hers. even before attending beacon and joining ozpin's cause, he wanted to become a huntsman, for a chance to do some real good.

and ultimately, ozpin gave him a cause, a mission qrow could dedicate himself to, even if it meant staying away from his family for months at the time.

so he stayed, instead of perhaps taking a paper out of the grimm reaper's book and traveling alone, doing good while ensuring he wouldn't harm those he cares about with his semblance.

he stayed, and it was ozpin who gave him something meaningful to work towards, something to drive him, something to dedicate himself to.

and he did. he did so to the point of even getting ruby and yang involved, his family, despite knowing how dangerous it would get. knowing the risks, knowing the target ruby would have on her back thanks to her silver eyes. all because it was for a good cause.

(but he also did so knowing that this time, he would be there to protect them. that this time, things would turn out differently.)

(he's not feeling that so much right now, but luckily, it's only temporary.)

all of this is why qrow's turning point is finding out that ozpin lied. it's his "the rug is pulled from under him and there's nowhere to hide" moment.

so he falls, but he gets back up, because he still has his family to look out for (and all the other kids, too). because despite the hurt the truth caused, his mission is not over, and he can still do some good while at it.

for raven, family is an important part of her character, whether it's about team strq or the branwen tribe.

and while raven had joined ozpin's cause as well, it's because of this why I believe the reason behind raven staying had more to do with her relationship with tai and their move to patch to perhaps start a family than anything else.

but it's also the importance of family to raven why things ended up poorly; because with the tribe, when you're family, you stand by each other no matter what:

qrow: they were killers and thieves.

raven: they were your family.

so when raven told the rest of her team the truth about salem and how ozpin had lied to them, and they chose to believe ozpin instead of her? well...

raven: sorry, brother. sometimes family disappoints you like that.

that's why raven went back to the tribe. even though she likely knew that they weren't so great – especially when compared to the family she found with her team – at least they never chose someone else over her.

as far as we know, raven never contacted tai or summer after she left, but she kept in touch with qrow whenever it suited her, because not only is qrow her brother, he was also part of the tribe family, too.

(it's also why she kept eyes on yang in bird form, enough that yang could recognize her, because yang never disappointed her like so... until she chose ruby over raven, anyway.)

but just like qrow had his turning point when it came to his mission, raven's turning point regarding her family also happened in volume 5.

qrow disowned her. vernal is dead. there's the whole complicated emotional mess that happened with yang, but ultimately, it too ended with raven failing at that one thing she tried to do: to keep yang away from ozpin's war.

all that was left for her was a portal to tai – a bridge that was possibly already burned long time ago – and she kept flying; perhaps to a place that reminds her of a time of happiness. of a time when she still had her family around her.

and maybe from there, she too can get back up, just like qrow did.

#rwby #raven branwen #qrow branwen #branwen twins #anyway did y'all know it's been 1 288 days since raven appeared in the show and i miss her very much

[fandom-monium]

Bonding

Summary: In which you suddenly transfer into the BAU, and Spencer is too socially awkward. (alternatively, the failed attempts Spencer makes trying to connect with you.) “You’ve been profiling me, Doc?”

Word count: 2.3k+

Tags/warnings: Spencer Reid x reader, another attempt at gender neutral reader so no pronouns, Fluff(??), kind of first meeting (?), Spencer Reid pining is everything (what an adorable loser), Spencer socially awkward is also everything, reader insert, mild social anxiety (??), no big warnings except a couple fucks and damns

A/N: TO MY TODOROKI FANS: YES, I’M STILL ALIVE. SOULMATE AU EP 5 IS STILL UNDERGOING EDITS. COMING SOOON~ THX FOR WAITING!

New beginnings are scary, Spencer Reid understands that more than anything. A fish out of water at school, thriving in all academics; it came naturally to him, but the rest... well being over six years younger than his classmates didn’t make things much easier. It winded him trying to connect with his peers. He gave up eventually, no one bothering to extend a line to him, and when they did, it wasn’t out of good intentions. He learned that new things are terrifying, be ready for the worst.

So when you stride into the bullpen without so much as a notice, no one’s prepared. Not even you, Spencer notices, your hands flexing at your sides. You shove them into your pockets as you politely smile.

“Everyone, this is SSA (First Name) (Last Name), our newest member of the team,” Hotch introduces.

They manage a welcome but introductions are cut short as a new case presents itself with severe urgency. 

Garcia whines, unprepared for your arrival. You later reassure her it’s fine, but Spencer figures you’re relieved by the way your shoulders relax.

Oddly enough, the way you ease into their team dynamic is almost instantaneous. Not like the way a puzzle piece fits because that would imply that the team is a set when in reality it’s changing; not often but it happens. 

No, your addition is similar to a LEGO brick.

You slip into the role of profiler with ease. You hesitate at first, but your voice doesn’t tremble in the slightest as you offer your own opinions and observations pertaining to the case. You provide them support much like the base of a LEGO model. 

Later on, when Spencer divulges this to you, you smack him hard enough he bruises. You equate him to a peach. But you grin, and the ache fades almost instantly.

Spencer would go as far as to say he respects you, despite not knowing anything about you at the moment. Your devotion shines through whatever hesitancy you had earlier, and though your debut to them was hurried, your dedication is not lost to the team, prompting them to give you the welcome you deserve.

As a result, they make an effort the next couple weeks. A “united force of camaraderie”, Garcia calls it.

Hotch and Rossi go to you, whether you’re at your desk or called to them. Usually, it’s for an extra opinion on a case because you’re fresh eyes. From his desk across from yours, as he inconspicuously watches you purse your lips, attempting not to smile at your seniors, Spencer realizes you do think differently than the rest of them. It’s slight but not too obvious. Maybe it’s because you’re new; you’ve only joined a week ago, or maybe it’s because the team has known each other for so long they’ve learned to predict what they’d say. He isn’t sure.

You do your best to answer them before returning to your assigned tasks.

While Morgan normally makes jokes and teases, he switches his methodology with you for reasons Spencer can’t infer. Instead, he manages to include you in whatever he is doing if you’re within the vicinity. You respond in kind before quickly moving on. 

Jokes and teasing come soon.

In an attempt to naturally get to know you, JJ and Prentiss question you, not like interrogating of course but⎼from what Spencer overhears (he just happens to be within earshot, totally not eavesdropping)⎼sometimes when they border on personal, he notes your swift change in body language. Like they hit a switch: open to closed. And when you answer them, you never give more information than asked for, quick to redirect the conversation. He’s certain they notice as well, but they don’t push. 

Your gratitude is evident in the soft quirk of your lips.

To his chagrin, Spencer isn’t as bold as his friends. When you interacted with each other, it was by extension of the team starting it or on the job so mainly professional. He isn’t even sure why he finds it so hard to talk to you because it’s not like you’re intimidating. 

Okay, maybe just a little. 

But he won’t let that hinder him. You deserve your spot on the team, and, just like the rest of his team, Spencer wants to do his part in making you feel welcomed.

Which means he has to talk to you, and not just about work for once.

Unlike the rest of his team, however, Spencer has to build up courage, frustrating him more than he’d like to admit because sometimes he misses his chance. For example, this morning: you stood at the coffee maker, burying your face in a book as you waited for it to finish brewing. He recognized the cover immediately but when he opened his mouth to rant to you, he choked.

Spencer Reid choked. He never chokes, not when it comes to books. But the words died in his throat, not even making it past his lips. Never had the doctor been so baffled with himself. He scoured his memories for signs, anything that would justify his stumble, yet there was nothing that rationalized this occurrence. He didn’t have this problem before. At least... not with other coworkers.

He cleared his throat to try again, but, to his dismay, you filled your mug and left.

On the other hand, Garcia is the most upfront with you, which leaves Spencer simmering because he would give anything to have that kind of confidence. Although, he can tell the tech analyst’s friendly demeanor almost… annoys you? No, that’s not right. You don’t outwardly dismiss Garcia when she catches you, and when he says catch, he means catch, as in he witnessed you on multiple occasions going out of your way to avoid the colorful hacker.

A month has passed since you joined the BAU. As he arrives early that morning, Spencer spots you down the corridor, and normally that wouldn’t pique his interest, but the way your eyes sweep the halls in every direction is too much. He snorts, nearly spitting out his coffee.

Curious, Spencer trails after you; he slows his pace, careful to maintain distance so that he would be at the end of the hallway and you at the other. You eventually come to a halt, making him freeze mid-step. His heart drops to his stomach. Oh god, did you notice him following you? Of course you did. You actually completed the FBI fitness exams.

But you don’t turn to him. Instead, you press your back against the wall, and as you peek over the edge, he wordlessly makes his way over. His curiosity overrides any nerves. He leans to peer over your shoulder at whatever you’re tailing and…

Ah, he gets it now.

At the end of the hallway by the elevators, Garcia stands a vibrant Sphinx among a sea of dark pantsuits and white-collared button downs, tapping her foot as she waits. Spotting the (your favorite color) paper bag in her hand, he thinks it’s safe to assume it’s another attempt to get you to warm up to her. The tech analyst purses her lips, pulling up her watch.

“Come on, come on…” You mutter, your eyes flicking down at your own.

Spencer glances at you, unsure of what you are waiting for. A minute passes.

Then Garcia looks at her watch again, letting out a frustrated huff. The elevator dings open behind her, allowing her to trudge into the crowded metal box, and the second the door closes over her disappointed pout, you sigh in relief.

The word tumbles out of Spencer’s mouth before he even processes what he’s doing. “Morning.”

You shriek, whirling to face Spencer only to smack into his chest. Though he prides himself in the growth spurt he hit as a teenager, Spencer isn’t at all sturdy and buff as Morgan, so, despite your close proximity, you nearly knock him and his precious coffee over. Luckily, your reflexes are faster than his and you clasp the front of his vest, tugging him into you. He fumbles with his free hand, catching your elbow. “I’m so sorry!”

It takes a moment for you both to compose yourselves. Before Spencer can fully register your hand steadying his wrist, you step back. Something inside him deflates.

"Don't scare me like that," You press your hand over your heart as you start towards the elevator. He follows next to you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help but watch the whole,” Spencer gestures at you with his coffee cup.

You groan, smashing the elevator button, “Alright, go ahead.”

“Go ahead with what?” His brow furrows. The elevator doors open, allowing you to enter. He hits the button for the BAU floor, and the doors shut with only you two, standing side by side.

“Tell me I’m a bad person, tell me I’m mean or whatever for dodging someone as nice as Garcia. I know you want to,” You grumble, not looking him in the eye.

“I don’t think that.”

The skeptical look you throw him makes him blurt out the words before they could get stuck in his throat. "I mean, it’s clear you don’t dislike Garcia. You give her your full attention whenever she's talking to you, you gratefully accept her gifts despite your obvious discomfort, which seems to spur her on by the way. Actually, you display similar mannerisms with everyone in the team⎼”

Your brows climb your forehead as Spencer digs himself further into the profile hole he made of you. He spills the numerous observations he mentally filed away, and as he rambles he finally understands how his coworkers, probably every person he’s ever rambled to, feel because oh god, now even he wants himself to shut up! Shit, what is he doing? Why? How to stop?

It’s one of those moments in life where words are out of his mouth before he realizes this is not the time or place⎼it certainly isn’t his place⎼ for this, to be profiling you the way he is doing right now.

Yet here we are.

In his head, he’s screaming but it’s too late, and when he finishes seconds later, there’s a beat of silence. You gawk at him. His eyes widen as his chest heaves; his heart pounds like it’s about to break out and escape.  

Then you glare at him, a playful gleam in your eyes. “You've been profiling me, Doc?” 

Oh god, let this elevator break down and drop him. Wait, no, that would kill you too. Fuck.

Spencer swallows, his face growing hot. He tells himself it’s because he just embarrassingly gave a near complete profile of you, unwarranted, definitely not because of the way you say his title. He could apologize⎼he should⎼but his mind blanks and anything else he has to say dies as his throat closes on him. He tugs at his collar, turning to face his pink reflection in the elevator doors.

To his relief, you chuckle, “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Should've expected nothing less from a genius.” 

“Thank you?”

The doors open and you exit. Before you reach the glass doors, Spencer, biting his lip and unwilling to let the first real conversation he has had with you to end, gathers the remains of his confidence to tap your shoulder. You face him, your expression curious as you halt in front of the BAU headquarters.

Clutching the strap of his bag, he stammers, “Do… Do you want me to talk to Garcia? I mean, I won’t tell her we talked of course. I’ll make a suggestion or something⎼make it seem like it’d be her idea⎼I guess. Might help her tone it down, you know? For you?” He cringes at the last bit, his voice octaves higher than normal. God, what is he, thirteen? How he regrets his boldness. 

If you notice, you don’t mention it. Rather, you give him a onceover, and he tries not to squirm as your sharp eyes scan his face, his body language. You’re sizing up his character, profiling him the way he did with you. The difference is he had a month; you have a few seconds. “You’d do that for me?” You question softly.

Terrified his voice will betray him again, Spencer nods. 

“I⎼” You lick your lips, searching for the right words. Then you smile, a genuine smile, not the shy ones you offered to the team before. It's not awkward or polite. This is way better; your eyes crinkle, there's teeth, and Spencer squints, unsure whether to stare or grab his sunglasses in his satchel because wow, too bright. 

Both. He can totally do both.

I’d do a lot of things for you... as long it’s legal, a tiny voice in the back of his head admits. Spencer can’t bring himself to argue.

“I appreciate that.” Oh right, conversing. He shrugs. “No, really. I know that I’m being stupid and irrational⎼” He opens his mouth to protest. Social anxiety⎼any thing that makes you uncomfortable⎼ is most definitely not stupid. But you shake your head at him. “⎼No, I know I am, and I should get over it as quickly as possible but…” You trail off, glancing to the side.

Spencer follows your apprehensive gaze through the glass doors into the BAU headquarters. It’s early morning, people dawdling around the office, calmly going about their morning routine. It lacks the usual organized bustle as people stand in the corners and chat by the coffee machine, while others take calls or type at their laptops with an air of serenity. A rare, mellow day.

Before you can complete your sentence, Morgan speeds past you, bee-lining for the doors. “Sorry to interrupt, but we got a case!”

Spencer sighs. Spoke too soon.

You both follow behind him without question, leaving your thoughts unfinished, but Spencer catches the impish grin Morgan throws him over his shoulder. He curses under his breath, promises of his friend’s destruction on his lips. 

Just when he was starting to have an actual conversation with you.

Needless to say, eyebrows raise when he drags himself to the round table a couple seconds after you.

Author’s note: You can’t tell me that Reid pre-prison did NOT love action figures, figurines, LEGO models. He is a total nerd, it’s genetic.

So, I just started watching CM since it’s on Netflix. I now love this pipe cleaner with eyes. Can’t tell if I want to caress his lovely jaw or watch him squirm though...

I am basing this one(?)shot on how I get overwhelmed by friendly people. Not to say I don’t like Garcia, bc I love her, she’s one of my fav characters. But at the same time, thanks, I have mild social anxiety. I remember in my COLL 01 class, this guy was making an effort to socialize with our project group mates with invites to hang out together. I could not even. It was like the first day of class, like, chill, my guy.

Also, I‘m sad that I can’t imagine Reid with anyone that isn’t not interesting?? Sad bc I’m such an average person so when I project myself, it feels more unrealistic than it already is and hurts just a bit. I favor the idea of him being with like wild ppl, opposites attract, dumbass and smartass, badass and geek dynamics, stuff like that???

So, the reader’s back story is gonna be hella mysterious and stuff... ;P

And, I’m really into the idea of a Spencer Reid x Hunter!Reader. May try my hand at a CM x SPN crossover in the future. Only problem is that I haven’t finished SPN...

I’m accepting suggestions and ideas!!

Connecting (Bonding Part 2) is in masterlist!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear.  The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive. 

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it.  “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

--

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store. 

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios. 

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas. 

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

--

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of  her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window. 

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

--

(read part 3 here)

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #hange zoe #swearing #insomnia #nightmares #panic attack #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

[obxsummer]

Three Times // JJ Maybank

word count: 3.6k

pairing: jj maybank x reader

warnings: child abuse, descriptions of injuries, underage drinking, cursing, honestly these poor kids wow

summary: the two instances where you flinch at jj’s touch and the one where he finally finds out what’s wrong.

requested by @jjobx​

masterlist

ask me stuff

--

The first time, JJ got suspicious.

You wanted to scream. Your voice was gone, lost somewhere in the chaos as you curled up on the floor of the kitchen. You wished you could leave, go back to California with your mom, but she was gone, and instead, you were stuck here with your shitty father and primadonna of a step-mother. It had started recently, the abuse. The first few months in the Outer Banks had been awesome. You were so excited to finally be on the coast with the remainder of your family but it changed faster than you could blink.

You never knew stating your opinion on what to have for dinner would end with bruises on your ribs and a bloody lip, but your dad never failed at making sure you knew your place. “Fuck,” You mumbled as you got to your feet and grabbed a paper towel to wipe off the blood from your face. Glancing at the clock, you knew you were late for movie night with your friends so you ran upstairs to cover up with some makeup before walking out.

A few days after moving in with your dad, you had met the resident Pogues: John B, JJ, Kiara, and Pope. Their friendship was unmatched, but they were quick to welcome you into their group with open arms. The five of you got along so well it was as if you had known them your entire life. It didn’t take long until you found yourself staring at JJ most of the time, curious as to what it was like to be wrapped up in his arms as more than friends. Luckily, he was open to letting you find out and the two of you had been dating since.

The usual chaotic energy was evident when you made it to John B’s house. You could hear JJ’s laugh as soon as you stepped on the screened-in porch followed by Kiara’s scream. It was evident what had happened, with Kie’s soaked hair and clothes while JJ held empty water bottles.

“You dick!” She screamed as she turned towards him to attack him for revenge. “That was freezing!”

While your boyfriend was busy defending himself, Pope greeted you with a drink. “What’s up?” He asked as he uncapped your spiked lemonade for you.

You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a smile before taking a drink. “The usual, Pope. I can’t wait to move out.”

Your friends weren’t strangers to the fact that your dad and step-monster were mean at times, but none of them knew the extent of everything. You chose clothing wisely and always covered anything up with makeup before getting close to them. Even when you and JJ spent time alone, you were careful about how much you revealed.

“Babe, help me!” JJ whined for your assistance as he continued to fight off Kie’s anger. You shook your head at his antics and continued to sit next to Pope just as John B entered the area.

“Absolute dumbass,” John B mumbled as he sat on your other side. He twisted his bandana around his neck before relaxing against the couch cushions. “You know not to fuck around with Kie, bro!”

Once Kiara managed to get JJ back enough to her standards, she let him go. With a satisfied smirk, she stepped back to admire her work. While JJ had managed to get her with water, she found it fitting to retaliate with the rest of her beer which covered his t-shirt and hair.

“Ah fuck,” JJ cursed as he pulled his shirt off his body and threw it on the ground. “Now I gotta shower, Kie.”

She didn’t even apologize and instead went inside to get another drink. JJ groaned and tried to dry his hair off as much as possible with his shirt before facing the three of you with a frown. You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped at the sight of him looking like a wet puppy.

“Come on.” You stood up and offered him your hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Whistling followed your words as Pope and John B winked at the two of you, leaving JJ to flip them off as he let you pull him inside. You walked into the back room to grab an extra shirt from the collection of clothing that was forming slowly. Honestly, each of you had a fair share of your stuff around John B’s house. You weren’t sure why, probably because you all spent so much time here anyway, but it was turning out to be convenient.

“Here.” You handed him a new shirt alongside a towel for him to shower. “Now go clean off so we can actually get drunk and enjoy the night.”

“You’re so good to me.” JJ took the items before setting them aside and turning back to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closure. You shook your head at him, leaning forward to kiss him lightly before moving back. JJ’s hands squeezed your hips but you jerked back at the sharp pain in your side from where your step-mother’s heel had connected with your body.

JJ let go instantly, his eyes filling with concern at your reaction. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“JJ, you’re fine, bub. Go shower.” You quickly made a move to get around him and head back outside, but his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

“Talk to me,” He whispered as his thumb rubbed your cheek gently. “What happened?”

You shook your head and gave him a smile to try and reassure him. “I fell down the stairs earlier because I was moving too fast to get here. It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

Although he didn’t seem convinced, JJ let you walk away. He watched you disappear onto the porch again before he moved into the bathroom to shower. He wasn’t an idiot. As someone who fell at the hands of his father, he knew enough about the pain that followed and how often it had him flinching in someone’s grip. Now, he was worried, but if you weren’t going to tell him, he would have to figure it out himself.

--

The second time, JJ got frustrated.

You were laying out on the HMS Pogue next to Kiara, both of you tuning out the boys as you tried to tan. It was John B’s birthday, and despite your wishes to throw a small party, he really just wanted to spend the day with the four of you doing whatever he wanted to do. For him, that meant getting drunk on the boat by three and crashing on the couch to watch movies all night.

You had managed to avoid setting your dad off the entire week and you were hoping he would be in a good mood for you to invite your friends over for some pizza and movies. You never really asked much of him, or your step-mom Kimberly for that matter, but he somehow found a way to make it seem like you did.

Once you guys made your way back to shore, you pulled out your phone to call your dad while everyone unloaded the boat. Sending JJ a look, you stepped aside to be away from the noise for a few minutes.

“Hello?”

You took a deep breath. “Hey, Dad! Um, are you busy?”

You could hear him sigh. “Not at the moment, but I don’t have much free time. What do you want?”

“I was just wondering if I could have a few friends over to hang out, maybe spend the night? I was going to order pizza, and pay for it of course, but I just wanted to see if-”

“Goddamn it! I thought Rick handed this in. Y/N, look, I have to go. You know the rules, nobody at the house. Your ass better get home now or you’re grounded, do you hear me? And Kim said you didn’t even do your chores so you’re already on thin ice.”

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Stupid bitch. Leaves her worthless daughter to come to me and become my problem. How the hell is that fair-”

You hung up, not wanting to hear another word he was saying into the phone. You turned around to see John B and JJ waiting for you to finish up. You quickly wiped the evidence of tears off your face before walking towards them.

“Everything okay?” John B asked as he recognized your upset expression.

You forced yourself to smile as you shook your head, shoving your phone into your pocket. “My dad needs me home. Something about people visiting. I’m so sorry, JB. I tried to reason with him but he’s just-”

“You’re good, Y/N.” John B stood up to give you a hug, rubbing your back as he did so. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

“You were supposed to spend the day with us though!” JJ interrupted as he stood up. He was clearly upset about your departure and for some reason, he wanted to make sure you knew. “This is bullshit, Y/N! You’re seriously leaving early on his birthday.”

You shook your head, not needing JJ’s criticism at the moment either. Thankfully, John B came to your rescue. “Bro, leave it alone. There will be a million and one opportunities for us to watch movies together. It’s no big deal”

“It’s your birthday, man,” JJ continued to argue. “We promised we’d spend the day with you.”

You stepped back slowly, inching towards your car that was parked next to Kiara’s. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled as you watched your boyfriend try to reason. “I wish I could.” Without another word, you ran to the driver’s seat and climbed in. As the car came to life, you spared a glance out the window to see JJ glaring at you before driving away towards the place you barely considered home.

Kimberly had taken care of you herself once you arrived. It started with screaming about how you didn’t tell her you were leaving this morning, which you definitely did, she just didn’t listen. Then, it was pulling at your hair, followed by scratching the hell out of your arms and even your face with her razor sharp nails. It ended with her shoving you on the floor of the kitchen, telling you to clean the house until it was spotless or you’d regret it later.

You regretted not running away is what you told yourself as you showered later that night. Your knees were bruises from all of the cleaning and you swore Kimberly drew blood in multiple places with her devilish hands. It all ended with a lovely punch to the ribs from your dad once he found out that you didn’t clear your day’s events with them. Needless to say, you should’ve stayed at John B’s and never come home.

Crawling into bed, you let out a drained sigh at the feeling of your soft sheets and pillows. Nothing had ever felt more relaxing. You stayed there for a moment, just embracing the sound of silence that you had never found to be so peaceful. A second later, the silence was gone as someone knocked on the balcony doors.

With a quiet whimper, you pulled yourself out of bed to open your curtains to reveal JJ standing outside. You put a finger to your lips before opening the door slightly to let him in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you closed the door and turned to face him. Luckily, there was limited light meaning JJ wouldn’t see the true extent of what was going on behind your hair-covered face and long sleeves.

He shook his head as he kicked his shoes off and tossed his hat aside before flopping on your bed. “I wanted to see you. We didn’t get to spend much time together today.”

You frowned and moved to sit next to him. “I know. I’m sorry, Dad was just being really uptight about everything and-”

“Baby, it’s okay,” He said as he rolled on his side to face you. “Look, let’s not talk about it. I just wanna spend some time with you.”

You shuffled down to lay in his open arms, enjoying the smell of his cologne mixed with the weed he no doubt shared with Kiara at John B’s. You were grateful that JJ could sometimes see through the lines, even though he could be difficult at other moments.

“Missed you,” He hummed as he kissed your forehead, his lips moving down to press against your neck as he shifted to hover over you. Your hand lifted his chin up to meet your own as you locked your lips with his, moaning at the taste of his watermelon chapstick. You loved the little things about JJ, the things he probably wouldn’t even notice himself. Like the freckles on his face, or the dip of his collarbones in a white t-shirt.

JJ’s hands moved to your waist as his thumb rubbed a circle against your hip bone. The second his fingers wandered under your shirt however, it was game over. You gasped and pulled away, instantly sitting up as you shied from his touch.

“Y/N-”

“Sorry!” You interrupted as you put your head in your hands. “I just… I’m not in the mood, JJ.”

Completely flustered, JJ got off your bed to stand. “Not in the mood?” He repeated, “Y/N, what the hell is going on?”

“Keep your voice down,” You whispered as you feared your parents would hear.

“No!” JJ ignored your pleas. “You’ve been acting so weird lately, and now I think I know why. First, it was the other week when Kie dumped beer on me and you pulled away, then today leaving before movies, and now you’re not in the mood?” He mocked you as he waved his arms around angrily. “You’re cheating on me.”

“What?” You gasped as you got to your feet. “JJ, no. I swear that’s not what’s happening, I just-”

He cut you off, holding up his hand in front of you. “I don’t want to hear it. Until you tell me the truth, this, us. We’re done.”

You froze in your spot as he collected his stuff before walking out onto the balcony, slamming the door loudly behind him. You winced at the noise, praying it didn’t echo through the house. Your luck had run out, however, and the sound of stomping feet soon followed before your door was thrown open.

“What the hell was that?” Your dad shouted as he observed the room, noticing you were standing next to your bed silently. “Answer me!”

You shook your head as you pointed to the balcony. “I left the door open and the wind blew it shut!”

Your dad seemed to consider your answer for a moment before his eyes dropped to the floor. He took a few steps forward and bent down before standing up with a white necklace in his hand. You bit your tongue, instantly realizing it as the one JJ always wore.

“What’s this?” He asked as he turned to face you.

“It’s mine,” You answered quickly, “I made it.”

Your dad seemed to grow angry. “This isn’t your necklace. Was there somebody in here?’

“Dad, no, I didn’t-” You don’t even know why you bothered, he wouldn’t believe you anyway and instead of arguing, you just let him win.

If JJ had stayed on the balcony thirty seconds longer, he would’ve heard you cry. He would’ve heard the scream you let out from the pain your father inflicted on you, but he was gone. And instead, you were left to cry on your floor as you clutched the shark tooth necklace in your hand, wondering if you’d ever see him again.

--

The third time, JJ got answers.

You continued your life on but this time, it was without the Pogues. You hadn’t spoken or seen JJ, not that you really could considering you were grounded for lying. On top of that, you doubted he wanted to see you. He thought you were cheating on him, anyway. Why would he want to see you?

You left the rest of the group alone too, figuring they’d take JJ’s side over yours anyday. They had known him for so long, much longer than you, so you didn’t want to make them feel like they had to choose. You didn’t want to ruin their friendship because you failed at providing JJ the reassurance he needed.

The surprise came in the form of a text message. John B had asked you if you wanted to come get the stuff you left at his house, not knowing if you’d come back again. Although it was a sting to your already bruised heart, you knew this would be the final goodbye. Pulling yourself together, you waited until your dad and Kimberly were at work before sneaking out.

You twisted the shark tooth between your fingers as you drove silently, letting your mind wander until you pulled up to John B’s house. Thankfully, Kiara’s car was nowhere in sight, same with JJ’s bike, and you were hopefully it was only John B in the house.

“Hey,” You mumbled as you walked onto the porch. John B was laid out across the couch with an arm over his eyes as he waited for you to show up. When he looked at you, he swore it was a different person. Ever since you lost contact with JJ, you had taken it out on yourself. You looked so small, so weak compared to the last time he had seen you. He could only hope this plan would work.

“Your stuff’s inside,” He said after a moment while standing up. He watched you for a moment as if you would shatter into a thousand pieces in front of his eyes. “Come on.”

You followed him through the door to stand by the couch as he went in the back room to grab your stuff. A moment later, he reemerged with the pile in his hand. He stopped in front of you as you reached out to take the stuff from him. “Y/N, I’m really sorry for this.”

“Sorry for what? Ow!” You were tackled onto the couch as someone jumped onto you, pinning your arms above your head. Opening your eyes, you saw JJ hovering over you, his legs keeping yours down as he held you in place. “JJ, what the fuck?”

“What are you hiding?” He mumbled as he hand left your wrist to pull your shirt over your head. You screamed at the sudden motion, already feeling your body ache with the sharp movements as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

“JJ, stop! You’re hurting her!” Kiara interjected as she attempted to pull him away. It was too late. JJ let go anyway, but he already found his answer. Your entire stomach was covered in bruises, not to mention the scrapes on your arms and bruised knees. He was in shock.

You pulled away from him, sitting up as you curled into a ball. You had wanted to tell JJ back when everything first started, but you feared you would get taken from your friends. That was the worst thing in your mind. You couldn’t lose JJ, or even Kiara, Pope, and John B to get away from your dad. They were the only people who you held close, who you could relate to and be honest with.

“Y/N…. what the hell?” JJ sat back on the couch in shock. Kiara placed a hand on his shoulder to give any form of comfort. Honestly, none of them expected this to be going on behind the scenes.

John B stepped forward and crouched down next to you, being careful as he placed his hand on your arm. “Y/N, can you tell us what happened?”

You shook your head as you tried to catch your breath. “My.. my dad and Kimberly aren’t the easiest people to be around. At first, it was fine. We were good and everything was good, but then they started getting mean and-and violent and I didn’t know what to do, okay! I just try to avoid them and please them and-”

John B pulled you into his chest, holding you in an attempt to calm you down. JJ was still trying to wrap his head around everything going on. He was no stranger to violent parents, but you had hid it so well he was shocked that he never knew. Sure, he had his suspicions, and he was worried, but he never would’ve thought it was this bad.

“Fuck. Y/N/N,” JJ mumbled as he reached forward to grab you from his friend and hold you in his arms. He never wanted this life for you. You didn’t deserve the pain of losing a parent just for another to not want you around. That wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair.

“I”m sorry,” You whispered as you held onto his t-shirt tightly. “I didn’t mean to make you mad or-or lie. I don’t want anyone to find out and then I’ll lose you guys and it’s… I can’t do that, J.”

“You’re not gonna lose us, baby,” He responded as he kissed your forehead, his eyes narrowing on the necklace of his that you were wearing. He knew he had a million apologies to give, especially with your argument the other night, but for now, he just wanted to hold you and keep you safe. “I’m not gonna let that happen.”

There were a lot of things that you didn’t know, but as your friends surrounded you with their hugs and just stayed there with you silently, you started to learn. You learned that people don’t always judge on your decisions, that they’ll support you no matter what you’re going through or where you come from. But the most important thing was that you had found your family in the Pogues. That you knew for certain.

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank writing #jj outer banks #jj outer banks x reader #jj outer banks one shot #jj outer banks writing #john b routledge #john b #john b writing #john b rutledge imagine #john b rutledge writing #john b outer banks #kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #kiara #kiara outer banks wriiting #kiara writing #kiara one shot #pope heyward #pope outer banks #pope #pope hayward one shot #pope hayward outer banks #pope hayward writing #outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks x reader

[homenecromancer]

i have this headcanon that Jeb and Roland ter Borcht have history of some sort together, but i rarely write about the actual genesis of their whole deal. so here is some gay shit i wrote while at work, and then edited/transcribed while also at work. it is unfinished fyi

summary: the year is 199X, and the employees of the School decide to throw a Christmas party. things go either poorly or very well indeed, depending on your point of view

also since this is unfinished i will clarify upfront rather than in the tags: the kiss was absolutely planned and premeditated, Valencia was trying to set Jeb up and ter Borcht was like “sounds great lol”, Jeb was the only person who didn’t know wtf

///

Until the Christmas party, you didn’t get along. After that, you did, and that was worse.

Roland ter Borcht had been a late addition to your team — he had come from Itex after the buyout, and that meant he simply hadn’t been there during the startup phase of things. You knew him — the professional circles you moved in, even before he joined your company, were small enough that you’d have had to put effort into ignoring him — but you didn’t consider him a friend. Just a face you saw in the halls.

But at the end of the first full year after the buyout, you were all in a festive mood. Things were going well, better than you’d dared to hope for, and of course the increased funding you got from Itex helped smooth things over. And so, you decided to throw a Christmas party.

Valencia did most of the decorating, which should have made you suspicious. But you were busy figuring out how to throw a party whose centerpiece wasn’t a bathtub full of jungle juice, and you were just grateful someone else was hanging the decorations. She’d even brought her camera to take pictures of it all.

You were pouring the last of the punch into the bowl when you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!” you called, stirring cautiously with the ladle. One of Valencia’s friends had contributed the recipe. There were little chunks of fruit in it.

You didn’t have so many coworkers that you couldn’t recognize him just by voice. It wasn’t necessarily a pleasant voice, but the accent was distinctive. And you still knew few enough Europeans that you found it faintly exotic.

“Am I too early?” he said. He’d signed up to bring potato chips, and he had — his arms were full of bags. Well, at least he wasn’t a flake.

“No, come in,” said Valencia, who was busy setting out stacks of napkins and paper plates.

You stirred the punch a little more, then took three cups from the stack next to the bowl, and began ladling out the punch. “We’ll start a little early,” you said.

You didn’t really register that ter Borcht had come to the table next to you and set the chips down until you heard Valencia laugh.

“What?” you said.

You looked at her, and wondered why her camera had suddenly moved from hanging by its strap to sitting poised ready in her hand. Then she pointed up, above your head, and you understood.

Stapled to the foam ceiling tile, positioned strategically above the punch bowl — was a strand of mistletoe.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you said.

“That’s hardly fair,” ter Borcht said, next to you. There was a nervous edge to his voice.

Valencia only laughed again and, worse yet, raised her camera. “Gotcha,” she said.

“You’re not going to blackmail me, are you?” you asked. You knew she wouldn’t settle for a quick greeting kiss on the cheek, either. No, she would want you to pose.

It all happened very fast after that. A hand tapped you on the shoulder, and you automatically turned to face its owner.

Ter Borcht said, “Take the picture.”

Then he grabbed the front of your shirt and, unflinching, pulled you towards him — and kissed you.

You didn’t have an extensive record when it came to kissing, and were therefore rather lost when it came to what to do next. Luckily for you, he kept things brief — he brought his lips to yours, kept them there a moment, and released you. He smelled like aftershave.

You opened your eyes and said, “I hope you got the picture, because there’s not going to be a repeat performance.” There was a hot flush on your cheeks, as though you’d been outside in the cold.

Valencia laughed and patted her camera. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I got it.”

///

The rest of the party went well, though you couldn’t decide if you felt betrayed, embarrassed, or some other, third thing. Valencia was in high spirits, and ter Borcht surprised you by staying the whole time — so whatever you were feeling, neither of them shared it. You settled for just not thinking about it until, very suddenly, you found that the party was over. And ter Borcht needed a ride home.

#this is just me throwin various tropes at the wall and seeing what sticks lol #no plot twists or surprises here. they kiss. they go back to someone’s apartment. things progress #maximum ride #long post #marlowe writes maximum ride

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious

Chapter One

Multi-chapter if enough interest

Rating: E!

Summary: Well, your new neighbor certainly knows how to entertain his guests

It’s not serious

At least, not enough that you’d complain. It’s just sex. And it’s not unbearably loud. Honestly, you’re happy someone is having a good time. Unlike his bedroom (and, from the sound of it, his couch, his kitchen island, his front door), yours has been woefully quiet since you moved in. So, even though it’s annoying, those nights you can’t sleep and you’re staring up at the ceiling as the muffled moans and groans echo through the wall, you have to think:

Good for her.

Maybe it’s not a conventional way to learn your neighbor’s name, but after a week sharing a wall you’re pretty confident it’s Javi. Javier, if the woman he’s entertaining is feeling particularly formal. You’ve never seen him – heard him plenty, sure – but what little glimpses you almost catch are always just as he’s disappearing into his apartment or out the door. You’re not sure what you’d say, anyway – hey, I’m your neighbor, you have quite the voluminous orgasm – so you don’t make an effort to introduce yourself. Besides, if your shared wall is anything to go by, he seems quite busy.

Still, that doesn’t stop you from imagining it. You haven’t had time to meet many men since you moved down to begin your teaching job, and you haven’t made enough friends to go out with and find some. So, your first few months are just you, your hand, and what inspiration leaks through the walls you are increasingly becoming convinced are made of rice paper. You’re not proud of it, but it’s a healthier stress reliever than the cigarettes in your purse or the tequila you keep in your kitchen. Besides, if he was worried about someone listening, he could move his fucking bed. Or at least put a sock or something between the wall and the headboard.

One night though, you’re reckless. It’s been a particularly rough day at the school – how do you tell a bunch of kids some of their classmates died in a bombing? – and you’ve drunk your dinner and smoked dessert. Now you’re on your bed, hand down the front of your trousers, fingering yourself like a virgin trying to break their hymen so prom night won’t be a disaster. Behind you, Javier – well, Javi! tonight – is absolutely wrecking some lucky woman. Luckily, she doesn’t have that breathy baby voice the girl Saturday had, and every sound that came from the two of them was enough for you to lose yourself in the fantasy. It’s probably – well, that and the alcohol, the insane amount of stress and just a general lack of shits to give – why you let out such a loud moan when you finally cum on your fingers, unaware that your vocal contribution was not, as you assumed it would be, covered by the sounds coming from the next room, and instead cut through the rare silence that interspersed your neighbor’s rounds. It's only when you’ve come down from your high that you snap back up with the shattering realization that they definitely heard you.

The shame is multiplied in the morning, when your head is aching you sleep past your alarm. You try to shove it down, along with what little stomach contents you have left, as you pull your work clothes on and rush towards the door, a black heel in your hand as you turn the doorknob and rush outside. You lock the door before bracing against it to put your shoe on, your messy bun flopping forward when you see a pair of blue jeans and shoes standing in front of his own door.

Of course it’s today.

With your shoe secure, you stand back up and make eye contact with the subject of your masturbation sessions for the past three months. You two stand there for a moment, taking the other in. Annoyingly, he is good-looking. You’re somewhat lost in his eyes a bit before you catch yourself, and remember you’ve got fifteen minutes before a class full of eight-year-olds are left in a room with no supervision, scissors, and a very old and anxious pet hamster.

“Good morning, Javier,” you say before you can stop yourself. His eyebrows raise in surprise as you make a b-line for the doors, throwing them open and walking your burning face outside.

Maybe, deep down, you wanted this to happen. You never smoke outside your building, especially not once you got that window seat set up. Still, here you are at 5:30 pm standing outside your apartment complex smoking your second cigarette. You’re not sure if he’s home already, or held up doing whatever he does, but you still feel the desire to try. So you take another long drag and lean your head back, exhaling the puff of smoke into the sky above.

You jump when the door behind you swings open and there he is, his own cigarette caught between his lips. He doesn’t notice you at first, too concentrated on lighting the end. After a few attempts, he sighs and shoves the lighter back into his pocket.

“Need a light?” You ask.

He looks up and regards you for the second time that day. You extend your hand out, offering the cheap red lighter you bought from a corner shop your first night here. He hesitates a moment before reaching out and taking it from you.

You take a drag, considering his profile as he sparks up. You like his nose in particular and the way his dark eyes focus on the simple task at hand. You’re so entranced you visibly snap back when his eyes meet yours, handing back the lighter.

“Thanks,” he says around the cigarette. You wave your wrist before dropping the thing back in your purse. The two of you stand in the silence for a second, watching the empty street before you.

“So, you’re the new neighbor?”

You shrug. “Newish.”

“New to me,” he says. He turns towards you and extends a hand. “What’s your name?”

You mirror him and lean against the handrail by the stairs. “Eloise.”

He chuckles. “Like the kids’ books?”

“Yeah, my mom was the author.” You say with a straight face. His eyebrows shoot up.

“Really?” he asks.

“No. I’m fucking with you,” you bring the cigarette back up to your lips. His stupid, handsome face breaks out into a smile before he turns back to the front.

“Got me.” He brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales again before turning to look at you.

“Thanks for the light, Eloise.”

“Anytime.”

He gives you a nod before he starts down the stairs. You watch him, letting the cigarette in your hand burn and die as your eyes follow him down the block until he disappears around a turn.

You’re not sure if it's unconscious, but you run into him in the mornings a lot more now. Sometimes he’s got his nightly companions with him, but most mornings it’s the two of you rushing out of your respective apartments. It starts with the usual greetings followed by an awkward, silent, shared walk through the doors and down the stairs before unceremoniously parting at their end. Sometimes he holds the door open for you, and you give him a hurried smile and nod as you rush through, your heels click-clacking against the tile before stepping down onto the concrete stairs. You can feel his eyes on your back when you walk down before him those days. It makes your face hot.

Perhaps a week into this routine you notice he’s begun smoking outside more when you return from work. He nods at you, and most evenings you find yourself joining him. As if payback for your early generosity, he always holds out his lighter to spark your cigarette. At first, it's just silent smoking sessions, the two of you standing in the quiet until someone finishes and throws their butt to the ground first. Then the little questions start. That second talk you discover you’re both from Texas – him from Laredo, you from El Paso. He asks if you know some shithead kids he went to school with, and you actually recognize one of the names. When he smiles at that, you find yourself wishing you knew them all.

One Friday when you return, you find him in his usual spot, leaning against the wall in those too tight blue jeans and a stupid pastel button-up– you’ve never seen a man with so many button-ups. You instinctively reach for your pack when he speaks up.

“You want to get a drink, neighbor?”

It’s nothing serious.

It’s just a drink. Or three.

You’re sat across from him, a slowly filling ashtray between the two of you. The conversation has stayed mostly light – how was your day, how was work (he works at the embassy, you’re not sure doing what), want another? It’s perfectly plain, and it almost feels like a drink you’d get with your brother when he finally asks:

“How’d you know my name?”

You almost choke on the sip you were taking. Coughing, you put the glass on the table and ask him to repeat himself, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

“My name,” he says, and the way his voice emphasizes the word sends a tingle down your spine. “The morning we met.”

You wonder if you’re drunk enough to answer this truthfully. You take a drag of your cigarette.

“You’re smiling,” he says, breaking out into a grin. Underneath the table, you feel his knee hit yours and it’s like a shock across your skin.

“It’s, uh,” you exhale, taking the excuse to look anywhere else but at him. Emboldened by the drink, or maybe it’s just him, he nudges your hand.

“Go on, then.”

“Your, ah, guests.” You laugh.

“My-” he stops, realizing what you’re saying. The two of you hold eye contact for a second before descending into a fit of giggles.

“I, uh,” his hand goes to the back of his neck. “Ha…wow.”

“Hey, you should be proud,” you say. “It sounds like they’re having a great time.” You reach out for his lighter to re-light your cigarette. “Should move that fucking headboard, though. Like a drum major, some nights.”

He watches you as you inhale, running his thumb across his annoyingly puffy, never quite closed lips. You don’t realize you’re staring at them until his knee hits yours once again, jolting you back to the present.

“Maybe my guests could learn some manners from yours,” he says. You shake your head, too drunk to let the compliment lie.

“What guests,” you laugh.

“You know. Your gentleman callers.” He jokes. You roll your eyes and take another sip of your drink.

“Haven’t had a gentleman caller since I moved down here,” you admit. His eyebrows raise and you shoot him a look.

“Oh shut up,”

“I’m just surprised is all,” he says. “You…look like you. I thought you’d be knocking them back with a bat.”

“Flirt,” you chide. You shake your head. “Sadly, no. Only room for one Cassanova on the bottom floor,” you wink at him.

“There was-“ he begins, then closes his mouth. He reaches for his drink.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he smiles. You kick him under the table.

“What,”

“It’s not polite,” he teases you.

“Go on, I’m drunk enough.”

“I heard something…once. First time I realized someone actually lived there.” He laughs, bringing the glass to his lips. “Sounded like fun. Lucky guy.”

You laugh.

“…girl?” he offers, a sly smile playing across his lips.

“You could say that,” you laugh. He holds your gaze for a moment and you burst into giggles under his scrutiny.  “Look, sometimes a girl is lonely and…” you giggle again. You’re definitely drunk. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“No, go on, I’m intrigued,” he says, placing his drink back down and leaning forward. You flick your eyes back up to him.

“I mean…you’d get a bit jealous, wouldn’t you? Some woman next door is having the time of her life-”

“ ‘Time of her life'? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes and swirl your empty drink. “and you’re just…look, it’s been a long….”

Oh god. You do the math and cringe at the duration since the last time you got laid. You shake your head.

“A girl’s got needs. You seem to know all about that.” You laugh.

“Do I?” he asks, his voice noticeably deeper. You look up at him and see how dark his eyes are. His tongue darts out and wets his lips as those same eyes dip down from your face to your chest, your hands, back up to your lips.

“I…” you smile.

…Fuck.

It’s not serious.

It’s not.

It’s just two neighbors, very neighborly, fucking each other absolutely senseless.

You knew this is where it was going when you agreed to drinks. If you hadn’t, you knew the minute he asked you that question.

Do I?

Fuck off.

So when he offered to buy another round, you agreed. When he came back and sat next to you on the bench, you let him. By the end of the fourth drink, his hand was on your thigh, having pushed up your cute pencil skirt, and his mouth was on your ear, whispering the kinds of things he must have used on countless women before you. It worked, though, because after that last drink you were taking the hand he offered and following him out of the bar, down the street, and back into his apartment.

Once he got you inside, he was surprised to see you taking it all in. He came up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist as his mouth nipped at your neck.

“See something interesting?” he asked, annoyed your focus wasn’t solely on him.

“Feels like I’ve been let backstage,” you laugh, turning around and looping your arms around his neck.

“Yeah?” he leans forward and captures your mouth for the first time in a loud, puckering peck. You smile when he pulls away.

“Yeah, you won’t believe what I had to do to the security guard to get back here,” you shake your head.

“I think I can imagine,” he pulls you back into a kiss. His hands trail down your sides, traveling further down until he’s grasping at your ass through your skirt. You let out a sigh and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You let out a small groan at the intrusion, reaching up and threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. You bite his top lip as his hands glide up to fiddle with the zipper at the back of your skirt. Breaking the kiss, you begin to play with the button at the nape of his neck.

“You have…”

“What?” he breathes. The zipper is down and his hand slips between the fabric, grabbing your bare ass. God, what a good day to wear a thong.

You laugh. “So many button-ups,” you spring the first button free and dip your face down to kiss his neck in a show of appreciation. He lets out a soft moan as you continue to work the buttons free, your hands taking a moment to explore the expanse of skin before moving on to the next. You feel him shimmy your skirt down and you aid him by working your hips until the fabric falls to the floor. As if he’s out of patience, he pulls the shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere, his attention back on your lips as he cups your face and brings you in for another deep, searing kiss. And god, what a mouth. It’s plump and plush and so soft.

It takes a lot to break away from them.

“Bed, I think,” you huff. He nods, his hand dropping down to grab your hand and pull you along the empty hallways towards the bedroom – a strange mirror to your own apartment. Once he’s got the door open he pulls you inside until you tumble into him, pressed against his front with a giggle.

“Take this off,” he says, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You let him pull it over your head and drop it to the floor. In a move that’s too practiced, he unclasps your bra and lets it fall with the shirt before cupping your breasts in his big, warm hands. Heat pools between your thighs – god, it really has been long – and you find yourself pushing him back towards the bed. He falls back with a thump, looking up at you expectantly.

You reach up, pulling your hair out of its hold and letting it fall to your shoulders. Holding his gaze, you hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and pull them down until you can pull one leg out. Tossing them somewhere in the dark, you lower yourself onto him, crawling up his body until you sit astride his hips and begin to unbuckle his belt and fiddle with the zipper. When he springs free, you smile.

“Of course you don’t wear underwear,” you say. He smiles as he sits up, reaching to pull your mouth down to his.

“Just gets in the way,” he says before his lips press against yours again. You reach down and take him in your hand, slowly jerking up and down as he lets out little breathy sighs in your mouth. You increase the pace, enjoying hearing his noises for once before he pulls away from you and sits upon his knees on the bed.

“What-”

“Lay back,” he instructs, pulling the jeans down before falling onto his back and kicking them off. You lower yourself down, watching as he rolls off the bed and stalks towards its end. One hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you down, causing you to squeak in surprise. His hands trace up the insides of your legs, and it’s a beat before you realize what he’s about to do. His lips follow his finger’s trail, leaving open mouth kisses until he’s there and his hot breath on you is enough to make you cum right then and there. You screw your eyes shut as you feel a finger enter you, and despite yourself you let out a small moan. Proud of himself, he pulls back and thrusts back into you before bringing his lips down to wrap around your clit. You buck up against him, which only encourages him to add another finger and swirl his tongue around you.

“Fuck-” you breathe, reaching down to fist the sheet beside you. He pumps into you again and you try your best to keep the moan threatening to escape caught in your throat. He sucks at you, lazily pumping in until you’re too slick and squirming against him, urging him to go faster because you’re so so so close. Devilishly, he licks your length before circling your bundle of nerves with his thumbs, looking up at you as your back arches and your foot kicks out.  

“Keep- keep-”

Then.

Then.

The fucking bastard pulls his hand back.

Absolutely outraged you shoot up to see him standing, sucking his fingers.

“Why did you stop?” You breathe. He smiles as he pulls his hand from his mouth.

“Was wondering why you’re being so quiet,” he laughs. “Thought I wasn’t living up to the hype.”

“You were,” you insist. He smiles as he walks around to his nightstand and pulls the drawer open. You hear the foil packet tear before you can see the glint in the light.

“I think I’ll have to do better,” he says once he’s settled back on the bed. He pulls you astride of him, and you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance. You let out a shaky breath as his hands grip at your hips.

“Don’t be afraid to make noise,” he says, kissing along your jaw. “My neighbor likes to listen.”

“Oh fuck y-” the words turn into a moan as he pushes up into you, stretching you out across him. You let out a fluttering gasp as you take all of him in, so warm and big and good. When he bucks up into you again, you let out a girly, breathy gasp, then again when he rocks your hips back and forth. Before you know it you’re pressing him down into the mattress, righting yourself against the banging headboard as you bounce on top of him, impaling yourself on him and the aching stretch of him inside you. You let out another moan as he brings a hand up and slaps your ass, and you suddenly realize how easy it must have been for these women to lose themselves shamelessly in the noise and feeling.

“Like that,” he says, his own voice deep and breathy. “Just like that, baby.”

You hum as you roll your hips against his, your clit pressed against the wiry hairs that cover his public bone. Without warning, though, you find yourself being knocked onto your side and hauled up on your hands and knees. Before you can say anything, he rocks back into you, causing you to let out another loud gasp as he begins to fuck you from behind. You bite your lip as he plunges in and out of you, the pace is more quick and unforgiving than it had been. The feeling inside you builds and you squeeze your eyes shut, reaching up in between your legs to touch yourself.

“Fuck…fuck,” you head from behind you. You speed your fingers up and he continues to fuck you, your moans coming fast and ragged now. What was happening? You were never particularly loud before, but now-

“I’m going-“ you warn him. He slams back into you as if encouraging you, and you’re just so full of him and that sweet slide of him inside you and your fingers working in small circles. You’re surprised, then, when you feel his hand fall on your shoulder and pull you up onto your knees, his hands groping at your breasts as he bites where your neck meets your shoulder. You let out a groan as he pinches a nipple and fucks up and into you.

“I’m-”

“Cum,” he instructs, and it’s enough. You clench around him, harder than you have in months. You let out a cry as you ride out the spasms, the firmness of him inside you feeling so impossibly good and foreign. He follows not long after, and you feel him pulse inside you as he cums, a little pathetic cry escaping his lips.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, panting and sweaty. After a moment, you feel his hands on your hips relax, and slowly, almost tenderly, he pulls out of you Exhausted, as if he was the only thing keeping you up, you fall forward onto your stomach, letting out a hefty exhale.

Behind you, you hear him shuffle around, take off the condom, and go dispose of it in the kitchen. A minute later you feel his weight on the bed once more next to you, and you turn to look up at him. He’s got two cigarettes in his mouth and lights one after the other. Satisfied they won’t go out, he plucks one from his lips and holds one out to you.

“What a gentleman,” you say, bringing it to your lips. He chuckles and relaxes down next to you.

“What was it you said? I know all about a girl’s needs?”  he sends you an impish look. You roll your eyes.

“One fuck after nine months of celibacy doesn’t make you a god,” you laugh, taking a drag. He shakes his head.

“Give me thirty minutes.”

It’s nothing serious. It’s nothing serious. It’s nothing serious.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña x oc #narcos #narcos tv

[donaidk]

Teddy bear - George Russell

A short but fluffy little thing. I couldn’t really think about anything else after seeing this photo 🥺

Special thanks - @formulola​ for sharing that photo and giving me all the feels, idea ❤️

Using the pass that Sara, one of the people behind the team’s christmas project, gave me a few days ago I entered the paddocks and immediately went to the Williams’ motorhome so i could meet up with her. After last season this one was a lot calmer, making it possible for me to travel with George to most of his races. I didn’t meet him yet after flying back home for the past two weeks and as I was planning a surprise for him it wasn’t a possibility to get my usual pass for the circuit from him. Luckily his media team was in on the secret and could get one for today that I could use before George would give me the other one tonight.

„ Hello! ” I quickly greeted everyone when I stepped into their office and Sara stood up as soon as she saw me. „ Hope  I’m not too early. ” I let out a sigh as we exited the room and I followed him inside another one that already had the cameras and presents set up.

„ No, you’re perfectly timed. They just left for the track walk so we at least have time before they would get back. ” She shook her head with a smile, closing the door behind me.

„ Even if he sees me here, he won’t know what’s happening. ” I shrugged a little, chuckling as I took my bag off my shoulder so I could open it. „ I don’t have it wrapped yet. We had like two papers at home and I knew he would recognize them. ” I got the plushie out from the bottom of my bag finally, fixing his little shirt.

„ That’s okay. I still have to wrap some, one more won’t break me. ” She shrugged with a smile, taking the teddy from my hand and placing it on the table next to the papers.

„ I can help if me staying isn’t a problem. ” I offered, taking a seat across from her when she handed me a roll of wrapping paper. I took it as her accepting my idea and I was happy to help, so we can be ready quicker.

It didn’t take long for us to finish up the task and I was just putting the last piece of tape onto my gift when we heard the guys arriving. The only things I knew it about was hearing George’s voice, and I panicked for a moment. By reflex I hid the green papered present at the bottom of the pile, even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to see inside of it. It was seconds after I got up from the chair when the door to the room opened and George’s head popped inside. He was just about to greet Sara when he saw me and could not stay outside. Seconds later he was next to me, with his arms around my body and I let out a laugh as I hugged him back.

„ Thought you wouldn’t get here until the evening… ” He looked at me curiously when he could finally let go of me a little. „ Not like I’m complaining, you just surprised me. ” He added, chuckling and I didn’t even know how much my ears missed that sound, until now.

„ Yeah, that was the plan. I finished up yesterday and caught an earlier plane here. ” I shrugged a little, grinning up at him when we let go of eachother. That’s when I realised how hard it will be to keep the secret to myself for the next day, until they’re gonna finally film the unwrapping.

~ ° ~

As Christmas time and the end of the year was getting closer all the F1 teams made sure they had enough content before the holidays would fully start. At Williams they already got the guys to film a little present opening video, where they had to get a stocking together for their teammate. Just when they gave the fans a sneak peak, they got another idea and let some of the fans send in little things for their drivers to open up. It was of course quite monitored, and they checked everything before it would get into the video as a present to either George or Nicky. I would have attended the filming anyways, as I always did when I was at the race circuit with them at the time, but then I realised it would be the perfect opportunity to surprise George with what I have been hiding from him for the last two weeks or so.

„ How far back would you like your gift to be? ” Sara asked me, while they were getting George ready behind the table. My little present was already next to all the other wrapped ones. I knew which one contained the little plushie, so I would know when it was about to be opened

„ It can be wherever you would like, but I don’t really know how much he will be able to focus after that. ” I let out a little laugh, making her smile too as she went back to get all of them in order.

I saw as she put it around the middle, and I was about to laugh at how unfocused George will be after opening it when he looked straight at me and I had to make sure to only just smile. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for him, and he knew me too well. It was already hard to stay silent about this for the last week, as I really wanted to plan the perfect announcement. This felt like a creative way of doing so, even though I was second guessing myself if he would be okay with me doing it so publicly, but I knew it was just probably hormones playing with my head.

„ Ready? ” We heard the cameraman ask and as soon as everyone gave him a nod they could finally start the quick countback. I watched as he started the camera and George looked right into it, to start his intro that they asked him to do.

I sat down a few meters away so I wouldn’t be in the shot but I could see him unwrapping everything. He seemed excited and I couldn’t help the smile that got on my face as we got closer and closer to the light green papered one, that was covering a piece of our future. It was so strange to know how much of our life will be changed in just a few months, hopefully only in good ways. When my present was handed to him I forced myself to take a deep breath as he started with the unwrapping. Just seconds later it’s ears were already visible and he took the rest of it out while a smile got on his face. It had a tiny Williams shirt on, with the ’World’s #1 dad’ text across it. I saw as confusion ran through his eyes but he still looked up at the camera with a smile.

„ I don’t really know what to say, but thank you! ” He let out a laugh and looked down at the little bear again, trying to figure out what it actually meant. „ Do we have a note for this one? ” He asked Sara, as there were some which included little letters from the sender, to explain the present.

She looked at me as an answer and when I looked back at George he was already looking at me confused. I already had my hand in front of my mouth to cover my grin, as I knew the camera would turn to me forsure. I motioned for him to turn the plushie in his hand so he could see the little ’to be’ text on his back. I wanted it on it, but more hidden so the bear could be relevant even after they were born, even though I knew he would love it nevertheless. He was still confused as he looked up at me again, his eyebrows furrowed. It made me laugh how clueless he was and that he couldn’t figure it out, even with all the tips.

„ I just hope they won’t inherit your discursive skills. ” Sara spoke up, making us all laugh as he looked around gnawing at his bottom lip, before his eyes landed on me again. I had my hand on my stomach instinctively, giving him another tip towards the solution.

He needed a second or two and one more look at the teddy’s clothing before his jaw went slack at the realisation. We moved at the same time and met in the middle as he hugged me to himself. The plushie was still in his hands as I hid my face in the junction of his neck and shoulder. I knew I was tearing up but I was sure he wasn’t any better if the wetness of his cheek on my neck was any indication. We stayed there for a second longer as I felt his hands clutch onto my sides. When we finally parted a little I leaned back to look at his face and with a chuckle, tried to get the tears off his cheeks with my thumbs. I gladly received his kiss, although tried to keep it short in front of his team, who were all clapping around us.

„ I knew that there was something… You were too quiet and sneaky. ” He sighed but I could hear the happiness in his voice although I knew it was probably still quite unbelievable to him. „ Since when? ” He shortly questioned before he would have to sit back so they could finish filming.

„ Around two months now. ” I answered, letting him rest his forehead on my shoulder again as my hand came up so my fingers could comn through the short strands at the nape of his neck. „ Go, wrap up the challenge. I’ll tell you everything afterwards. ” I promised him in a whisper, before giving one last little kiss to the corner of his mouth as he was lifting up his head.

I thought he would never let go of me but then gathered some willpower and stepped back from me so he could go back to the chair. I sat back down in my previous spot, pulling the light sweater around me a bit more, while I watched him take the last few presents so he could open them up. I knew he wasn’t as focused as before, but luckily his team was rather happy for us than angry with him for rushing a little in the end. They didn’t even try to get him to say a full outro, probably giving it to Nicky rather, so that he could leave a little earlier with me by his side, as he didn’t really want to let go of me after I was back in his proximity.

In the end they made a fully separate video just from the parts where he got the Teddy bear unwrapped and finally realised what was actually happening. The challenge came out just a few weeks after the shooting and then with our permission they shared ’our’ video on Christmas Day. This way we had time to tell our families and friends, so they didn’t have to find out from a YouTube video but at the same time the fans didn’t have to wait a lot longer. Never have I ever thought they would take it so well and we would get so much love and well wishes from them from the moment the video was public for them too. It made the holiday season even better as we felt like we were celebrating with all of them from around the world. I would have never changed it though.

#george russell #f1 #f1williams #george russell oneshot #george russell fanfic #george russell fanfiction #george russell imagine #f1 fanfiction

[thefanficmonster]

Stargazing

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: A year after the events that took place at the Bakers’ residence and the three years of Mia being missing, the Winters spouses have finally been healed enough to start getting back into a regular lively rhythm, nevertheless haunted by the nightmare they lived through. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Sorry you’ve had to wait so long for your request but here it finally is! They deserved so much better and I’ll never stop saying that! Sorry for the brief rant, still, hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Holding Ethan’s hand tightly, Mia follows his instructions to keep her gaze down at the ground and avoid looking up as much as possible. She’s been having a hard time containing the smile on her face, biting her bottom lip a lot to prevent it from showing. Same as she’s had a hard time keeping quiet with her guessing games of where Ethan’s taking her. The man’s unbreakable though, never once was he tempted to let her in on what he’s planned.

It’s been a year since the Baker incident and all the couple has done is switch from one coping mechanism to another. They got stuck in a sort of therapy-work-therapy cycle where they threw themselves in their work and periodically went to their psychiatric appointments, never daring to nudge the topic at home amongst themselves. It was enough that the whole night has remained as a dark cloud hanging over their heads, addressing it has simply been to painful so they’ve steered clear of the topic the best they could.

However, an important thing to note about this coping cycle they created is that it drove all the other mechanics in their lives and their relationship to become routinely and mechanic as well. There was little to no feeling in all they did - not that they ever did much together except have dinner and sometimes breakfast, both of them fully indulged in their work the rest of the day. Work became their therapy eventually, leaving little time for one another and for fixing what’s been broken between them. This conclusion bothered them both to no end but neither wanted to address it out of fear of disturbing the other.

Luckily, Ethan didn’t feel the need to bring it up before taking action.

“Here we are!“ He announces eventually, causing Mia to snap her head upwards without a second to spare, curious eyes doing the best they can to take in the dark surroundings. 

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t have any problem with the dark. What happened back in Louisiana didn’t give her a phobia of the dark or of ships as her therapist initially thought she’d develop. However, she’s got a huge fear of bugs and insects now - especially mosquitos. Count on her husband carrying anti bug spray wherever they go - now is no exception.

As her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of their surroundings, it doesn’t take her a while to realize they’re in an open yet secluded field. She’s not the slightest bit surprised by where he’s taken her, in fact, she recognizes it immediately. It’s the spot of their first official date.

“Who knew going to that dorm party would be the best thing I’d do in my life.“ He mumbles under his breath, admiring the sparkles in her eyes as she takes in the beautiful field bit by bit, letting the reel of memories play back, taking her all the way back to that first year of college, that fateful night when they met, followed by the night they came to this field.

“Who knew overcoming my fear of heights at an early age would’ve helped me find the man I’d eventually marry.“ She replies, turning to look at him, their gazes locking in place, both of them no reminiscing on those events they hadn’t recalled in a very long time.

2006

The humidity doesn’t suggest that the summer months have already ended. In fact, the air is still as unbreathable as it was in July and August, making the students who have to return to their studies super conflicted, longing for those beach days with little to no responsibilities. Given that no one is ready for the school year to start, the professors included, the first few weeks of college have been rather stress-free for Ethan. Well, that is if you don’t include the agony of moving into college as a freshman from an entirely different state.

Why he chose to go to college in Texas is a question he still doesn’t have a proper answer to. It was an impulsive, basically overnight decision, one that rattled his parents to no end when he announced it. However, having his own income and savings for college purposes, they couldn’t really do much in stopping him but they didn’t support him either. They kept trying to change his mind until the very last day but alas he stood his ground and now here he is, in his college dorm, trying to read a book while there’s a raging party going on just two floors above. The music is so loud though that is sounds more like it’s taking place in his closet instead. 

His roommate went up to help set the party up, only putting mild effort into getting his Cali-boy roommate to tag along and join the shenanigans which Ethan appreciated. Parties have never really been his scene so he knew he would’ve kept refusing no matter how much he tried getting him up there.

Finding the read hopeless due to the distractions, Ethan ditches the book and lays back on his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling like a fish out of water, ready to suffocate any minute. The AC in the dorm is faulty so it’s not serving its purpose properly, leaving the air at the same temperature as it would be had the device not been turned on at all. He’s stranded on things to do, feeling awfully caged in this new environment without any proper entertainment, going even as far as to second-guess if his parents were maybe right all along.

Fortunately for him, just then, his roommate bursts in, humming along to the song that’s currently being played at the party, never missing a tune even in his clearly intoxicated state.

“Hey Winters, aren’t you Californians supposed to know of a good time? You’re disappointing me right now.“ Jared slurs, laughing a bit as he leans against the wall to keep himself to his feet.

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Thought I’d be a party animal? Sorry for the letdown.”

Jared laughs, shaking his head, “Come on, Cali. You have two semesters to be sulking around, it’s too early to start. Listen, one beer and thirty minutes, that’s all I’m asking you for. If you like it you can stick around. If not, feel free to leave. Just please give it a shot. How else are you supposed to make friends?”

Ethan stops to contemplate for a second, weighing his options. Jared takes this as a hopeful sign, seeing as how his offer wasn’t immediately turned down as it was the first time. Finally, the blond sighs in defeat: “Ok, but thirty minutes only.“ He says as he slides off the bed, briefly looking at himself in the mirror and deeming his appearance decent enough for a dorm party. As a very new student, he’d like to make a good first impression on his classmates but given that they’re all probably wasted, he’s not stressing too much over his looks at the moment.

Following Jared up to the floor of the party, he’s immediately handed a beer which he accepts with little hesitation. His roommate goes around introducing him to a few people before he disappears with some girl he claims has been his on-again-off-again girlfriend since sophomore year of high school - Sarah. Ethan, of course, doesn’t stop him despite hating the ide of finding himself stuck alone in a crowd of people he’s seeing for the first time in his life. Still, he sticks to the deal: thirty minutes and a beer...ok, two beers, but they’ve done nothing to make him enjoy this party.

So, off he goes to search for Jared to tell him he’s leaving. Thinking he saw the dark haired girl he went off with going up the stairs to the roof, he quickly follows.

Little does he know, that’s not the dark haired girl he’s looking for. That’s Mia

Mia, the rowdy, outgoing Texas tomboy who, unlike Ethan, thoroughly enjoys going to parties and having a good time with her friends and a few drinks. However, even a party animal such as herself sometimes needs to take a breather especially when people are smoking cigarettes as though they’re inhaling air and she’s never tried a cigarette in her life and is actually quite against the idea. She found this rooftop to be her prefect hideaway whenever she felt like her surroundings would suffocate her. Students were strictly instructed that climbing up there would earn them a penalty but that didn’t bother her in the slightest - She’s been frequenting the roof already and it’s been barely a week of her fresh start in college. Luckily, she got over her fear of heights at the tender age of twelve so this journey to quite a high point doesn’t pose as much stress as it would’ve about a decade ago.

As she lies on the floor, looking up at the starry night sky above, she nearly jumps out of her skin when another voice calls out to her presumably though it’s not using the correct name.

“Hey, um, S-Sarah? Have you seen Jared?“ 

Mia turns her head as she sits up, one eyebrow raised as she takes a good look at the silhouette which this voice belongs to. It’s pretty dark so even if she knew him, she wouldn’t be able to recognize him but judging by the voice, this is not someone she’s familiar with. And judging by the accent, this guy is not from around here.

“I’m not Sarah, but if you’re looking for Jared Letterwood, I can guarantee he’s in Sarah’s dorm.“ Mia chuckles, “I’d know. Sarah’s my roommate.“

Ethan cringes at the thought, “Yikes, you’ve got it rough. I mean, Jared’s my roommate but so far I haven’t had to leave the dorm for him to...you know. Hope I never have to.” Suddenly, an idea strikes him, “Wait, where are you gonna sleep tonight?”

She laughs, lying back down with her arms folded behind her head, “Right here.” She drags out the words as she adjusts her position a little, eyes fluttering closed. “Stargazing helps me fall asleep. The whole ambience up here is just...perfect, you know. Jared and Sarah are really doing me a favor.”

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Call me crazy, but I’ve never stargazed in my life. I don’t know, never really saw the whole appeal. Sure, it’s cool to see in a movie or whatever, but it’s got no real purpose in real life. Not that I’m trying to bash your hobby or anything...”

Before the clueless blond could finish his statement, Mia’s already snapped up in a sitting position, giving him a narrow-eyed glare he can’t really see in the darkness. Her hand taps the spot next to her, “Don’t knock until you try it, Cali boy. Come’ere, see what you’re missing out on.”

Though reluctant, Ethan takes a few steps forward, stopping for a second to ask: “Wait, how’d you know I’m Californian?” Regardless of his confusion, he sits his ass down as he was told, awkwardly laying down so that there’s half a foot or less between their bodies so he doesn’t accidentally touch her and run the risk of freaking her out.

“I know a lot of things, Cali. Unfortunately, your name isn’t one of them. That being said, either you tell me it, or I’ll have to keep calling you Cali.“ She says teasingly.

“Ethan. My name’s Ethan.“ He says through a sigh, unable to contain the smile that spreads across his face.

A smile mimicking his appears on her face as well, “Nice to meet you, Ethan. The name’s Mia.“

Needless to say, the following morning Ethan woke up still on the roof, and surprisingly and terrifyingly enough, with the girl he barely met the night prior in his arms. Under the light of the newly rising day he could examine her features better, taking in her absolute beauty, her pale features contrasting her dark as the night hair. She’s still asleep so he can’t see her eyes but he has no doubt they are as beautiful as she is. Everything about her looks so delicate yet sharp simultaneously. And he’s simply in awe.

To avoid any awkwardness in case she wakes up, he falls back asleep, not even trying to remove his arms from around her body, silently hoping she won’t kick his ass for it. The next time he wakes up, an undecided amount of time later, he’s alone on the rooftop. Alone with a note that says: ‘Did you like it? If yes, I got a better stargazing spot to show ya. You know where to find me 

 ~ M‘

“And boy, was I missing out on something.“ Ethan whispers, gently running his fingers through his wife’s hair as they lay in that same field she was referring to in her note to him, gazing up at the stars, limbs intertwined, bodies completely collided.

“Told ya. Stargazing is incredible, ain’t it?“ Mia replies, snuggling closer though that’s simply impossible.

Her husband chuckles, his chest rumbling with the noise, “That’s not really what I meant.”

Her brows furrow but she doesn’t look at him, “Oh? Then what did you mean?”

With a content sigh, he replies, “I was missing out on having you in my arms, falling asleep and waking up by your side.“ He says, his lips planting a gentle kiss at the top of her head that has her melting in his embrace.

Mia’s not the romantic nor cheesy half of this relationship, quite the opposite, but she feels emotions to a way deeper level than Ethan would imagine her feeling. So, thankful to the darkness, Mia allows her eyes to gloss over with emotional tears as she rises up to collide her lips with his in a soft and tender kiss. 

“I missed you so much, Mia.“ Ethan whispers when they pull away, foreheads resting against each other.

“I promise to never make you miss me again, baby.“ She replies in a tone as hushed as his. As though they are both afraid someone would overhear this vow of theirs and try to force them to break it.

“That’s impossible.“ He says with a soft chuckle, “I always miss you at least a little.“

Mia hums in response, “Well, right now, you don’t have to miss me at all. I’m all yours. You’re the only thing on my mind, Mr. Winters.“

Even in the dark, she sees the grin that lights up his face, “As you are the only thing on mine, Mrs. Winters.” With that, their lips reestablish their contact, this time maintaining it longer, making it more passionate than before.

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