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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

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kirishwima · 3 years

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Hello lovely! Hope you're doing well. 💖 If you're taking Mysme requests still, I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the RFA+V (and Saeran if you want) with a female MC who has depression and struggles with being overweight and the insecurity that that brings, but instinctively hides her stress and prioritizes the others over herself?

anon are you Me. Are You. this is too specific and i relate 100%, i'm sorry you feel this way, know i love & appreciate you <33

I'll use she/her pronouns for MC since you specified them!

RFA + Saeran with an insecure, depressed, overweight MC:

Yoosung:

* Listen, I love him, but boy would take a while to realise that MC's insecure, especially if she keeps hiding her own anxiety to help him when he's upset

* He will tell her he loves her CONSTANTLY, and when you don't love yourself, hearing that can...hurt sometimes, makes you doubt yourself. If she doesn't voice this concern, he won't take much note of it-he'll understand when she's upset, of course, and do his best to help, but he's not the best at reading between the lines, so she'll need to be a little bit more upfront about it

* The one scenario I can picture, is him coming home one day, perhaps finding MC getting dressed or after a shower-standing in front of a mirror, gaze averted, shoulders tense.

* He's happy to see her, but notices her stiff smile, how she flinches away when he goes to hug her, and when he asks what's wrong, if she says 'nothing' he'll insist until she talks to him, tells him her insecurities, how she doesn't get what he sees in her, how she'll be happy when they're together but then feel so empty the next moment.

* He'll feel SO guilty for not recognising the signs, but he won't beat himself up over it-what's most important is helping her, not wallowing in self-pity.

* He'll sit with MC for as long as it takes that day, will hold her close and list all the things he loves about her even if she doesn't believe a single one of them. He can't relate to the insecurities about her body, though he'll try to convince her he loves her as is-because it's the truth! He can however, relate to what it's like to feel empty, to force yourself through the motions of daily life while shrivelling up inside.

* So he vows to help, in anyway possible.

Zen:

* Listen, I refuse to believe that behind all that narcissism there aren't insecurities stemming from all the shit he's been through in his childhood. Boy's developed narcissism to cope with what he thought of himself as a kid, and I stand by that.

* So he's more observant than you might think-when he sees MC checking herself in the mirror, poking at her stomach, how she'll sigh and put a big hoodie over her t-shirt, how she shies away from physical affection, how seeing him shirtless oftentimes makes her feel bad about herself, that he 'has to be seen with her'-he notices it all, and hates it, hates that her brain made her think she's anything less than gorgeous.

* He tried asking her about it but she insists she's fine and she's no more or less insecure than the average person-ever the one to try and keep his worry at bay.

* So instead he'll let her know he loves her every single day, will tell her he loves her body, will post online about how proud he is to be with her-for all the world to know, so no one will ever dare question her worth.

* It's an uphill battle, and it's not one Zen can win for her, but he'll do his best to help, so she can realise her own self-worth.

Jaehee:

* Baehee would be one of the most observant people in the RFA-though she doesn't share the same insecurities, she can understand them, and will often prod MC, asking her to talk about anything that might be bothering her.

* If MC says 'it's nothing, please don't worry', she won't push much; she doesn't want her to completely clam up. But she'll always be gentle, holding MC's hands as she says she'll always be here if MC wants to talk, that she helped her so much she wants to be MC's support too.

* I know how weird it feels lending clothes to others when you're chubby-so I feel like sharing clothes with Jaehee would be...an ordeal. Being unable to wear Jaehee's skinny jeans, whilst she can fit into MC's, would sting, and it'd only add onto MC's guilt-she doesn't want to feel this way about her girlfriend! She loves her, appreciates her, doesn't ever want her to know about these thoughts.

* But again, Jaehee knows. She understands it, so-she takes MC shopping, and together they buy matching pairs of pyjamas and t-shirts, things that, whilst they don't need to share, can wear and be reminded of one another.

* "I love you as you are-you accepted me for who I am, so let me do the same for you" she'll say, will hug MC and hold her close until she lets her feelings out, talks about her worries.

* Jaehee would be eager to help search for a good psychologist, to get MC professional help-she knows what she can do as MC's girlfriend isn't much, so she wants MC to get the best help she can.

*And of course, she'll be there for MC every step of the way

Jumin:

* oof...listen. He loves MC SO much, will buy her the moon if she asks, but this man..he's only recently discovered his own emotions. He's emotionally dense, and when MC says she's fine, he tends to take it at face value. Why would MC lie to him, after all? She trusts him enough to let him know if something's bothering her, doesn't she?

* Not to say he doesn't realise there's something wrong-he's a businessman, reading his clients is a part of his job description, emotions included. So when MC's smile stretches thin, when she's overwhelmed but swallows it down in favour of acting like everything's okay, he knows-maybe not to the extent that others might've, but he can tell something's wrong, and he'll honestly be upset MC doesn't talk to him about it.

* So he'll just...sit down and talk to her about it. Ask her to be upfront with him, tell her he wants her to be happy, that he wants to be there for her and help her any way he can, but can't do that if she doesn't talk with him and let him know what's wrong.

* If MC breaks down-if she cries, hides her face in her hands, he'll be shell-shocked. He's so used to her smiling, even at the face of adversity, that seeing her like this...he has no idea what to do at first, not one used to emotional outbursts.

* Insticts soon kick in though, and he gathers her in his arms, rubs his hands on her back, letting her cry until she calms down, no matter how long that takes.

* When she tells him about her depression, her insecurities, he'll nod, quietly listening to her worries, formulating a plan of attack.

* He quite bluntly doesn't understand why she's insceure. She's beautiful?? He loves her exactly as she is?? If she wants to change something about her appearance she's more than welcome to, but to want to do that because she feels she must is...absurd. He simply won't allow it.

* I know it's a cliche in a lot of these headcanons, that he'd buy perfectly tailored clothes for MC, that he'd purchase the finest, most flattering clothes for her to feel as beautiful as she is in his eyes, but it's true-he would, hell, he'd probably read up on fashion himself so he'd be able to help her pick out outfits. He'd do anything for MC, and that's NOT an exaggeration.

* Plus he'd insist on her going to therapy-I headcanon that after realising his own emotions he'd probably start attending therapy sessions himself, to try and get a better read on his emotions, so he'll be a pretty strong advocate for therapy, and he wants the very best for MC.

Seven:

* HAHAHAHAHAH.

* This man...not only can he absoloutely relate, it's honestly a big reason why their relationship is rocky, to say the least.

* Having two depressed, self-sarificing people who'd rather bury their emotions in the depths of their gut rather than admit emotional vulnerability in a relationship? Yeah, not a good idea.

* He'll be using humour to cope with his depression, trying to get MC to open up instead, whilst MC's just pretending she's Never Had a Negative Thought in her life, trying to get Seven to open up instead. You see the issue, yeah?

* Honestly it'll take a lot of walking on eggshells and dancing around the issue until either one of them breaks down, admitting defeat, or they share an honest, adult conversation about their emotions and about how they both need help-which, realistically speaking, I find quite unlikely to happen.

* Not to say the relationship won't work out-God, Seven wants it to work out so, so much. He'll tell MC he loves her constantly, he'll make it so in order to enter the apartment, she'll need to say one thing she loves about herself each day at the security door before it can be unlocked, he'll do everything in his power to help her with her body issues because he loves her, worships her as is.

* The ideal solution honestly would be someone else from the RFA-Jaehee probably, lol, coming to boink them both over the head and drag them to therapy, both individual and couple's sessions, so they can finally start expressing their emotions to one another in a way that ISN'T memes or self-deprecating humour.

* It'll take a while but-they'll make it work. They love one another too much not to.

V/Jihyun:

* This man. This sweet, sweet man.

* He knows what it's like to be insecure, to feel uncomfortable in your own skin, knows what depression is like, how it takes a hold of you and leaves you a shell of who you once were, or worse-who you could've been.

* He's so attuned to his own emotions, he's learnt to recognise the signs in himself-and ergo can tell when someone else is also suffering, although to what extent, it's not always easy to tell.

* He hates MC feeling this way about herself. He loves her so much, she's the one that pulled him out of his own self-depracating, self-sacrifising depressed state, has helped him seek help and become a better man-he wants to be able to support her too, wants to do everything in his power to help.

* But helping someone who won't even admit there's something wrong...isn't easy. He's so gentle and patient though, and slowly helps tear MC's walls down. He'll never prod too much, will simply..be there for her. Will hug her, run his fingers down her sides. If she squirms away, afraid of him feeling her love handles, he'll simply smile and say he loves her, finds every single thing about her beautiful-he'll purposely trail his hands to said love handles, if she's comfortable with it, looking her straight in the eye when he says "Every part of you, I'm in love with. Please don't take my words lightly."

* If she's up for it, he'd love to photograph her-but it's not easy, when you're so awkward in your own skin, to accept to be viewed through a camera lens. So instead he'll draw her, his sketchbook filled with doodles of her face when she's happy, when she's concentrating, her body as she sleeps, head smooshed into the pillow.

* He'll never push her, letting her take things at her own pace-but he'll be there to aid in every single step

Saeran:

* I know I said it for Seven and V to but...out of everyone, I feel like he'd understand MC's predicament the most. Insecure about his frail body, dealing with the trauma Mint Eye has left him with, trying to combat his demons and anxieties whilst trying to return to being a member of society-he's going through...a lot, to say the least.

* So it's honestly understandable how MC will swallow down her own issues, do her best to support Saeran instead. Will she break in the process? Perhaps. She doesn't care. Not if she can help him in the process.

* Saeran might not notice it initially, too focused on his own issues which-honestly, understandable. It's not everyday you leave a cult after all. But the more he talks with MC, the more he realises she's hiding so much from him, slowly notices how often she forces a smile on her face, how she'll nervously cover her mid-riff with her arms whilst sitting down, how she shies away from attention-

*He's almost never the one to initiate physical affection with her, and she doesn't initiate it much either-but when he does, when he leans in to kiss her and feels her tense he panics, pulls away because-is she reacting this way because she doesn't want him?

* When she explains it's not that, that she loves him and wants to be with him, he'll press the issue, ask her why she'll shy away from him then-not in a mean way, he'll just honestly be so worried, wondering what's wrong and how he could help.

* And when/if MC does tell him about her issues...there's not honestly much he could do. He'll tell her he loves her, that she's beautiful, that her body's a vessel to carry her soul around, and that soul is so wonderful it radiates joy to everyone around her, but he knows how hard it is to believe such words when in this mindset.

* So instead, he suggests they go to therapy together. He knows it's not the easiest thing in the world-but he wants her to get the help she deserves. He'll hold her hand on the way to her first session, will wait outside for her, smiling up at her when she's done.

* Things will slowly get better for the both of them.

-masterpost-

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julieloveupstead · 3 years

Text

"It Was So Close" - Upstead 8x07

Description: They came so close to losing the most important person in their lives in an instant, but after all, they are police officers and that's their job risk, right?

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Hailey was still asleep when Jay left her suite. They were going to start working separately that day. Jay, Adam, Kevin, and Kim were working on the Becerra brothers of the Latin Players, who Ruzek had been working on for the past few days, and Hailey had some paperwork due that had her at her desk all morning. She didn't know why, but she had the radio on on their shared frequency and was listening to something she didn't even know what exactly. Maybe she wanted to kill the boredom and the silence in the room or she wanted to make sure that the work the team was working on went according to the plan and that nothing unexpected happened, although she did not expect anything special to happen. She was almost finished with her report when Kim's voice came over the radio

- 5021, Eddie, 10-1, 10-1! Shots fired at police. We're at 4200 South Justine.

- Sergeant! - she called out and immediately a grey head emerged from her office.

- We have undercover officers firing shots. - Kim could still be heard.

- Let's go - decided the boss. Hailey took her jacket and ran to the car. When she heard her friend's words her heart stopped and the darkest thoughts came into her head and she didn't know how to throw them out. After all, Jay was surely fine, right? Shit what if he's lying there right now with a hole in his caltrop and oh god what if he's bleeding out right now and I'm not there with him? No, no, no, no. I'll never forgive myself for not being there, and I suggested to Jay that he wanted me to go with them, but he told me to get some sleep. Oh my God, what if this morning was our last? I'll never see his green eyes again, his wonderfully gallant smile that is reserved just for me and that makes my knees soften and butterflies dance in my stomach. Oh god, oh god, Hailey get a grip on yourself damn it nothing happened because if something bad happened Kim or Kevin would report it, right?

There was a war going on in Hailey's head, and her heart was rumbling in persi, and squeezing unpleasantly in her stomach. She was trembling all over her body and could barely keep herself from crying, but she knew that with Voight around, she couldn't afford to.

For Hailey, it took forever to get to the scene of the shooting, and when Voight finally parked, she took off running, praying that Jay would be okay and that she could scold him for freaking me out again.

- Jay! - shouted Hailey as soon as she saw Kim, who was waiting for backup. Apparently they had arrived first, which probably meant that nothing bad had happened, but as she got closer she saw a black cloth and a piece of shoe sticking out from under it. She froze at the sight and couldn't even move or breathe. She didn't hear someone say her name, she didn't feel Kim touch her arm. All that mattered was that she was late. That she wasn't where she needed to be, that she had let him down. She had promised Jay that she would always cover his back, that she would always be there for him. She was mad at herself for daring to tell him so late that he had long been more than a partner and friend to her. She regretted that they had so little time to themselves. She hadn't had time to tell him that she loved him, that she wanted to become his wife and grow old with him. Yes they had only been together for a month and hadn't really talked seriously about the next steps in their relationship, but it was so obvious to her that he was the one for her that she hadn't considered that something like that would happen. Or should she? She dropped to her knees a few inches from where the body was and, with trembling hands, reached to hide the bag, but then, as if from an abyss, a voice emerged that always brought her out of the dusk. She closed her eyes and let out a few tears that came unexpectedly, she wanted so badly to remember that sound.

- Hailey - she heard someone calling her more clearly now, but she still didn't open her eyes. She was afraid that if she opened them she would not see the most calming and amazing green of Jay's eyes in front of her. - 'Hailey, open your eyes, please,' she heard someone whisper, and someone's hands drawing unknown patterns on her shoulders. Just because she smelled a familiar scent she slowly opened her eyes. At first she thought it was a dream, but then when she studied with her eyes the whole face looking at her with worry, and steam escaped from his mouth, she believed that she was not dreaming that there was a whole and healthy Jay kneeling before her. Then all her senses seemed to awaken from their winter sleep and she realized what she had done, what a circus she had put on. Because of her, it was probably now anyone's guess that she and Jay were together. Damn.

When her breathing normalized and her thoughts returned to normal, she wordlessly got up from her knees and moved away from Jay, who now really looked worried and she knew he wanted to talk, but her survival instinct told her to put on the mask of a professional cop and go back to work as if nothing had happened. Because, after all, nothing had happened. Jay was alive and that was the most important thing, and they could talk later when they got back to her apartment after work. She let Jay know that she was okay and that they would talk later, and then she walked off in the direction of the arriving officers.

There was no time to talk for most of the day, about what had happened that morning. Hailey buried deep in her memory what had happened and did her best not to over-intellectualize the stares her colleagues were sending her, especially not to give into Jay's constantly sending her stares. She tried to work and act like she did on any normal work day, which was to say, professional and cold-blooded, as if it wasn't happening. She worked and functioned better that way. The only upside was that she wasn't avoiding Jay she just knew that command wasn't the place to talk, last time they broke that promise and she's pretty sure Kev suspected something. She'd promised herself she'd never let that happen again, and oh this morning it all came to a head, and now she was sure everyone knew about them. Damn. She could have acted more professionally, but emotions got the better of her.

On the other hand, no surprise there, right? Jay had already escaped death almost twice in front of her eyes, until now she sometimes wakes up at night with the sight of a bloody and unconscious Jay in that damn basement. More her reaction shouldn't surprise anyone and it doesn't have to mean anything right away. I'm sure I'm just exaggerating all these looks. She kept repeating to herself. Her head was starting to hurt from all this, so she got up from the desk she was sitting at and headed towards the breakroom with the intention of making herself some coffee.

Adam and Kim went to talk to Adam's CI, Kev disappeared as I suspect to call Vanessa who got a job in the drug department. Voight, on the other hand, went to see Deputy Inspector Samantha Miller, so it was just Jay and her left in the break room.

- Hey - she heard Jay's voice behind her who she didn't even know was standing behind her, she was still consumed with thoughts from the whole day and which she was trying so hard to keep out of her mind. She turned with a small tired smile towards the man. Jay also had a similar smile on his face, but she could also see that he looked worried and as she guessed probably because of her. This guy was unsmiling. He had barely escaped with his life recently, and he would always worry more about her than himself. Sometimes she felt guilty about it, because she didn't want to cause him even more problems, and now since they were together she felt overwhelmed by it, because no one in her life and the early one where parents in any normal family should do it and the later one when she grew up no one cared about her like he did. At every step he proved how much she meant to him. She almost felt like a princess with him. And maybe that's why losing him scared her so much back then.

- Hey, you want some coffee? - I asked, trying to sound as natural as possible, but it only took a glance at Jay to know that he didn't believe her one bit, but he slowly nodded.

Jay sat down on the couch waiting for Hailey to make them coffee in peace. He wanted to give her a moment to sort out her thoughts, he didn't want to rush her, his goal all along had been to reaffirm that she could always count on him, that he would always be there for her, despite everything. This was, after all, how their thing had started and how it would be until the end, because this was how they functioned. So without rushing, he waited patiently for Hailey to open her heart and soul to him. He did not care if it could be today, tomorrow, next week, next month or even next year, for him the most important thing was that in the end he would entrust her demons to him. And even the smallest secret from her childhood, or what she felt, would fill him with unbelievable love and pride, that she was able to trust him.

And so they sat in the kitchen, in the department and sipped their coffee unhurriedly. Jay often tried not to look at his girlfriend, but sometimes he couldn't help thinking what a damn lucky guy he was to have such an amazing woman by his side. When he heard the shots his first thought was Hailey and the guilt he felt for letting her down again, for breaking the promise he'd made to her a year ago and he'd repeated that promise last week, that he'd always come back to her. He couldn't do that to her, not when his biggest dream had come true. She was the only thing that had kept him alive for four years now almost. When he heard her calling him there that morning he felt so relieved that they still had time and a chance for everything that awaited them on their journey together. What bothered him, however, was the state Hailey was in and he knew full well it was all his fault. This overbearing little person must have been terrified and it reawakened old memories that they both wanted to forget.

- When I heard over the radio that there had been gunshots... - Hailey spoke so quietly, but Jay would have heard her even at the end of the world. He gave all his attention to his girlfriend, he would always want her to know that she was the most important thing to him, so he sat quietly letting her calmly express her emotions, he didn't rush her. - And then when she saw the two bags.... - he didn't need to see her face to know that there were tears in her beautiful ocean blue eyes. Jay stood up and slowly walked over to her. He set his cup down on the table and knelt by the woman of his life.

- Hey, Hailey will you look at me? - he asked himself just as quietly. His heart was breaking into a million little pieces when he saw how scared she was. He slowly wiped away the tears running down her cheeks with his thumb, then took her hand with his and squeezed it tightly. He wanted her to know that he was here, that he would not leave her. He did everything slowly and calmly, he didn't want her to cringe inside, to suffer. He dreamed of taking away all her pain, fear and anxiety and all the weight she carried on her back. - I'm sorry I scared you, I'm sorry it all came back again, I'm sorry you had to go through this again. - With every word, he looked centrally into her eyes. - I can't even imagine what you went through today. I'm so damn sorry, Sunshine.

- It's okay, Jay, it's our job, right? - she said trying to sound more confident, but Jay knew her too well. The green-eyed man merely nodded, knowing that slowly Hailey was trying to end the conversation, and he didn't want to pressure her or force her into anything knowing that then she would shut down completely. That's why he sent her a small reassuring smile, he hoped she could read from his gaze, his face, everything he wasn't able to convey with speech. He stood up and hugged the girl sitting in the chair and kissed her head.

Back then, Jay didn't know that he would soon feel a substitute for what Hailey probably felt every time she saw him in a more dangerous situation. Now he was more determined to be more careful, because the kind of fear and helplessness he'd felt out there under the warehouse when they'd managed to catch those responsible for that morning's shooting and when it got hot and he didn't have a good place to shoot he didn't wish on anyone.

Today was so close to both of them losing what is most important to them, but all the more reason for both of them to be determined to keep fighting and never stop.

#upstead #upstead fic #upstead fanfiction #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #chicago pd 8x07

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straightouttaneptune · 4 years

Text

Partner

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: FLOOF, everyone except Tasha and Y/N is stupid, swearing, guns, fighting, that’s it bb!

Summary: Natasha is assigned a mission with an Agent she doesn’t know. So, she ends up dragging a civilian who she assumes is her partner into a highly-violent mission.

A/N: AHHHHH EVERYONE ITS MY FIRST FIC IN MONTHS IM BACK THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND THE PATIENCE!!

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Y/N Y/L/N. You were just another citizen of the planet earth, not an inhuman, not an assassin, not a super, not a mutant and certainly not an Avenger. You grew up in an everyday household, went to school, had decent grades, led a good career, and overall life.

So... how did you get here right now? To know this, we have to rewind time, to around a month ago.

-11:00 am, SHIELD office 09

"Agent Romanoff, sorry to do this to you." Nick Fury looked over at Natasha apologetically, while she herself remained stoic. "But you know that the rest of your teammates can be... unpredictable." To this, she let out a small chuckle.

"It's not a big deal, I know they can be dramatic." She slid the file on the table, opening it to examine the details of the mission. "Wait, this is a doubles mission?" The surprise was evident in her voice, as she assumed that this would be a one-woman job.

"She's a beginner agent. Don't worry, she's just there for support." Fury stated casually as if he didn't leave out one of the most relevant information.

"Right, okay, can I meet her?"

"No. She's out at the moment."

"How do you expect me to work with someone I've never met?" Natasha inquired, confused beyond words.

"There's a description! And everything!" Fury defended himself, pointing at the file she held in her hands. At that moment, Natasha could see why he was the leader of the Avengers. Sighing in defeat, she retreated back to the training area.

Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes, around her age, pretty, it probably wouldn't be hard to find this partner. And just like that, her mind wandered away from the mission, to her training regime for the day.

-5:00 pm, Y/N's apartment

"C'mon, Y/N! It'll be so fun, I'm telling you!" Your old uni friend pleaded over the phone, while you balanced the pros and cons of going out tonight.

"Mm, I don't know... I mean, I was going to have a Star Wars marathon." You pouted, glancing at your TV wantingly. Oh, what you'd give to cuddle up with a tub of ice cream tonight.

"Y/N, come on. You can't just couch potato every day." You ran out of excuses to give, reluctantly agreeing to her offer.

"God, I haven't been to a club in forever." You rummaged through your closet, only finding office clothes and comfy hoodies. In the very back, though, you knew that there was a little skimpy dress you used to wear back when you were in university. "... Fuck it. It's just one night."

You closed the door to your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest. You hadn't dressed like this in what felt like forever, you almost forgot how good you looked. Whatever happens, you had your trusty taser gun hidden in your thigh-high boots.

Feeling like an utter and complete boss b*tch, you entered the booming club with your friends in tow. "Y/N! I knew you still had it in ya." You rolled your eyes at one of your friends' comments, but your heart secretly swelled at her words.

The start of the night was amusing, but as time flew by, your buddies were swooped away by unknown guys and girls, leaving you to drink all alone by the bar. Of course, it wasn't like you didn’t have dance requests and numbers asked, but none of them really interested you.

Natasha had arrived at the club a little later than you did, clad in a spy-dress and spy-shoes with various weapons hidden underneath, inside, wherever there was space. The infamous Strucker was reported to be here in this club tonight, but first, she needed to find her associate.

It wasn't hard to find you, as she assumed that an Agent would be somewhere that was easy to see, unlike the dance floor. So the bar. And luckily, by the bar, there was only one woman who fit the description given to her. You.

To her surprise, you were way more distracting than she had expected. Your short dress hugged your curves just right, your effortless movements were eye-catching and elegant. And your smile, god. The way you smiled at the bartender made her wish she was him.

But at that moment, she was an Agent of SHIELD, and she had a job to do.

You were just about to order another glass of your drink when a hand was laid on your shoulder. You looked back to see if it was another flirter, but was taken aback by the gorgeous woman standing there. She had her calloused hand on your shoulder, yet her eyes were not on you, scanning the crowd.

"Uhm, can I help-"

"How did you get here?" Natasha recited her code-word, to double-check if it really was her assigned partner.

"With my friends...?" You wondered if you were drunker than you thought, and hallucinating this beautiful woman in front of you, asking weird questions.

But the problem was, "With my friends" was the actual code-word.

"Good. Agent Natasha Romanoff. I assume you already know about the mission. I've got intel that Strucker's up in the VIP lounge." She gently tugged at your arm and pulled you off of your stool, handing you an earpiece.

"Oh, um..." You tried to ask this 'Agent Natasha Romanoff' what was happening, but she continued to talk about things you couldn't even start to comprehend.

"Come on, put it on. We might need it." She stared you down, in a quite intimidating manner, that you had no choice but to follow. You really didn't know what was happening, whether this was role-playing or something else, you had no idea.

You really didn't have much else to do anyway, maybe it wouldn't be that bad to just go with it. You were a little tipsy, but not so much that you could be dreaming about this whole conversation. Maybe it was this woman's way of hitting on you? They say weird things happen in clubs, right? (They don't)

"We have to get through the 4 security details on the outside, plus the 10 estimated to be inside." You watched with your eyes glued to her smooth movements, as she checked her various hidden weapons. You were so entranced that with a little help from alcohol, you managed to completely ignore the fact that this didn't look normal. At all.

"It's fine, I know you just started. Just be on alert, alright?" Although Natasha felt her partner's whole attitude was a little off, she shook it off, reminding herself that she had just started out. "Say, what should I call you?" She asked, starting to walk towards the stairs leading to Strucker's location.

"Oh, uhm- Y/N's fine." You stuttered, suddenly pulled away from a trance-like state you were in. "Right, and where are we go-"

Suddenly, as the two of you got to the top of the stairs, Natasha shushed you and slammed you on the wall before you made a turn around the corner. Your cheeks burned up at her roughness, and her close proximity to you.

"Okay, I've got visual. 4 men, not an issue. Stay here." She whispered, and before you could even respond, she was out of your sight.

"What the fuck?!" After a few moments, you peeked over at where Natasha had gone, just to be met with a sight of 4 bodies on the floor. You debated whether to just run away while she was distracted, but she had already gotten to you, pulling you by your arm.

"I know this is your first field mission, Agent. But I need support." You had no reason to comply, except for the shiny black gun she held in her hands. Your breath hitched at the weapon, your mouth unable to form words. Telling yourself that this will be over soon, you could only follow. At the very least, she didn’t look like she was going to shoot you.

From there, you experienced something you never thought you would, ever, in your life. As soon as Natasha kicked open the door to the lounge, bullets were flying, kicks and punches were being thrown everywhere, knives flying across the air, and whole lotta things that had you cursing in confusion and fear every 10 seconds.

Natasha, in the corner of her eyes, saw the panic that flashed across your eyes. She shoved you to the farthest corner of the room, shielding the knives and guns that pointed your way. She usually would’ve been annoyed at an Agent’s lack of experience, but seeing you so small almost hurt her physical heart.

You were curled up by the wall, watching this intricate dance of deadliness. But even though the chaos, the woman, who called herself Agent Natasha Romanoff was like a magnet for your eyes. Her movements, her punches, kicks, even the way she held her gun was so rhythmical and controlled, that you almost forgot you were in the middle of a gun-fight.

That's when it hit you.

She was a real Agent who mistook you for her partner.

So when Natasha was going one-on-one and overpowered by who seemed to be the leader of the gang, you only had 2 choices in front of you. Either you run while all the other men are knocked out and the leader is distracted, or you toughen up and help Natasha.

It was perfect. The mafia-looking guy had his back to you, completely unaware that you were even in the room. All rational thoughts went out the window as you heard Natasha choke in his grip. You almost don't remember what you did after that. All you know is that you slid your stun-gun out of your boot, and shot him right on his shoulder.

You stood still in your spot after that, watching as she cleaned up.

"Thanks for the last-minute save." Natasha's voice sounded like you were hearing her from underwater, your senses dulled from the shock. You fell to the floor, suddenly losing control of your legs.

"Hey, what's the matter?" She dropped the knocked out and hand-cuffed body of the man on the ground, and ran over to you.

"Agent... I'm not who you think I am." You looked up at her with glossy eyes, not even knowing why you were about to cry.

-a whole lot of explaining later-

"You're a civilian." She fell down next to you, clearly horrified by this new revelation. "I don't even know how to apologize. I'm sorry." She cradled her head in her hands, cursing herself for being so irresponsible.

"Uhm, Agent Romanoff? It's okay, I think." You wiped away your stray tears, cry-laughing at yourself and this whole ridiculous situation. Natasha looked over at you with sympathy filled in her eyes, laying a hand over yours that rested on the carpet.

"Oh god, this is crazy." Natasha couldn't do anything but laugh. The two of you kept on talking and laughing about how today turned out as you dragged the handcuffed body out of the VIP exit, and into her police-car like vehicle.

You had to let her take you back to her office, to check you for injuries and explain the situation to her boss. You must’ve received at least 50 apologies from the both of them, but you assured them that you were okay.

And... it turns out, not a lot of people can react like you did in a first fight. On top of this, the Avengers were actually looking for a support agent, who stays back at the compound and become that “girl in the chair”.

And guess how all of that coincidence on top of a coincidence turned out.

That simple night out led you inside a gigantic tower that everyone in New York knew about, where the notorious Avengers lived, the Stark Tower.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

-a month later-

You felt emotionally fulfilled, looking out at the sight of the living room. When it was just you, it was always quiet, considering you used to lived on your own. But in a short span of a month, you quickly got used to the noisy mornings, the laughters and banters filling the room.

“Hi, принцесса.” You felt a pair of arms slide under your arms, and a small kiss planted on your bare shoulder. You giggled as Natasha twirled you around, sitting you down on the counter as she kissed you.

“Mm, good morning babe.” You whispered back. And in her strong arms, you felt what the people call love, in this fiery assassin. Natasha couldn’t ask for a better partner to share her deepest secrets with, to follow to the ends of the earth, and protect with all she had.

“Tonyyy, Y/N and Tasha are making out on your coffee beansss.” Clint yelled from his place on the couch, an evil smile on his face as Tony ran into the kitchen.

“Not my Tanzania Peaberry Coffee beans!”

All is good. (?)

(The real Agent got shit-faced and was fired lol)

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atths--twice · 4 years

Text

Soulmates

Soulmate: a person to whom you feel an immediate connection. A connection so strong and powerful, you are drawn to them in a way you will never experience again. They are your perfect other, the missing half of you, and no love will ever compare. No matter the distance, soulmates will find their way back where they belong. ________________________________________

The long believed alien invasion of 2012 never occurred. Since that fated night, Mulder has searched for answers to questions, but has come up empty handed. Scully has been standing by watching brokenheartedly, as his obsession has begun to tear them apart.

A heart can only stretch so far before it shatters and the pieces left behind must be put back together. Sometimes a shattered heart (or two) needs extra care, love, time, and help.

Sometimes it needs guidance from someone who understands grief and pain. Someone who will not give up or back down. Someone who will see a broken heart and not declare it unfixable, but grab the tape, glue, or whatever it takes, to fix it and make it whole again.

________________________________________________________

Okay.... I have posted about this before, but as I’m a bit, just a small bit mind you, more savvy with Tumblr, I am going to post it again. Before I only posted the link to AO3 and not chapter by chapter, as I had no idea how to do that at all. I have figured it out and all I can say is... get ready...

I have recently had the pleasure of meeting two incredibly wonderful and supportive fellow Philes, @prichan7 and @scullybuck, and their encouragement and love for this story has filled me with such a sense of pride and happiness, I am so thankful to have met them. Ladies... your kindness means so much to me, you truly don’t know.

I am going to post the first three chapters today and then one, or sometimes a couple, the next day.. and so on.

This is my baby and the one I am the most proud of... I hope you like it.

Chapter One

The Origin of Maggie Scully

Maggie had been a romantic all her life. When she was younger, around 10, she began to read from the “grown up” section of the library, the young adults area. She was always an advanced reader and devoured books. She discovered Anne, the orphan girl adopted by a brother and sister. She learned new, big descriptive words reading about Anne.

Maggie fell in love with Gilbert, a sweet, romantic, caring boy who was “fathoms deep” in love with Anne upon first meeting. She yearned, despaired, and was elated when Anne and Gilbert were finally joined together in marriage. She read of Anne and Gilbert’s children. Of Rilla, their youngest who was in love with a family friend. He went off to war and her heart was broken. She cried and mourned along with all her beloved characters. When she finished the books, she began again. She became obsessed with the love the characters had for one another.

The words she read were poetry to her young soul. She needed more. The librarian observed how often Maggie was borrowing the same books. On one of her trips to the library, when she was 12, the librarian, a “kindred spirit,” showed Maggie to the literature section. She suggested a few new books she may find interesting and Maggie’s eyes lit up. She borrowed Emm a and Sense and Sensibility.

Oh … being lost in the stories of yearning love, hardships, misunderstandings, broken engagements, and true love realized, made her heart soar. She wished that she could live in her books, to know these characters, to attend balls and dance through the night.

She felt a thrill when she discovered the word ‘soulmate.’ A soulmate. It was a word she fell in love with immediately. She rolled it around and around in her mind. To think that there was someone out there destined for her, her other half, made her stomach do flip flops. She read when true soulmates had found each other, there was an unspoken understanding between them. They would feel unified to have finally found the one they had, wittingly or not, been searching for. They would be together in unity and no other happiness or joy could ever compare. Oh, how those words and thoughts had thrilled her, down to her very soul.

Reality came calling, however, no matter how a person may romanticize the world around her. Her father felt reading, especially books far beyond her age, was a waste of time. He found it “foolish for a girl to be doing, especially the books she was reading. Stories about love and romance filing her head full of frivolous unattainable things. A handsome man racing up on a horse to save her, or dying for one's true love.

Try as she might, there was no reasoning with her father. Her mother was a meek woman and she complied with her husband. Maggie’s trips to the library became obsolete. She was told to focus her attention on other things.

Her parents were devout Catholics and her time for confirmation was approaching. She was to attend the classes and study what her faith would prepare her for in her future- a life devoted to her faith, husband, and a family.

Although she obeyed, she felt that a part of her was gone without the chance to read her books and become lost in their stories. But after her confirmation, she began going to parties and meeting people. New girlfriends to gossip with, share lipsticks (of which none of them were allowed to even possess), even try out smoking, and laugh about which boys they would like to kiss.

She loved the thrill she felt being in a group of boys and girls, seeing if she might feel a spark with of them. She had not given up that she had a soulmate out there somewhere looking for her. There were boys she felt an attraction to, but it was not the same as that deep desire for a soulmate.

Then when Maggie was 20, her mother passed away. She was left with an empty hole in her life. Her father took her mother’s death extremely hard. He began to drink heavily. He was moody and depressed. But at times he was kind and emotional. During those times, he spoke of his love for his wife. How beautiful she had been, how she could light the room with her smile, how much he missed her, how lost he was without her, how he loved her from the moment he saw her, how he wished he told her more.

Maggie sat in shock. Of course she knew her parents loved each other, she was not stupid. But this ... especially from her father, left her speechless. He was tough, quiet, closed off. She had no idea he was capable of feeling that way. How naive she was, how childish in her thinking.

She was an adult, but she was still much like a child, believing love was something a person longs for, pines after, or has to suffer a huge loss to find. She saw and learned of true love, of actual soulmates that day. Not the silly little girl version she had imagined with music sounding and “happily ever after.” This was a love that ran deep and true and real.

She was emboldened by this revelation. She made a firm decision. She would not let her father drink the rest of his life away. Her mother’s memory did not deserve that disrespect. His love for her needed to be stronger than the ease at which he grabbed the bottle for comfort.

It was not an easy task, but she got him to quit. She learned things about herself during this time. Patience, understanding, and extreme empathy. Her grief was raw, but her father’s was devastating. Spending time with each other, expressing their grief, had brought them closer together. She always felt a disconnect from him, as though he did not care for her as her mother had. As they learned from each other, her heart warmed with the discovery that his love was simply quiet. He was proud of her, loved her, and wanted the very best for her. He did not say it with words too often, but his eyes and his smile told her every day.

When Maggie met Bill, she knew right away he was a good man. He was somewhat like her father-quiet, serious, stoic. Under his outward presentation, though, he was sweet, funny, romantic. He was rational and cool headed. He would be a good husband, provider, father.

She loved him, immensely, but it was not until she had Bill Jr. that she realized how much she needed and relied on him.

She was sick throughout her pregnancy, never truly gaining much weight. She could not get the baby to feed very well once they were home. She was not sleeping, had not showered, the house was a mess, and she could not stop crying. She felt like a failure as a wife and a mother.

One day, a knock sounded at the front door. Bill Jr. had just spit up all over her last clean shirt and also managed to soil his last clean diaper. Maggie felt like lying down and giving up. She did not care about the person at the door, she just wanted to sleep, cry, or scream. Maybe even all three.

The knock sounded again and a muffled voice called out, “Mrs. Scully? My name is Evelyn McCreary. Your husband works with my husband. He asked if I could look in on you. He wanted to be sure that you were okay and didn’t want you to be alone.”

Maggie began to cry. From exhaustion, embarrassment, but mostly from the caring her husband showed by asking for help for her. She would never have asked on her own. She was a navy wife now and needed to keep that stiff upper lip. As she cried, she caught a whiff of both herself and the baby. It was not a good combination.

Her pride worn down, she walked to the door. She did not look at her reflection in the mirror by the door. She knew she looked like death warmed over. If this woman was truly here to help, she was going to see how big her job would be.

Opening the door, she found not a young woman, but an older one. White hair set in a fetching style, clothes and makeup perfect. She even had a pair of gloves in one hand and her purse in the other. This woman? She was going to help?

Maggie almost closed the door in her face. Close the door before she ruined the clothes of this poor well meaning woman. She had probably thought that Maggie was simply bored and was looking for someone to gossip with and drink some tea, maybe something stronger. Well, Maggie thought, that sure ain’t the case. She stared at this immaculately dressed stranger with a look of defiance.

The eyes looking back at her were soft and understanding. She took in Maggie’s spit up covered shirt and could smell the baby’s soiled diaper. She smiled kindly at Maggie and put her gloves in her purse with a snap as it closed.

“Well,” she said with a square set to her shoulders. “It looks like we have our work cut out for us. How about you invite me in and we can get started?”

Maggie was completely floored. She expected this woman to be aghast and walk away. When she did neither, she could not do anything but allow her in the house. Evelyn set her purse down on the crowded dining room table and turned to Maggie.

“First things first,” she said with determination in her voice. “You need to get cleaned up and I will take care of this adorable baby.”

“No,” Maggie said with more force than she actually felt. “First things first. You tell me who you are and why exactly you are here.” Evelyn smiled at her, just as kindly as before, and clasped her hands together.

“My husband and your husband have become friends. They have recently worked together and have taken a liking to one another. Your husband mentioned that you had recently had a child. My husband, Philip, had asked how you were doing. Bill was honest with him and said it had been hard. My Philip told me, and I knew I had to come right over. You see, Mrs. Scully,” she said with a brief pause as she took a breath. “I know how hard it can be. How you can feel ... alone and no one understands. I have had six children and I was unprepared for each one of them.” Maggie balked at her. Six children? God. That sounded exhausting.

“My husband and I married young,” she continued. “My mother had passed when I was a girl and I never learned about ... well many aspects of marriage.” She laughed and her cheeks flushed. “When I discovered I was with child, I was terrified. I had no idea what I would do.” She smiled at Maggie kindly and reached out to touch the baby’s foot.

“My husband was wonderful to me the entire time. He was tickled that we would be having a baby. He boasted to everyone how happy he was to be a father. How he loved that I would be giving him that honor. But then the babies came ...” she became quiet for a second, lost in her memories. Maggie shifted uncomfortably, aware once again how terrible she smelled.

Evelyn gave a little shake of her head and then smiled at Maggie. “Mrs. Scully,” she said kindly. “I would love to tell you my story when you have had a chance to clean up a little. I can imagine you don’t feel so wonderful at this moment.”

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears at the kindness in her voice. “I can’t get cleaned up,” Maggie said with a sob. “There is so much laundry to be done, and I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Evelyn reached for the baby, and this time Maggie let her take him. She brought her hands to her face as her tears began to fall faster. Evelyn tucked Bill Jr. into her side and drew Maggie to her with an arm around her shoulder.

“My dear,” Evelyn said softly. “Please lead me to the bedroom and we will get you sorted out.”

Maggie tearfully led Evelyn toward the bedroom. She set the baby down in the bassinet that sat in the room. Evelyn walked into the bathroom and started the shower. When it was a comfortable temperature, she turned to Maggie and told her to take her time and get cleaned up. Maggie sobbed and began to unbutton her shirt. Evelyn walked out and closed the door behind her.

Maggie left all her clothes in a disgusting heap on the floor and stepped into the warm steamy shower. She let the water wash over her and cleanse her body and soul. She was so bone tired and this shower was the best experience she had in days. She stayed under the spray and felt her muscles relax. She cried and cried. Let all her anxiety out in that shower. Felt it wash away down the drain.

She washed her hair and body twice, exhilarated by the feeling of being clean. Erasing the stench of milky baby vomit and soiled diapers. She stayed in the warm cocoon until the water began to cool. Finally she had to turn the water off and return to real life.

A towel had been placed out for her and her disgusting clothes were gone. She had not even noticed Evelyn return to the bathroom. She grabbed the towel and wrapped herself in the fluffiness. God, she felt like a new person. She dried her hair with an extra towel until it was just slightly damp.

Maggie walked into her bedroom and found that Evelyn had put some clothes on the bed for her. A button down shirt of Bill’s was laid out beside a pair of pajama pants. She slipped them on, no underwear available to be worn. She did not care and she doubted Evelyn would either.

Once she was dressed, she walked out to find Evelyn in the dining room. She had cleaned up the clutter on the table and changed the baby. He was laying in the bassinet that she had moved from the bedroom.

She looked up and smiled as Maggie came in the room. She walked toward her and put her arm around her shoulder, leading her to the table. Maggie sat and Evelyn disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with a two cups of tea and set them down.

“Do you take cream and sugar?” Evelyn asked kindly. Maggie shook her head. “I was able to find one last diaper for the baby, but he will be needing more. I placed a call to a friend of mine and she will be dropping off some items for you as soon as she can,” Evelyn said as she sat and drank her tea. “I have also started washing some clothes in your washing machine. Such a wonderful invention. Things took longer in my day. Once those clothes are done, I will hang them for you and start more clothes.”

Maggie was silently crying, looking down at her teacup. She was overwhelmed by everything, but especially by the kindness this woman was showing her. She did not know her, but she was here and she was helping. She had already done so much in the short amount of time she had been here.

She lifted her eyes to Evelyn. She could not talk around the lump in her throat. She shook her head, trying to fight back her tears. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.

“Before you say anything,” Evelyn said softly, setting down her cup and taking Maggie’s hand. “Let me tell you my story. Drink your tea and just listen.”

Maggie took another deep shuddering breath and nodded. She did not know what she was going to say anyway. That she was fine? She clearly was not. She did not need any help? It was obvious that she did. She just needed to say something. Instead she took a sip of tea and waited for Evelyn to speak.

Evelyn placed her hands on the table and folded them together. She told Maggie of her hardships with her babies. How she had been wholly unprepared for caring for them. She did not know anything about children and she felt like a failure every day. She cried more in that time than any other time in her life. When the babies cried, when they spit up, when dinner was burnt, when her husband’s shirts were not ironed, or worse, when they too were burnt.

But through it all, her husband had been there for her. He was always encouraging, always positive. He ate the burnt dinner, smiling through every bite. He hid his scorched shirts beneath jackets, kissing her goodbye and thanking her for seeing that he looked respectable and loved. He was her champion, her cheering squad and she loved him immensely for it.

They moved to a new base when she was pregnant with their fourth child. Two of the children were in school during the day at that time, so she was home with only the youngest child. She was thankful for that because the fourth pregnancy had been her worst. She was sick almost throughout. She could barely eat, she was not sleeping and the housework began to suffer.

There were not scorched shirts anymore, there were simply none ready at all. Dinners were late as they had to wait for her husband to cook them and he worked late shifts. She would cry as she sat holding the youngest one and her husband served the older children soup and toast, grilled cheese, eggs. Whatever was on hand and easy to make. He would make them laugh with silly voices and songs he made up. Then they would help him clean up and head to bed.

He would come to her and wipe her tears. Tell her he loved her, she was the only person he would ever love in this lifetime and the next. He would take the little one and bathe her, put her to bed, and come find Evelyn still on the sofa, crying. He would take her to their room, help her get her night clothes on, and brush her hair. He would sing to her as he did, telling her how beautiful she was. How her hair was like spun gold and it shined brighter than the sun. He would hold her as she cried when they went to bed.

It had been two weeks and this had become their routine, until she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find a dark skinned woman with the biggest smile she had ever seen. She told Evelyn that her husband had run into her, literally, and helped her pick up the items she spilled.

He struck up a conversation with her and found she was looking for work, but no one wanted to hire her. He said that was ridiculous and he hired her on the spot. Said he needed someone to help his wife because he loved her so much and seeing her breaking down the way she was, was breaking his heart. He cried for his wife, cried for her suffering, and asked, begged, for her help.

Her name was Tanzie and she was a godsend. She helped with anything and everything. She washed, cleaned, cooked, ironed, and cared for the children. But most important, she became the friend that Evelyn needed. She cared for her. Cooking bland foods that she could hold down, offered up advice her mama had for pregnancy, remedies that were a wonder for Evelyn.

Tanzie helped her get back to herself and her family. She was the best friend Evelyn ever had. They shared secrets, dreams, and their lives.

“Mrs. Scully, without the love of my husband, and the care of others, I would have crumbled. I would have given up. I am a lot older than Tanzie was when she showed up that day, but I would like to be here to help you as she did for me.” Evelyn said kindly, looking into Maggie’s eyes.

Maggie sat in rapt attention, tears running down her face, through the whole story. Listening to Evelyn’s story of love filled Maggie with hope, with happiness and such immense love. She read of soulmates, saw it through her father’s eyes, knew she found it in Bill, but Evelyn’s story ... it was pure love and devotion.

And now Evelyn sat there, in a dirty house, with clutter and laundry piling up, offering her help because Philip heard about her need from Bill. A loving heart reached out to another loving heart. As a result, without hesitation, Evelyn came to help Maggie. To offer what she could, however she could.

Through her tears, Maggie smiled and nodded. “Please, call me Maggie,” she said as she grasped Evelyn’s hand, reaching out for the lifeline that had been sent to her.

I had posted all of this story here, chapter by chapter, but now… I’m not sure how to find it. So, I am posting the link to it on AO3. Happy reading… with perhaps some tears along the way. 💕

#Soulmates #The X Files #XF Fanfic #From the breakup to their reunion #What happened in the interim?#Sadness #Angst #Separated #Love and Caring #Taking care of each other

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hockeyownsmyass13 · 4 years

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Second Chances/Mat Barzal

Description: As All-Star Weekend drew close you couldn’t help but wonder if Mat would remember you. It was less than a year ago when you two had met in NYC. Now you were on your way towards your dream job as a sports journalist. And with this gig at the NHL’s ASG, the last thing you needed was to be distracted by Mat.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: A few swear words

Author’s Note: I have a lot of Barzy feelings so I hope you guys like it. I have an idea for a part two might include smut if I’m feeling bold so please lmk what you think! Thanks for reading loves ☺️

Flashback

“How does this all work again?” you asked your best friend while putting on your makeup at her Manhattan apartment.

“I’m going to text Isaac when we get there and he’s coming to meet us and take us in. Usually they sit us at a table with a bunch of other girls and bring a bottle or two to start. From there it’s pretty much up to us, we can do whatever we want.”

This whole VIP clubbing experience was completely out of your element. Izzy, your former teammate in college and close friend had become a model since moving to the city. She knew guys like Isaac who were big time club promoters and could hook her up with pretty much anything NYC nightlife had to offer. You just tagged along for the ride.

Since you arrived at the club however you’d been able to relax. All Izzy’s friends were super nice and fun to be around. Between all the drinks and dancing however there was a group of guys who kept catching your eye. Izzy warned you that 1 Oak often had celebs but you weren’t quite sure if you’d seen them before. While the girls were dancing you took a break to rest your feet (heels hurt sometimes) and sat down at the table for another drink. That was when he approached you. You honestly didn’t even remember the first words he said. It was as if your brain had paused for a moment, wondering why a guy this attractive had come up to you.

“Mat” He said. You gave him your name, unsure if you should shake his hand or not. How do people greet at clubs anyways, you thought to yourself.

“Are you from here or just visiting?”

“I live in Boston, well Cambridge technically. I’m in my last year at harvard”

“Damn smart girl I see” Mat said. He seemed like he was flirting but also genuinely impressed at that name drop.

“I got a soccer scholarship, I’m not really that smart” you laughed back. “Izzy lives here, she was my teammate the last 3 years” you gestured towards her and the others dancing.

At first it was a little awkward but quickly you figured out how much you had in common.Talking about favorite foods, music, TV, and of course sports. The last subject was interesting. He seemed so excited at first yet turned around, seeming a little shy to give any details. .

After a little more conversation you followed him back to his table to grab a few more drinks, and that’s when you figured it out. The slight hint of a Canadian accent along with his friends all looking young and very in shape gave it away. This guy was definitely a professional athlete. You guessed hockey but didn’t want him to think you secretly knew who he was so you hid that guess.

“What sport do you play?” A little smirk dancing across your lips.

“How’d you know?”

“Educated guess”

“Hockey, we all play for the Islanders” He looked a little shy, running his fingers through his hair.

Internally you were freaking out just a bit. Growing up near Boston the Bruins were like a religion in your hometown. The NHL playoffs had always been your favorite time for any sport. There was just a level of intensity and excitement that couldn’t be matched. But on the outside you kept your cool...somehow. And after a little more chatting he pulled you over to the dance floor.

Eventually Mat’s friends were ready to head home and so were yours. He lived with an older teammate since it was his rookie season and you were crashing at Izzy’s place, so that small part of you who wanted to go home with him (even though you really don’t leave places with boys you’d never met before) was out of luck.

“I’d ask for your number but my phone died” He said, the cute shyness from when he confessed his job was back.

“Give me yours” you said, handing him your phone. Alcohol was certainly not a negative when it came to confidence.

But the next morning you woke up. And the insecure part of your brain convinced yourself he probably had lots of girls texting him every day and it wasn’t worth the possible embarrassment. Plus it was nearing the end of your trip to NYC and it was almost time to head back to school for senior fall; aka the last season of your college sports career.

So you never texted him, figuring he would forget soon enough and you could save yourself the heartbreak of falling for him just to find out you were only a number on his list. It wasn’t easy. Boys like that didn’t come around often. You looked at his name countless times in your phone, debating on calling. But the longer you waited the more it seemed weird to reach out. Would he ask why it took so long? Would he even remember you?

All star weekend

St. Louis was the perfect place to host. After winning the cup the city was buzzing with excitement over hockey. While you were a little nervous to be at such a big event, this wasn’t your first reporting experience. You’d done tons of interviews with other D1 athletes around campus and even filled in for a week as the rinkside reporter with the Bruins.

When you first entered the locker room on Friday it was impossible not to scan around for him. When Mat wasn’t there you couldn’t decide whether it was a relief or a dissapointment. There wasn’t a lot of time to dwell on things however, interviews needed to get done. It was mostly just fluff, funny questions for some social media content, You were talking to Sid, the usual polite yet unrevealing way of avoiding his private life, when someone entering the room immediately grabbed your attention. Mat had walked in. You could feel your heart start to beat faster. It could be the nervous anticipation of a potential awkward encounter. Thankfully your brain still worked and it quickly brought your attention back to Sid.

“And Conor McDavid comes up short. Mat Barzal is your new NHL All-Star fastest skater” The announcement rang loudly throughout the arena.

Mat won. Mat just won. It kept repeating in your mind like an echo. Because you knew what that meant. You had to interview him. He was laughing with some of the other guys as you watched the producer approach him. Chatting with the cameraman seemed a good option to avoid looking like you were starring in his direction. As he walked towards you his expression was blank.

“Congratulations on winning the first event of day one. How does it feel to know you dethroned a three time winner?”

Silence. Your eyes widened, hoping to provoke an answer.

“Um yeah it’s pretty cool. Conor’s a really fast skater so I feel a little lucky.”

“I know you guys don’t get much time to warm up. Is the crowd a big energizing factor in something like this?”

“Sure” Silence again.

“Uh I mean we’re here because of the fans. So uh yeah we want to do our best and give them a good show”

The rest of the interview went about the same. You were sure the others watching could feel the awkwardness in the air. Although he didn’t show any signs of recognizing you, Mat wasn’t known for being cold towards reporters. Something must have been your fault for the less than stellar interview which thankfully was over.

“Y/N”

It wasn’t a question but more of a statement. You looked down at your feet, even though you’d been looking him in the eyes the whole interview. It was a little late for shyness but the absence of the cameras and knowing he recognized you took away any semblance of confidence you previously had.

“Hey Mat”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Shit. You knew this question was coming but you’d hoped he would at least make some small talk first. Maybe enough to give you a chance to think of an answer. But now he looked just as worried as you, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just….I don’t know, I enjoyed talking to you that night and I just figured you would and then you never did and I couldn’t do anything,,,,” He trailed off getting quieter at the end,

“I’m sorry, You’re not crazy Mat. I had a really great time that night. I’m not sure what to say. I know it’s a stupid excuse but I was leaving to go home to Boston so soon and I just convinced myself you were, ya know, this impressive star athlete and it wouldn’t matter if I never said anything because you would forget which I know isn’t fair since you’re a perfectly nice guy and..”

“Come to dinner tonight.” He cut you off.

“I’m supposed to go out with some of the other guys but a lot of them have family or girlfriends coming too. So you won’t be crashing guys’ night or anything.”

“t’ll be low key don’t worry” He added, sensing your hesitation.

“Okay, I’ll go”

“I have to get back, but text me and I’ll send you the details”

“Sounds great” Biting your lip did not do enough to hide the smile growing on your face. It was a group dinner, but no matter how you looked at it, you were going to dinner with Mat Barzal. Who ever said second chances don’t exist.

#hockey fanfic #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagine #my writing

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mom-dad-im-black · 4 years

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"I promise I'll love you even with my broken heart"

What's love?

It has been the question on 14 years old Soyeon's mind as she watched her friend running in the backyard of the orphanage, the shorter girl following the female figure up close as both of them make their way to the tree house that the tallest among them declared as hers.

They went up the stairs and made themselves comfortable surrounded by memories they had hung on the wood walls, they even used to play darts with the picture of the principal of the orphanage as they talked about the families that had visited them that day

Soyeon listened careful as her dearest friend was on and on about an special Chinese family that caught her attention, seems like a perfect match with a lovely mom, a kind dad and an impatient younger daughter by the name Yuqi.

And as Soyeon kept hearing her friend, she began to confirm to herself that the girl in front of her was the only home she got and needed, for the gummy smiled girl, her friend was everything and wished for it to stay that way.

They knew both of them were already old to be adopted, being teens, complicated their situation, knowing that when they turn 18, the orphanage won't be able to host them anymore, it was the reason why they got a backup plan.

If that day came, they will live together, both of them will work their asses out to have a decent life and the most important of it, they will be together.

When her friend finished her description they did their ritual to end the day, toasting with their red cups with some 7up in them and cheered for better days to come and to keep their friendship no matter what.

Don't take her wrong she was happy that her friend was finally able to have the family she had always wished but on the other side Soyeon felt alone, who was going to be her partner in crime now?

But life is never what a person expected to be and by the second month Soyeon got one of the saddest news she had heard...

her friend got adopted.

After the new spreeded, two more weeks were given to them, as a way of closure but as they said they farewells in their tree house they also made a promise to keep in touch as they raised their traditional 7up red cups and tears fell from their eyes, they hugged each other and silently both of them repeated

"No matter when, no matter how we will find each other"

Soyeon watched her long friend walking outside the orphanage, being welcome by her now parents and sister as they helped her to hop onto the car all this as her eyes were clouded by her tears and her heart felt empty and numb.

For Soyeon life was never easy after that, even though every Friday she received a letter from her friend, after another three years passed the dream of a family faded away when the principal announced her she will have to leave on her next birthday.

She walked out of the orphanage with nothing more than just a suitcase in her hand and a bag hanging from her shoulder, and once again, she was alone.

The orphanage helped her to find a job as a waitress in a Thai restaurant and a small apartment to live in on her own just a block away from her workplace, it wasn't much but for the first time in her life she had something that it was hers, and with her first salary received she bought a necessary cellphone to keep in touch with her friend although sometimes it was difficult.

At the restaurant Soyeon saw Minnie, the owner's daughter with who she began to develop a good friendship too, the girl was younger than her but they had got along since the day they met.

On the other side her childhood friend had won the lottery, her family loved her a lot and offered her the opportunity to travel and also supported her on her dreams to became a dancer.

The last time they talked her friend talked her about a Taiwanese girl she had met on her dancing studio and for some reason Soyeon felt sad as she heard the happy voice on the other line.

After a long year of work Soyeon finally could met up with her friend, she had invited her to a collage party, inviting Minnie along, so Soyeon dress up for the occasion, a ripped jeans, white shirt and a black leather jacket on top as black leather ankle boots completed her outfit.

They arrived to the direction given and found a house full of drunk people on the front yard and loud music reached her ears. Shyly Soyeon and Minnie got inside, Soyeon looking with her eyes to her friend, almost not recognizing her partner in crime which hair was red now.

Both of them looked each other back and forth before the red haired girl ran to Soyeon's direction throwing her arms around her neck and her legs around her waist as the koala bear girl expressed how much she had missed her.

-Soyeon omg I'm so glad that you are here, come you have to meet my friends - an excited redhead welcomed Soyeon as she dragged her by the arm to meet the other people in the room

- I'm glad to see you again too Soojin- was Soyeon unheard answered with a Minnie clinged to her waist.

- here, this is Hui, Yuto, Miyeon and guys where is she?- was the half introduction Soojin did before getting distracted.

-anyways, y'all, this is my best friend Soyeon and she...who is she?- Soojin questioned Soyeon when she saw the silent girl besides her friend.

- she is Minnie, a friend of mine - Soyeon introduce her and they all greeted each other.

After that, they bagan to drink and dance as the music was on point that night, they all even sang most of the songs played, it was until Soyeon felt drop of cold water on her hands that she saw Soojin holding a red cup filled with a some beverage in, to which the short haired girl laughed.

- I cannot believe you remembered- she said holding the cup on her hands

- how could I forget it - she pointed out raising her cup - for our friendship-

-for our friendship- Soyeon repeated and toasted.

- this is definitely not 7up- Soyeon expressed feeling the burning sensation on her throat.

- we are 19! Of course it wouldn't be 7up alone - Soojin explained her winking an eye to Soyeon

They were outside talking when suddenly a pair of arms surrounded Soojin's shoulder along with a cute nickname said

-jin-ah~ why you left me alone- the stranger girl pouted as she looked at Soojin dearly

- I just left for about 10 minutes, don't be dramatic- Soojin said smiling sweetly to the other girl

- I know I know I know, but I missed you - clearly the poor girl was drunk making her even cuter.

And Soyeon got surprised when Soojin touched the other girl's cheek and kissed her lips.

-you are drunk baby - Soojin stated as she looked shyly back at Soyeon.

- she is Shuhua, my girlfriend- the red hair explained.

- I have been wanting to tell you but she got lost and then I kinda forgot- she excused herself, looking with a little shame to Soyeon.

- I was also afraid of your reaction- finally Soojin admitted not hearing a reply from her friend.

Soyeon sensing the insecurity in Soojin's voice just smiled at her

-it's totally fine, don't worry, is she the pretty girl of your dancing class?- Soyeon inquired receiving a nod from Soojin who was now holding a sleepy Shuhua on her shoulder.

- I should probably take her home- Soojin spoke after some silent minutes

-yeah you should, she will totally regret it tomorrow - Soyeon laughed at her joke watching a zombie like Shuhua.

And as Soyeon watched her friend getting into a cab she called her name

- Soojin! It was great to see you again and it's totally fine, really, I like girls too - was all Soyeon confessed just to received a warm hug from a teary Soojin seconds after hearing a lot of "thank yous" from her, who went back to the car promising to call her tomorrow.

And standing outside of a foreign house as a cab faded on the road, Soyeon experienced a broken heart for the first time.

The following moths they hang out almost every weekend, specially after Soyeon got her first car, it was and old red Camaro, it was not fancy at all but it was hers, it became mandatory to went out to ride the streets of Seoul going to hills on the outside of the city and enjoy the view of the busy city below them, a red cup always in their hands and right there on the right side door their names were engraved.

Soyeon remember too those moments shared at her room, how Soojin will always be around singing songs and dancing as the gummy smiled girl wrote lyrics, little did Soojin know they were all about her.

The now blue haired girl might have a girlfriend but that didn't stopped Soyeon to stop her feelings from growing inside her chest although she well known Soojin will never love her like that, it killed her but she preferred having her friendship that nothing at all.

But as we all know things never stay the same and Soyeon found out about it when both of them turned 22, and it showed up as a letter delivered to her house.

Curiosity took over her as she opened the envelope which was on the floor five seconds later, there Soyeon red something she had seen coming but wasn't ready for it.

"Soojin and Shuhua invited you to their wedding"

It was understandable, the girls have been dating for almost 4 years, it was meant to be and Soyeon cried remembering all those moments shared on her car, her room, and a third face always on the background, watching them and enjoying the time spent with them.

So now Soyeon was watching her friend on her wedding dress, walking down the aisle while remaining as beautiful as Soyeon had always seen her, hearing her saying the "I do" she dreamed was for her one day, sharing their first dance together with the song she had wrote for them and as each moment happened before her eyes, it came a moment where it was too much for her to handle.

She walked outside the salon, towards the garden on the back, hugging herself as the cold air hit her body and tears began to form on her eyes.

Soyeon clean the last tear from her cheek as something cold and wet touched her bare shoulder founding a beautiful smile on her side.

- don't tell me we are doing this- she questioned the girl on her right side laughing by the silliness of the situation

- it wouldn't be us if we didn't- the now black short haired girl replied lifting her red cup up

-for our friendship?- Soyeon said in doubt received a light push from the other cup that touched hers

- for our friendship- Soojin confirmed drinking up the liquor in.

Soyeon took that instant to admired Soojin one last time, she had been the love she had dearest the most, but she will let it go to stay with the best friendship she has ever had.

And Soyeon drunk to that receiving a tight and warm hug from a married Soojin, who had tears pouring down on her make up.

Soojin went inside leaving Soyeon alone outside, who had stayed to admired the starts, it was her excuse to ease her mind.

Soyeon was too caught up looking up the sky when she felt something warm around her shoulder.

- you shouldn't be outside without a proper coat, you might catch a cold- a cute voice replied her taking a seat next to her.

-you know, first love always sucks but there is a reason why is called like that- she spoke surprising Soyeon by her straightforward words

- it's because the first love is made to be forgotten, if it was truth love, then it will be called the last love- she continued her explanation ending it with a shy smile.

- I'm...- and Soyeon got interrupted

- you are Soyeon, Soojin's best friend, and I am Yuqi, Soojin's sister- the stranger finally got a name, and as she introduced herself she extended her arm for a handshake.

And as Soyeon touched the other girl's hand her body freezed as she heard Yuqi next statement.

- and your last love -

And Soyeon smiled at the confidence of the girl next to her.

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funny-mlb-screenshots · 5 years

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My Favorite ML Fics (With links and descriptions)

One Thing After Another - Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Back to Us - After a reveal so shocking it rocks the core of Paris itself, the villain Hawk Moth is finally defeated...at a great personal cost to heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. With the city safe, they go their separate ways, returning to the lives they were forced to put on hold since receiving their Miraculous.

Now, seven years later, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is on the rise, studying at the fashion college of her dreams by day, working at her dream internship by afternoon...and occasionally moonlighting as Ladybug by night. This routine is set so firmly in place that, once it's shattered by an old-yet-new enemy, and the reappearances of a cold friend and a hot partner, the whiplash threatens to send Marinette spiraling down into chaos.

As Ladybug, she can do anything...but soon those limits will be tested, whether she is in or out of the costume

Truthful Scars - Adrien Agreste has never been an expert in controlling his emotions. When feelings for his classmate in pigtails begin to arise, he can't stop himself from seeing her any chance he gets—even when wearing a pair of cat ears and a black tail. Although his affections are strong and true, he doesn't exactly know how to deal with them, especially under the watchful eye of his father.

After all, what's a boy to do when he accidentally finds out that the girl he's got a crush on returns his feelings?

[Obsession - Miraculous has unintended side effects. A chance encounter leaves Chat Noir in Marinette's magic hands. Scritch and scratch, this kitty has needs. MariChat.

Glaze - He watched her fade, right before his eyes, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Quiver - Spring in Paris, a time for flowers and love, for fashion and passion. But heated blood can lead to dangerous decisions and Adrien’s about to discover how hard things can be. Hawk Moth is on the horizon. COMPLETE]

Smoulder - Marinette traced her fingers down the smooth lines of the magazine, a blush creeping to her face. It wasn’t just his toned, muscular body that set her aflame, although that was certainly a bonus. It was his eyes. The way his body appeared, languid like a summers day. His body said relax but his eyes said devour. From the pages of the advertisement, Adrien smouldered in a way that he’d never done during any of his other numerous photographs, and yet she was struck with a familiarity that made her skin tingle, made her swallow with sudden and surprising nervousness. She was sure she’d seen that expression somewhere before. A pair of green eyes looking at her like that, with an unknown question in his hungry gaze. She’d seen that smoulder before.

In which Adrien loses a bet and becomes an underwear model, Marinette loses her mind, and the whole fiasco starts a fire which might lead to the pair discovering their identities.

Telltale - It all starts with a simple injury, but slowly Ladybug begins to really see who Chat Noir is, and Adrien begins to see Marinette…

Pick-Up and Chase - After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just desserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans. A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it

Won’t Tell a Soul - Nino accidentally runs head long into the biggest most stressful secret he can imagine, but now that he knows the truth about Marinette he is determined to help her in any way he can.

Serendipitous Fate Adrien is excited to reveal his true identity, while Marinette is terrified. But Master Fu says they can't afford to be distant any longer. Chat Noir and Ladybug are meant to work in tandem both in and out of uniform, their strength stemming from the bond created between them. Yet, teenagers are sometimes better at dancing blind than running with wide open eyes, even with the steps laid out before them.

Steps in the path of an expanding world. Apart, they'll flounder. But together, they might just stand a chance.

Anywhere, I wouldve followed you - Indygodusk "Just because you care for something, doesn't mean you get to keep it."

Lately, Marinette's luck has been failing her. No one's guessed her secret identity yet, but after Hawk Moth escalates his attacks, she decides it's time to finally tell Chat Noir. Unfortunately, it's not that easy. To make things worse, her home life is falling apart, college is looming, and she can't keep a boyfriend. Secretly, Marinette's not sure she even wants to be Ladybug anymore.

Adrien's life isn't faring much better, especially after dark secrets about his mother come to light.

Then the unthinkable happens. Afterwards, both Adrien and Marinette have to make their own luck. In the process, they defeat the bad guy and make their dreams come true (even if those dreams weren't what they thought they'd be).

Sting - When Chat Noir inexplicably disappears, leaving Ladybug bee-hind to face Papillon on her own, a new wielder is chosen to keep the akuma from swarming. Ladybug is adamant she doesn’t want another partner buzzing around and why is this new-bee flirting with her?

Meanwhile, Adrien just wishes Ladybug would stop bugging out and listen to him because his bee puns are fuzz-tastic.

The repercussions of the bee are farther reaching than anyone realised.

The Parts of You - “I just…” Her hands migrated from covering her face to clutching her hair. Her ears matched her suit but her eyes were glowing with — what was that? Love? Admiration? His chest tightened. “I can’t talk to him! I always get tongue-tied, or say something stupid, or trip over my own feet. It’s so embarrassing! I mean, I’ve gotten better since we first met, like, we’re actually kind of friends now, but it’s kind of a big leap to go from ‘I can sort of string more than two words together in front of you,’ to ‘Please date me, I love you,’ you know?” His breath hitched at the word “love,” but Ladybug didn’t seem to notice. “Plus, it’s not like we’re super-close or anything. I mean,” she tittered nervously, “we’ve known each other for years, but it’s not like talking to you.”

If words could have killed him he would have been in his grave.

In which Identity Shenanigans™ make everyone's life way harder than it has to be.

Breeze - Marinette sobbed into her hands as she recalled Chloé’s hurtful words, each and every one of them.

“You’re nothing! You’re not even worth yourself, much less your so-called friends! Don’t you see they just hang out with you because they pity you?! You’re worth the dirt under my feet, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And you have no right to speak to me like that, you pathetic little brat. You don’t even have the right to speak to anyone! Just keep your stupid thoughts and ideas to yourself because nobody wants to hear them!”

After a big fight with Chloé, Marinette finds herself sobbing on her bed. The words hit her deep down. And before she knows it a dark Akuma comes fluttering in, ready to introduce her to Hawkmoth…

Technical Difficulties - “Man,” Nino groans, accepting defeat at last, as he gives the golden elevator doors a vicious, vengeful kick. Just like that, he remembers his present company.

Nino turns chagrined eyes to Ladybug.

“Er. Sorry… Probably shouldn’t take it out on the doors?”

Ladybug doesn’t seem to hear him. She is staring hard at the security camera located in the corner. He’s never seen her so quiet… not that he’s seen much of her, that is. Definitely not this close.

Damn, he can’t help but think. What Adrien wouldn’t give to be here right now.

“I’m sure they’ll fix it soon,” Nino offers tentatively, because it seems like something Adrien might say. Or Ladybug, probably, if she weren’t so distracted.

“They will,” she acknowledges, but her eyes are still pretty far away. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“What?“

Ladybug straightens. She makes a decision; it does really pretty things to her eyes, so Nino doesn’t hear her at first, when she asks him for his hat.

— In which Ladybug gets trapped in an elevator with... Nino. { LoveSquare, brotp!MariNino, all-around-friendship!fic } Prompt:Trapped in an Elevator.

Curiosity and Satisfaction - When Adrien agreed to this line of work, he thought all his focus would be on the job of catching the elusive Lady Luck. It never crossed his mind that someone else would catch his attention.

Turn Loose the Mermaids - Marinette should have dragged him under the water in and feast on his body when she had the chance. Maybe then she wouldn't have been his prisoner. Blasted pirate.

That awkward moment when… - “Marinette wasn’t an idiot. As many precautions as she insisted they take, she knew she and Chat Noir were both going to find out sooner or later. Of course, Marinette assumed that the way they’d found out wasn’t by running right smack into each other and detransforming in front of the other. So of course, in a typical calm and rational manner, they pointed to each other and screamed.”

Because, nine times out of ten, letting the cat out of the bag just ends up being very, very awkward.

Tandem - Two students get carried away in a friendly game of dodge ball.... and two other students get very suspicious

Best Frenemies - Marinette Dupain-Cheng leads a double life. It’s often difficult, but it’s the only way to protect the people she cares about. But when her rival, Chloé Bourgeois, discovers her most closely guarded secret, she finds the two separate aspects of her identity blending together… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It can be nice sharing the journey with someone even if it's the last person she ever expected to trust with her secrets.

Chloé Bourgeois leads a double life. It’s often difficult, but it’s the only way to protect the people she cares about. But when her rival, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, discovers her most closely guarded secret, she finds the two separate aspects of her identity blending together… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It can be nice sharing the journey with someone even if it's the last person she ever expected to trust with her secrets.

The Date - They had a simple deal: one date. Chat had one date to sweep Ladybug off her feet. If she still didn’t like him in that way at the end of the day, he’d give up his attempts altogether. Ladybug took the deal, knowing that her heart belonged to another.

But we know them too well.

Wherever I Go - Marinette accidentally gives her class the impression that she has a crush on Chat Noir.

Adrien decides it's time to get over Ladybug.

Ne Me Quitte Pas - “This is my umbrella,” Adrien told him, as though he didn't quite believe it and the words would bring some sense to it.

“Even I could have told you that,” the kwami said with a shrug, his focus returning to his meal.

“Why did she keep my umbrella?” he asked, only half-directing the question at Plagg.

The kwami, however, chose to answer anyway. “Well, she is your friend, isn't she?” he asked as he finally gave in and stuffed the cheese in his mouth. He swallowed, closing his eyes in satisfaction. “What's so weird about it?”

Bring Me Home - Everybody deals differently with the consequences of Hawkmoth's defeat.

The day after, Ladybug eagerly awaits her silly kitty, finally ready to hand him her heart and start a new chapter of their story with him. He never shows up.

The day after, Adrien Agreste shuts the whole world out, ashamed of his father's action, while Marinette grows more and more exhausted and depressed as the years go by.

Five years later, can anything really be salvaged out of the remnants of their relationship?

Kitten Therapy - After scoring the highest points in a stress level test at school Marinette and Adrien have to take 'recreational hours' in order to prevent being akumatized. It seems like a long awaited break for them until Ayla hacks into CCTV and discovers …?

Mostly fluff. Especially the kittens.

Eperdument - All the pieces are starting to fit together, as much as Marinette doesn't want them to fit. As much as she desperately fights against seeing the signs, sometimes the cat refuses to stay in the bag.

And sometimes the cat kwami refuses to stay out of her lunch bag.

I Didn’t Want it to be Like This - There was always the possibility that someone would find out. Marinette, Paris’s very own Ladybug, knew that it was a high chance. Eventually someone was going to put two and two together.

The Most Eloquent Reply - Deaf Marinette

MDR - Marinette liked not knowing much about her online friends. With the arrival of a newcomer to their group chat, they suddenly start to believe that she has a crush on herself, no matter how obvious she tries to make it that she likes someone else. AU.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml #miraculous #fanfic #fanfiction

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bubblyani · 5 years

Text

Treasure You (Pt. 2)

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

Part Two Of Lucifer Morningstar Two Shot

Rating : Mature

Author’s Note: So happy of how this part came about. Every moment I spent writing this was precious. Filled with right amount of Angst, Fluff and Smut, hope y’all enjoy this! 😈❤️

Part 1 HERE

With your legs shaking frantically, You were suddenly aware of the flesh covered frame that was your body even more. Staring at the sky through the glass window, you clearly felt alone enough to reminisce all that happened out loud. The sting that his stubble left on the soft skin of your neck, every inch of your thighs that received his touch were evident souvenirs. Souvenirs of the impossible and unexpected.

A little part of you longed to jump up and down, squeal in glee. But you wholeheartedly didn’t want to. Because it didn’t feel right.

Your logical reasoning made you question yourself: What are you really doing?

Putting your legs down, you sat right up. Exactly, why were you wasting your time sitting up here all alone, whilst the life of the party was downstairs. The ‘Life’ that was wrapped around your body a few minutes ago, to be exact.

Smoothing your hair, straightening your dress, reapplying your lipstick, your heels clicked as you rushed to the elevator.

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

The elevator doors opened with their usual ding, revealing the amorous spectacle that was LUX. Only that your ears didn’t drown in loud music, but with just one voice commanding the room instead.

You froze. It was his voice.

“…and it is my great pleasure to have you all here tonight. Though I’ll be more than pleased to have you all here ever night...”

Laughter erupted from the crowd as Lucifer’s velvet voice continued to fill in, his humor amplified through the microphone.

Stepping out of the elevator, you saw him standing a few feet away to your right. As he raised his glass, Lucifer grinned to his fullest.

“Cheers...”

“CHEERS!” The crowd replied with glee, and with his signal, the music made its entrance, joyous cries were met, and the party began.

You realized how even the simplest words sounded undeniably pleasing in his voice. Like how you realize it over and over again.

You watched him glide down the stairs , walking into the crowds with ease, with confidence. Dozens of glasses clicked to satisfaction, while dozen pair of eyes were blessed with his flashing smile. Surely the loins of all occupants would catch on fire, and he would be to blame. Chuckling, you had to admit, you were always impressed by his charm.

Spinning around, Lucifer’s eyes suddenly caught your own, and you were surprised when he froze in response. His joyous expression had vanished, replaced with a serious one instead. Your heart grew heavy to see him look so vulnerable, as if he just let his guard down. This was not what you wanted from him. Turning away, you descended down the stairs in a flash, hoping to relieve him.

Should I just go?

Settling on an empty corner of a couch, you took in a deep breath, wondering why you thought that, and whether you should really act on it. Looking up, you longed to be distracted by the music that moved the bodies in hypnosis. Tapping your feet, you drank in how each frame moved in its own groove. It made you smile for a minute. For it was not so long before when you found yourself dancing here for the first time ever. You remembered oh so clearly.

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

(A few months ago, LUX)

The wait outside was so worth it, for you were clearly having a great time at LUX. Upon your friend’s insistence, you may have stepped out the apartment with hesitation but you didn’t regret it one bit. Drowning in your own screams of happiness , flashing lights had nothing on you as a brighter smile flashed across your face while your limbs moved to the rhythm. You didn’t deny that more people stepped into the dance floor once you warmed it up a bit. When you danced, you danced your worries away. The fire you had in you was not containable. And you could do nothing but cause Forrest fires wherever you extended your arms or swayed your hips.

“Oh my god...”

“It’s him...it’s him”

“He’s so hot”

The sudden shrill of your friends voices irritated you whilst your body rolled.

“Guys…” you panted, turning to face them “What the hell-“

You fell silent, upon seeing the figure that stood before you.

If Tall, Dark and Handsome had an official visual description, he would be the clear winner.

“I’m afraid you’re making us all look bad” He said,with his evident British accent.

“Huh?” Genuine concern filled your face. But he merely smiled in return. Your friend was right. He was hot.

“My dancers…” he said, pointing at the women on the boxes, “...you’re making them look bad. Are you trying to steal their jobs?” He asked teasingly, his smile never leaving.

“Oh haha…” you laughed, covering your mouth “ that…I mean this…hehe” you looked down embarrassingly, “I thought you were being serious for a moment there…”

“Well I am…” the man replied, making you look back at him with raised eyebrows “I couldn’t help but be fascinated by what I just saw earlier ...you’re...quite the gifted dancer, filled with the vigor I truly admire in you humans”

You chuckled, “You humans ? What are you? An alien?”

“Oh the Devil in fact...” he grinned widely.

Shaking your head, you said, “Well...the best moves are not for...everyone”

“Oh my…” you heard the sensuality in his curious tone, “... only the exclusive ones then?”

With hands on your waist, you took one more step, until you were merely inches away from his beautiful face.

“Just the one…” you purred, “...whoever is lucky”

“Ooooh...” he purred back, not holding anything back.

You swore his lips never looked so clear as it grew closer to yours.

Until you suddenly giggled.

“Ahahah…Was I doing it right?” You chuckled. Forcing him to furrow his eyebrows with confusion.

“Doing what?”

“Flirting...” you laughed, “...I’m really sorry...I’m normally not so good at it”

Realizing the situation, he laughed along with you.

“Well I find that hard to believe...” he said, extending his hand, “...Lucifer Morningstar”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” You said, holding his hand with no hesitation, “Very...very nice to meet you”

Suddenly you felt like your body and soul was a magnet, for you could not help but be drawn to him. But you knew it was clearly lust sneak attacking you.

“Please...Allow me to get the next round ladies” Lucifer hailed the bartender, inciting cries of from your friends.

“Oh Wow…”

“Thank you Lucifer”

Smiling with soft eyes, you were definitely pleased with the result. And suddenly it was not lust that kept you company.

The DJ managed to get your attention out of the blue.

“Oh man…” you closed your eyes, “I loove this song!”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you spun around, tip toeing over to the dance floor once more. All your friends however, flocked around Lucifer like bees to honey. Their eyes were filled with desire that he wasn’t a stranger to. Therefore, your warm joyous ones proved to be more interesting.

It was only later that night on the way home, one of your drunk yet envious friends accidentally remarked how Lucifer Morningstar turned out to be worse than expected.

“What? How is it possible? I find that hard to believe...”

“Yeah, I bet it’s hard when you’re too busy dancing to even notice”

“What could he have possibly done? Did he grope someone?” You asked mockingly.

“Pft...he barely even paid any attention to any of us...”

“Well he’s a club owner...if he was looking at his phone ...maybe he was working probably...I don’t know”you said, taking a sip of your beer.

“Yeah...working his eyes on you...”

“Wha?...”your eyes widened, “Really?...” which came out softer than expected. Where did all the alcohol go? As you felt suddenly sober. Your friend nodded, snatching your bottle away while the other hailed a cab.

Shaking your head frantically, you rubbed your eyes.

Nope, that’s not possible.

Your curiosity didn’t stop you from stopping by the club again one night. Only it wasn’t the same.

“Ah...Ms. Y/L/N! You’re back!”

Lucifer Morningstar welcomed you with literal open arms the moment you stepped inside.

“Yeah...had quite a tiring day at work so...why not blow off some steam!” You smirked, as he guided you to the bar “although something strange did happen earlier...”

“Oh? ...do tell” he said with curiosity, ordering drinks while you sat.

“Donald from outside...he immediately recognized me. Didn’t even let me wait on queue...” you chuckled, nodding to thank the bartender once you received your drink, suddenly making you pause. “As if ...someone...remembered” you slowed down, realization rich in your voice as you looked at Lucifer’s proud face. With a low chuckle, he winked, making you catch your breath for a second.

“Well I couldn’t really forget a beautiful face...or...your face to be exact”

“Hah...smooth move!”!

“Well you can’t blame me for trying...” he said, raising his glass.

“To a new friendship” he said.

You raised yours along with him.

“To Ms. Y/L/N!” He added. You shook your head.

“Y/N...please” you corrected, longing to hear him call out your name. Looking into your warm eyes, he toasted as the glasses clinked.

“Y/N...”

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

(Present)

“Y/N!”

You were awakened from your short reminiscence as you heard Maze’s voice next to you. The beautiful young woman stood there, shoving a glass of whiskey in your hand.

“You look like you could use a drink” she said coolly.

“Thanks… I guess” you said, accepting it. With a slight nod, she left your sight.

No matter what she thought of you, you always adored Maze. You admired her ferocity and strength, and you certainly thought her to be beautiful.

Watching the ice cubes swim in the whiskey glass, you sighed heavily. You wanted to drink so badly.You wished to take in sips, with each sip helping you to wash away every single shitty feeling. But at the same time, you didn’t feel like it.

Everything felt so contradictory. It all felt uneasy, unanswered. You didn’t know what to do.

Before you worry yourself to exhaustion, you took a huge gulp.

Seeing Lucifer amongst those lucky women, seeing him play his flirtatious charm, seeing those innocent yet lust inducing touches here and there, left you a burn in your heart which did not seem so different from the burn you felt down your throat from that sip of whiskey.

Those burns revealed nothing but jealousy. You wished you were as carefree and adventurous as they were, for if you were you would certainly be there amongst them, happy and entranced.

But instead, there you were. Sitting on the corner, confused and envious, longing for him like an addict in withdrawal. Wishing he’d look your way with a smile instead of uncertainty.

What have you done?

Did you officially lose that close relationship you managed to build with this man?

Ever since your acquaintance, it did not take long for the both of you to form a special friendship. One where you two would unknowingly end up sharing countless nights sharing his stories and adventures with Detective Decker over glasses of whiskey or cups of tea at his penthouse. He would lean more towards the whiskey while you’d insist he cut down for the sake of his health.

“Bloody Hell! What are you ? My mother?” He’d laugh.

“If being concerned makes me your mother...so be it!” You’d say, as you involuntarily pinch his cheek.

“Ooops...” you’d say, “ that’s the whiskey in my tea acting out” giggling, you’d fall off your chair, erupting more laughter from him.

You chuckled, never tired of that wonderful memory. But that chuckle suddenly faded for it was merely just a memory now.

Should I just go?

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

Hours passed, and yet the party spirit continued to conquer the night. LUX was never a disappointment.

While the others indulged in a constant high, you were definitely stewing in an all time low. Your mind filled with a dozen questions.

Were you wrong to act out? To step out of the line?

Will awkward silences and nervous glances forever replace the warm greetings and passionate conversations? You dreaded it.

And just like that, another nightmare was just added to your list.

Should I just go?

Yes, maybe you should, You thought. Unmoved from your seat the whole evening, you certainly did feel like a complete fool that night.

Getting up in an instant, you walked towards the stairs with a heavy heart. If you leave now, you could at least cry yourself to sleep alone. Yes there will be tears, but at least it’ll help you sleep faster.

Just the thought of it made your nose itch, you wanted to disappear into thin air.

But you suddenly felt a strong grip on your wrist, pulling you back. Automatically turning, you found it was Lucifer standing next to you.

“Lucifer!” You exclaimed. His eyes remained serious and his grip remained tight. Was he watching you all this time?

But before you could speak further, you felt him drag you back from the stairs. Walking through the intoxicated crowds, you followed him with complete confusion.

“Uh...” you began, “Lucifer ...what’s going on?”

Every woman you passed shot nothing but looks of intense jealousy. Surprising how Lucifer Morningstar brought out the sin in everyone. He did not take you to the bar, nor to the dance floor, not even to the piano. Instead you climbed upstairs with him, only to face the elevator doors opening up before the both of you.

“Seriously...” you murmured with concern, as you both entered, “you’re making me worried now Lucifer...”

His gaze on you intensified as seconds went by, and the moment those doors closed, you felt your wrist being set free.

Allowing Lucifer to cup your face, capturing your lips with his instead.

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

Sweet reminiscence bounced back to you as your lips made its entrancing journey with Lucifer’s own once again. His kisses had literal addiction written on them, intoxicating you more and more. Everything you could be, you became. You melted, you were intoxicated, you were liberated.

Seemed like you felt like a fool for clearly nothing.

With the elevator doors opening to his penthouse, Lucifer slowly guided you inside, lips still glued to yours with devotion.

The way he held you, safety was the only word you could describe it.

You felt him lowering himself slightly, just so that he could lift you up with ease, wrapping your legs around him. Lost in his lips, you hadn’t the slightest clue of your location until he finally broke away, setting you on top of the bar table.

Perched on the table with your legs spread wide, you sat there, with a face so flushed, and lips gratefully swollen. Heavy pants filled the background as he looked up at your state. For a second you felt like a part of divinity, for his gaze was filled with faith. Finally getting some strength in, you pushed yourself off the table, lightly landing on your tipped toes to find yourself standing in front of him. You found it adorable how he mildly reacted to your landing, making sure you’re alright. Hands infected with life, your slowly extended them out. Fingertips impatiently rested on his chest, grazing, moving further out till you were successfully able to push the jacket off his torso.

Lucifer Morningstar need not strip to arouse you, for his simple yet sophisticated white shirt covering his Adonis like frame sufficed more than ever. Grabbing you by the waist, his lips engulfed yours, inciting a gasp from you. This time his lips took their sweet time, as if he had all the time in the world. They even went far as to slowly allow his tongue take part, letting it beg its way into your own. You moaned as they entwined, deepening the kiss, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck to bring yourself closer. He may be savoring but he certainly did not waste his time either, for Lucifer’s hands found its way around the zipper of your dress, gently unzipping it down. You suddenly shivered by the contact of his fingers on your now-exposed back, making him break away with a concerned look.

“You okay?” He asked breathlessly. The softness in his voice was filled with intimacy that you had not experienced before. And you must admit it quite suited him as well. Flames birthed in you with such strength you did not need to reply with words. Pulling him back, you kissed him with enough passion to assure him you were more than okay.

The passion was transferable, and doubling in Lucifer, the only way he could respond was surprising. Growling into your lips, you winced as you heard him tear the ends of your dress, letting it fall to the floor.

You didn’t hesitate quickly unhooking your balconette bra, tossing it aside quickly before pressing yourself against him even further.

Lips breaking away, Lucifer made his surprising discovery. No explanations required, he witnessed a little fantasy that had been dwelling inside you. Running your fingers over his shirt, you savored the material gingerly, whilst moving against his chest, allowing your bare breasts to be a part of the pleasure as your nipples hardened by the graze of the white shirt and the sculpted body beneath it.

Lips parted, Lucifer had quite a hard time watching only you participating in the pleasure, especially when your lips rested on his Adam’s apple, placing feathery kisses all over it.

“Oh Y/N...” he breathed pleadingly, which seemed quite surprising. Before you could make a snarky remark, he shushed you with his kisses, swiftly lifting you up to carry you in his arms bridal style until ending up at his bedroom.

You felt your body bounce the moment it hit the bed, breaking you away from Lucifer whilst he stood before you. Slipping off your shoes , you quickly got up to see him unbuttoning his shirt in a rush that you have not seen. And for some odd reason, you felt the urge to help him out, bending down to untie his shoe laces.

Loud chuckles from Lucifer alerted you of his surprise.

“Y/N-“

“You’re welcome...” you said as you looked up with a smug expression.

And your good deed did not end up unappreciated, for you stood up to see him peeling off his shirt.

“You know...” you said, unbuckling his pants “...having an elevator open into your penthouse is real fancy and shit but... it’s quite the privacy killer sometimes, don’t you think?” You breathed into his cheek.

“Well... given the previous experiences I will not disagree with you” he replied, nose brushing against yours. You giggled.

“But...” he said, with the firm grip of your arm, “...make no mistake, this will not be interrupted by anyone. Even if anyone comes through that door, I won’t...even ...notice”

His piercing gaze alongside his seriousness in those words certainly left you with more arousal. Not to mention when he successfully managed to strip down completely.

Truthfully you have seen him in his bare but confident glory before. But every time you did, you were polite and decent about it. You’d look away or tighten your temples with a firm sense to understand that it was merely a piece of anatomy and nothing more. But tonight, seeing the man you secretly and unknowingly harbored feelings for fully stripped down, certainly pressed some buttons of your own.

Backing away, you climbed on to the bed, moving back as he followed suit, his eyes fixated on you. He was the lion and you were the lamb. Except the lamb was impatient to be the prey.

Standing on your knees, you welcomed the lion’s pounce as Lucifer kissed you once again, holding you firmly by the waist. Your palms wandered frantically over his torso, filling you with greed for him. For he was simply and most definitely, irresistible.

The moment his hands left your waist, you broke away with a soft moan as they dug into your panties, cupping the bare flesh of your buttocks tightly.

Panting, you held his face, inhaling deeply wearing a pair of serious eyes.

“I’m not-“ you paused ,”I’m not like other women you’ve been with...” you said, shrugging your shoulders shyly “...clearly you can see I’m not...beautiful that way...”

Lucifer shot you a look of immense shock. As if you were blabbering words of insanity. Pressing your lips,You blushed with embarrassment.

“It’s tru-“

His hungry kisses kept you from finishing that sentence, pushing you back to the bed as a result. Taking your hands, he securely placed them on his neck. Instead of using comforting or contradicting words, he opposed your statement and clear insecurity with his lips. Given the man he was, you were pretty sure the women were the ones to throw themselves at him at a time like this. Therefore you were obviously surprised when you felt those hungry kisses wandered all over your body. His kisses lit small sparks of fire on you, and he was the devout and enthusiastic carrier of the flame. The kisses were even and generous, each one curiously moving from your jawline to your collarbone, to the curves and the buds of your heaving breasts, to your protruding hips. Your vocal responses were forthright, moans growing loud and free, impatient to show your appreciation. And those fires felt even hotter when you swore you felt his noticeable erection press against your thigh.

As if sharing telepathy, Lucifer came to your dire need, pulling your panties down in an instant. The region between your thighs was of abundant wetness, exposed to the open air for a few seconds. But it was clearly not when you were left with a loud gasp as he quickly inserted himself in you.

Eyes lost in each other, bodies wrapped around one another, you held on to his ethereally yet sinfully beautiful face. You held with heart, while Lucifer Morningstar began to move inside you, while he set off to discover new found passions for you, while he finally proceeded to make amorous love to you.

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

Your eyes fluttered, like the wings of a butterfly as you woke up to the soft melody created by piano keys. It soothed you. It made you smile. It relieved you to know, that he was nearby. Lucifer was nearby.

The rays of the morning sun filtered through the glass window, falling on your naked back as you slowly sat up. The way the keys were tickled the music encouraged you to drag yourself out of empty bed, put on the white shirt that was laying on the floor, to tip toe your way out to see Lucifer playing the piano.

You dared not interrupt, but merely stood there to listen in silence. Lively would be his usual mood, but this morning his fingers spoke nothing but gentleness with heart. You watched him with pride, you listened to him with The moment the last note was hit, he turned back to you.

“Sorry if I woke you...”

You shook your head, “Don’t…It was the best alarm ever” you said with a smile. He smiled back shyly.

“I couldn’t help it…”

“And that’s great cause you know how much I love to watch you play...” you said, with your hands clasped together and much enthusiasm , “I make the most noise when you hit those keys with passion...ah!”

Realizing the possible dirty imagery that could be behind it, along with his naughty expression borne as a result, you snorted with laughter, covering your mouth. Tempted by the sight of him patting his lap as an invitation, You walked towards him. Wearing just his boxers, he wrapped one arm around you as you sat down.

His eyes widened with surprise after you swooped in to give a tender but long peck on his cheek.

Humming softly, Lucifer moved towards your lips, surprised even more when you placed your fingers to stop him.

“...my morning breath...” you murmured, wearing a nervous smile, “it must be horrible...” you hated that you suddenly felt so conscious of the smallest things. Saving you the train of thoughts, Lucifer held you by the chin, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. With his tongue embracing your own in a hurry, he proved you wrong once again.

“Oh...” he sighed, forehead pressed against yours, “ I should stop before I carry you back to bed again”

“Oh wow...” you chuckled shyly.

“This ...”he said, thumb grazing over your lips, looking at you, “...this was long long overdue”

“It was...” you said, breathless by his touch.

Lucifer paused for a few seconds, “Earlier you asked me, why I let you stick around”

You nodded in acknowledgment. Holding your hand tightly, he inhaled deep.

“It’s because I consider you as my equal”

This was definitely not what you expected. Putting your other hand over his, you listened.

“The respect you showed me was genuine. I felt respected” he said, “Not that I ever needed anyone’s approval but, as a club owner, as a businessman, with my adventurous habits, you didn’t take your time to judge, nor were you hungry to gain something from me in return”.

He said, a warm smile growing in his face.

“You were sincere. You are sincere. It...” he paused, “...comforted me”

“Lucifer...” you said, your tone laced with softness. For you could not believe what you just heard, “Of course I respect you” you continued, “ You’re my dearest friend” you said, pinching his stubble cheek.

“I just never thought you’d have feelings further than that...” you said with a smile, to which he chuckled deeply.

“Oh believe me...” he began, “...it was quite the difficult task to wipe your image out of my head, regardless of all the women” he said, “I mean...with them It was always enjoyable to be fair...”

You scoffed whilst nodding.

“ I bet it was…” you continued, “...some of those women are just breathtaking…”

“Yes...” he added, “...but…I’d always have a moment, wondering how it would have been if was you instead. You in my arms, all to myself” his voice suddenly hinted lust.

“Good...” you replied, “I’m glad I have that effect” you said, running your own fingers over his lips.

“It was strange indeed...” Lucifer remarked, his tone quickly changing to curiosity, “We had endless nights of spending time together, yet not once did I see you look at me with the carnal fascination and desire you showed last night”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Well what can I say...” you shrugged with a proud smile , “I’m very good at friend-zoning people. Until last night, that is “ you said, biting your lower lip.

“Oh Y/N…last night, for a minute it felt like it was a dream...” he said, “ ...like it was an illusion or something temporary that I couldn’t get my grasp on-“

“But I’m here. I’m still here” you assured him, “It happened for real. This is real” you held his face adoringly, taking a deep breath for you needed some courage as you continued:

“I’m in love with you Lucifer”

“Don’t...”

He said, quickly holding your hands. You were confused, especially when he kissed them with desperation.

“I don’t want you to regret those words...” he said with a solemn expression. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would I regret them?” You scoffed with surprise, “Last night…i regretted nothing”

“There’s...” he hesitated, “...something you need to know…about who I am”

“Whats there to know?...you’re ‘Lucifer’ Morningstar...of course I know” you suddenly began talking in high speed, as if he were to disappear any moment, “What? Did you do something? Are you a criminal ? Cause guess what? I don’t care...I love you anyways” you stopped, realizing how desperate you were yourself.

Lucifer smiled with a hint of sadness.

“ No, I’m not a criminal...I’m far worse. I’m the devil”

“Of course I know that” you said, “You’ve told me many times”

“No...but I really am”

“What do you mean? I-“

Your eyes widened as that red glint in his eyes from earlier, reappeared once again. And suddenly the red was not only in his eyes anymore. Yet your hold on him did not loosen.

Speak of the devil.

____________________________________________

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.

Check my LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

#tom ellis #lucifer #lucifer imagines #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #treasure you #part

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msjr0119 · 5 years

Text

Forgive me

A mini series, includes suicide and abuse.

Based on true events but using TRR characters who are owned by Pixelberry.

Using usual tags let me know if you want to be removed...

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012

****

Liam Rhys the Crown prince of Cordonia, had hesitantly agreed to his friends plans about visiting New York for his bachelor party. His brother, the former Crown Prince had recently moved to New York but Liam hadn’t kept in touch with him. They were close as children, but since his abdication they became more like strangers. Leo returned to Cordonia as and when he liked. Walking around the city, Liam thought about his brother; wondering what he was doing, wondering if he was married, had kids, had a job. Wondering if he was happy living the life he could do. If his paths crossed with his older brother he could quite easily throttle the playboy who thought more about his dick than his royal responsibilities.

Drake Walker had chosen quite possibly the most run down dive bar he could find to start the nights events off.

“Welcome to the states, your highness. Nothing beats alcohol and greasy food...”

Liam sighed, he didn’t even want to be here- he didn’t even want to be the Prince anymore. Walking through the doors, this really was a dive bar- it was empty and quiet. The bar stools looked as if they would potentially snap if you lent on it, covered in dust.

“Where’s the music?” Exclaimed Max feeling disappointed- he loved music and to dance. This place felt like they were in a morgue.

“Forget the music! Waiter!” Drake clicked his fingers. The waiter ambled up towards the men forcing a fake smile.

“Yes Sir. What can I get ya?” Daniel asked politely, whilst checking his watch. Hoping they wouldn’t be indecisive regarding their order.

“Four deluxe burgers and a bottle of whiskey.”

“Yes sir, my colleague will bring your drinks shortly as I have finished my shift.”

*****

The men looked over at the waiting staff, the waiter that had taken their original order was just leaving- he kissed a girl on the cheek before he left. The four men’s eyes all fixated on the beautiful goddess stood in front of them.

Turning around with a bottle of whiskey and four tumbles- Riley locked eyes with the four men. No it can’t be. Gulping, as if she had seen a ghost- she failed to realise that the items had slipped out of her hands. Her feet covered in a whiskey residue.

“So what’s your family and closest friends like? Will I ever meet them?”

“I’d rather you not meet them. They are a bunch of misfits. A bunch of hypocrites too apart from Li my kid brother. He’s the kindest man alive and will be the perfect king for our country. He’s loyal too. He has these sparkly baby blues that will swoon anyone.”

“So do you. Although you’re a flirt. I don’t think he’s like that is he?”

“Deep down I think he probably is. But he is an expert using his stoic expressions. If you ever met him you’ll understand. You’d probably fall in love with him too.” Riley laughed, she does fall in love easily but she wasn’t ready to commit to anyone in this situation.

“What about your friends then? I’ve heard about all your family now.”

“Well there’s Liam’s best friend, Drake Walker. He’s a miserable bastard- always sulking, whiskey in hand, he’s handsome don’t get me wrong. But he’s not the type admit feelings. He’s had a tough life.”

“Miserable bastard- I think you’re overreacting?”

“No I’m not. He will stand in the corner of the room at events people watching. I just think he needs to let his hair down and get laid. Then there’s Lord Maxwell...”

“A snooty Lord?”

“No, he’s quite the opposite. He’s a kid at heart- hyper at times. He’s cute in a way. Puppy dog eyes all the time- he’s the spare heir and constantly gets criticised but honestly Ri, he is the most kind hearted person I know. He’s friendly and outgoing - everyone instantly loves him. Then there’s Tariq...”

“Is he a snooty Lord? Come on, there’s got to be some snob in your friend ship group.”

“Oh yes! He’s a snob all right. I avoided him at all costs. You’d recognise him walking down the street- he pays an extortionate price for clothes and shoes. He’s worse than women. He will only order expensive food and wine.”

******

“Riley! Clean it up now!” Her manager snapped at her- making her jump and come out of her trance.

The men heard the glass smash and immediately stared at the waitress who looked shocked. Liam stood up, walking towards her- he bent down and helped her pick up the glass.

“Are you okay... miss?”

“Er, Riley. I’ll get you guys another bottle of whiskey. I’ll pay- it’s on the house.”

“No need. I can afford to buy them both.” Of course you can- shit it really is them. Tears began to form in her eyes, returning to the bar- watching the four men she realised Leo’s descriptions were true. How could she tell them the truth? The tragic accident that occurred three months ago. Her heart was breaking once more.

“I’ll be right back Liam.” Liam looked at her confused as to how she knew his name, as she turned her back on him. Returning to the table- he provided a bewildered expression and remained silent.

“Please tell me you’re not falling for the waitress?”

“Drake... she knew my name. She said Liam. How does she know my name?”

“Er she probably overheard us... the nosey bitch.”

Liam nodded, still not believing she overheard them- the distance between them and the bar was too far.

“I’m so sorry for the delay, here are your drinks. Your food will shortly be here.”

“Thank you, Riley. How do you know my name?”

Shit. It slipped out of my mouth

“She’s a crown chaser Liam - obviously.” Drake snapped, assuming she knew about cordonia.

“Obviously I am Drake Walker. You’re an arsehole! I’m surprised you’re not hiding in the corner sulking.”

Maxwell burst out laughing uncontrollably, confused at how she described Drake to a t but it was funny seeing Drake’s eyebrows raise.

“How would you describe me then?” Maxwell smiles, giddy wondering how the friendly stranger would describe him.

“The spare heir Lord Maxwell. Friendly, outgoing- a kid at heart. And Lord Tariq you’re just a snob. Now we’ve done the introductions I better return to work. Enjoy your night gentlemen.”

“This is crazy! She knows all about us.” Drake stated, his jaw still agape with the rude attitude the waitress had towards him.

Liam stood up from the table- he wondered how she knew this information. If she had researched Cordonia- she wouldn’t be able to describe their personalities.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure. You’ll have to follow me around though.”

“So how do you know us all? I’m intrigued.”

“I don’t know any of you. But we had a mutual friend.”

Had? I don’t know anyone in New York apart from....

“Who?” Liam questioned hoping that it was his ignorant brother.

“Leo.” Riley managed to say his name, her chin trembling ever so slightly.

“That explains it. How is my brother? Have you spoken to him recently? I haven’t heard from him in over three months.” Liam snarled in a sarcastic manner.

“Liam, come and sit with me. I’ll get you a drink- you’ll need it.”

Walking back over to the bar, the other men watched the interaction- assuming Liam was trying to ‘pull’ the waitress. Riley handed him a scotch, holding his hand- her eyes began to water.

“So... Erm...” Riley bit her lip. Not knowing how this conversation was going to elaborate.

“Did you know the real reasoning behind Leo’s abdication?”

“Of course. He said he wanted to find love and not have the crowns responsibilities.”

“The truth is....He found love. And... your father found out. He was furious. Erm. Oh god Liam. I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Just fucking tell me Riley!” The other three men overhead Liam unexpectedly swear and shout at the stranger. It was out of character for the Prince. They all stormed over to the bar. Riley began crying uncontrollably, Drake had never seen Liam make a woman cry before- usually they would kiss him, especially if they knew his true identity.

“Leo.. I was married to him. We have a son.”

“So why was my father furious? Because you had a child out of wedlock? He abdicated so what did it matter? I have a nephew?”

“Yes, he’s called Lucas- he’s 1 next Saturday. Our marriage was a sham. Liam- he abdicated because he was homosexual. He found love with a man- I was the fake part of his life. Your father knew about me and Lucas but found out the truth on an impromptu trip here. Leo... he ... he couldn’t take living a lie anymore. Your father and Regina disowned him. Constantine told him ‘you are not my son, you never will be’ before slapping him across the face. Three months ago....Leo took his own life.”

#theroyalromance #choices trr #riley brooks #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #liam rhys #leo rhys #leo x riley

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bensboynton · 5 years

Text

the bookshop on the corner b.h

this request was originally a blurb but then i wrote a few thousand words and it turned to a fic. so. oops?

WC: 3.3k

warnings: none besides typos!! only ONE curse word.

John Green once said, “As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once.”

And as a hopeless romantic, Y/N has wished since the original publication of the novel said quote appeared in (The Fault in Our Stars; one of her more modern favorites) that she could relate. In even the slightest!

Although, it was quite hard being a hopeless romantic who had absolutely zero men who were even slightly interested in her, zero social skills, and zero opportunity to fall in love with anybody.

Until today.

Y/N works at a bookshop in the corner of a quiet East Sussex street, in a town called Rye. The shop is squished between a small deli and a bland boutique that sells flowy shirts she swears she’s seen her grandmother wear on a few occasions.

The store itself is quaint and small; an absolutely staggering number of seven whole bookshelves filled to the brim with words, a lounging area, and her desk where she also had an old cash register. Y/N often worked alone, as the owner had other businesses and placed almost all her trust in Y/N. The girl was completely okay with working alone.

Her routine was always the same; wake up at 6 am, get ready while dancing to whatever music she’d been listening to recently (you’d be surprised by how fast her music taste changes: just yesterday she was listening to Miley Cyrus and now she’s listening to various punk bands she discovered on the internet). She’d then walk to the café that was exactly 95 steps away from the stoop of her apartment (give or take a few) and she’d spend around 20 minutes talking to the old woman who runs the place.

After stalling at the coffee shop, she makes her way across the street to the book shop where she works with one other person; the owner of the shop.

Y/N’s life is very monotone, and to other people, extremely boring. But not to her.

Y/N’s entire life exists in a 5 block radius of East Sussex. She goes to the grocery store sometimes, but that’s about as far away she gets from her apartment and she’s completely okay with that. She eats takeout a lot, anyways.

As pathetic as that sounds, this is probably the happiest Y/N has been in her entire life. Besides when she adopted her cat. That was a very close second in her book.

Y/N was completely satisfied with her life. She’d talk with the woman who owned the book store she lived in, would greet her mailman with a cheery smile every morning. She knew everybody and everybody knew her. She was friends--scratch that, acquaintances-- with everybody who was around her. And that’s how she liked it.

In fifth grade, Y/N was bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to find a love like she saw in the movies her big sister watched on the TV all the time. While other kids her age were watching Finding Nemo, Y/N was watching Pretty Woman.

Then one day, Dale Erdelac, otherwise known as Y/N’s crush, asked her to be his girlfriend during lunch. She stood there with her mouth full of sharp metal braces and her heart full of adrenaline and butterflies. She said yes all too quickly.

Needless to say, Dale wasn’t serious. Y/N found out a few hours later that it wasn’t, in fact, a serious proposal. It was a dare from his snotty little friends. Y/N cried a lot more than she’d like to admit that day.

It would be completely immature and nonsensical if the only reason Y/N’s love life was so disappointing was because of a dumb mouth-breather in fifth grade. It’s not, but that’s definitely part of it.

Y/N has never truly been in love.

Her mom tries to tell her she has, but she knows she hasn’t. She dated a guy in high school for two years just to pass the time. She told him “I love you” and he said it back, but she didn’t feel love. She didn’t feel the speeding up of her heartbeat when she saw him, or the warmth that spreads across your chest when they laugh like the pretty girls talk about in the movies.

Her older sister, Peyton, tells her to move on a lot. “That fairytale love doesn’t exist,” she’d say, “it’s a creative outlet for fictional writers to display their nonsense dreams and desires. It can exist in your head, but never in real life.”

That’s what she said every time.

Y/N ignored her and kept on living her life in the small bubble of 5 blocks in Rye.

She was happy. She told herself that. No, she knew she was happy. She was secure! What else could she want in life?

And then he showed up.

The tiny bookstore in the corner of the block didn’t get a lot of visitors (although that could be easily inferred due to the description of the little community there). Y/N pretty much knew the name and story of every single person who stepped foot into the shop.

Until one day, she didn’t anymore.

It was a cold January day; not the kind where the wind pierces your skin like daggers. It was the kind of cold that felt dry; like it was sucking the water out of your body through your skin and leaving behind a red numbness in its wake.

A man walked in. He was tall and blonde, muscular and carried a chaotically calming energy. His eyes raked over the book store slowly, as if he was trying to imprint the old wooden rocking chairs and chipped bookshelves in his mind forever.

It was like every move he made had a perfectly logical purpose.

Y/N watched him intently from across the room, hidden by a pile of books she’d been meaning to put away for more than an hour now. She was so intrigued by him it made her stomach do a backflip. This was unusual for her.

As soon as the man started looking her way, she looked down into the book sitting open on her lap, scrambling to pretend she was deep in thought over the passage she was reading.

Her pupils glossed over the same paragraph three times, but she couldn’t comprehend a single word knowing he was in the same room as her.

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s body jolted slightly due to the sudden sound of his deep voice. She was the only one in the bookshop at the moment, as the owner had gone home for the day and it was her turn to close up. The store was never populated by more than six people at a time, and it would be especially dead considering New Year’s Eve was two days ago.

“What can I help you with?” she spoke, mentally slapping herself for the way her voice sounded. It was pinched and sounded like a squeak. She cleared her throat desperately to return it to its normal sound.

“I’m looking for a book.”

“What kind of book?”

“Well... that’s what I need your help with.”

She smiled as an involuntary blush made its way to her already rosy cheeks, “I think I can help you.”

She stood up and walked from behind the desk, beckoning the tall blonde man to go with her. The pair made their way to the bookshelves in awkward and palpable silence. The girl was panicking- she had no idea what to say.

“I was wondering if you had any recommendations?” The Brit added to the nonexistent conversation.

Y/N thought for a moment, “...well, I’m not sure what kind of person you are, but I recommend any classic literature to people who ask.”

“Does the type of person I am happen to determine the type of books I like?”

“It’s the only thing that determines what type of books you like.”

The girl turned around, her fingers lightly dancing over the spines of the books as she walked. The tall man was on her heels, seemingly just as intrigued by her and she was with him.

“Of course we have Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, To Kill A Mockingbird, Wuthering Heights, and of course, my favorite of all time, The Great Gatsby.” She was picking out the books from their places on the shelves that she had memorized over her six years of working here. She knew the placement of books and authors like the back of her hand.

The man gazed at the pile of books in her arms thoughtfully, before meeting her eyes. “I’ll take it.”

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

She grinned at his eagerness.

After ringing up his books and a slight burst of confidence, Y/N was able to discover the man’s name and his reason for suddenly buying four books two days after New Year’s Eve.

Ben (a name she thought suited him particularly well) was starting a New Year’s Resolution; read one book a month. He confided in her his self-doubt on his ability, but with a small grin, she said she believed in him. His smile grew as he picked up the bag and left.

Y/N could’ve cursed herself into oblivion for not getting his number.

The girl walked across the street that next morning, balancing a coffee and a copy of the newest book that had arrived at the store.

That was one of the best perks of her job, she thought. Access to the newest stories. While she pondered the last chapter she had read of her book, a blonde head of hair in the distance caught her eye.

“Excuse me?” a very familiar voice spoke. Y/N’s cheeks almost immediately flushed at those two words. Deja Vu.

“You’re back!” she spoke, almost as to question why. It’s not often someone new comes back twice, much less is standing at the door before she even gets there.

“I am,” he spoke breathily, scratching the back of his neck, “I wanted to come back to... well...” he trailed off, eyes dancing to the floor.

Y/N waited patiently for him to say what he meant to (she knew that’s what she’d want if she was in his shoes).

“I needed to get your name, at least. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.”

The girl bit the inside of her cheek to stop her mouth from stretching into a grin that was a mile long. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she stared at her shoes for a moment.

She made direct eye contact with Ben’s hazel eyes and smiled, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose slightly.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, his eyes going hazy as he thought about it.

Ben followed her inside and sat down next to her desk quickly, almost as if he was afraid he’d run out of time.

“I read The Great Gatsby yesterday... you said that one was your favorites, right?”

Y/N nodded, taking a delicate sip from the paper cup of coffee still in her hand.

“Right. Well. I have a few questions.”

Y/N nodded vigorously. She could practically feel the twinkle in her eye, “I’m all ears.”

Y/N went home that day with a swarm of butterflies making a home in the pits of her stomach. Ben had spent the better part of four hours with her, discussing the book he read and many, many other things.

When Ben left the shop that day, she had learned that his favorite color was clear (he thought it made him quirky) and he had a dog named Frankie. Y/N saw quite a few pictures of Frankie that day. She was a cat person, but she couldn’t tell if it was the dog or the way Ben’s eyes lit up when he talked about her that made her heart swell.

She also learned that Ben hated reading, and that he was mildly confused as to why he seemed to enjoy the Great Gatsby so much.

“It’s got to be because of you,” he mused, “I’ve never enjoyed reading a book until this one.”

Y/N also learned that Ben was an incredibly smooth talker.

He made her blush and giggle like a school-girl almost all day. It physically pained Y/N when she had to leave him alone to help a customer. She wished she could sit there and bask in him and all that he was.

Y/N wasn’t positive if love at first sight existed before, but now she hadn’t been more positive of anything in her entire life.

Y/N hadn’t had anyone new to talk to in years (she wishes that was an exaggeration).

So you could definitely imagine the girl’s surprise to see a young British man with a shared admiration for the Great Gatsby at the book shop again before opening time.

The day prior seemed to repeat itself. And then, every single day after that.

For three months, Ben would come to the book store and wait outside for Y/N to come and open up. And Y/N spent three weeks barely getting any sleep and talking to her cat about how excited she was to see Ben the next day.

Y/N and Ben got very close.

Insanely close.

So close to the point that Ben knew every single secret she had kept to herself. He knew the name of her first pet and childhood address (which she realized Ben could easily use to change the passwords on innumerable online shopping accounts).

Ben knew about the one time she had an allergic reaction to a medicine she was on when she was younger, and he even knew about fucking Dale. That was a story Y/N kept to herself. But she told Ben.

But this relationship was definitely not onesided. Y/N knew just about everything there was to know about Ben.

She knew the names of his childhood best friends and his favorite flavor of ice cream. She knew about the one time he got arrested when he was a teenager because he was lighting off fireworks in the street at 3 am. She also knew that Ben was an actor that was currently working on a new film. But she wanted to know even more.

Ben left every day at around 11:30. Y/N had no idea where he went or what he did, but he was never more than five minutes late before he stood up, gave her a big smile and left.

Y/N had never been in love before but she knew with every fiber of her being, with every bone, muscle, and cell in her body that she was in love with Ben.

And almost as soon as she realized this, there came some news.

Earth-shattering, heart-wrenching news.

He was leaving.

“I have to go back to the states to finish this film in three days,” he muttered into the quiet air of the book store he had grown so familiar with, “and I won’t be back for at least two months.”

Y/N could physically feel her heart drop in unison with the butterflies in her stomach. He was leaving, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

She had given him a sad smile and taken a thoughtful sip of the tea sitting on her desk.

“Oh well. Guess I’ll see you in two months, right?”

"Yeah,” Ben said with a grimace, “right.”

The two of them spent those last few days talking quickly; trying to fit as many words into as little amount of time as possible. It felt like they were suffocating with how fast they were talking and how fast the conversation was moving. Her head would hurt at trying to process so many conversations and stories and little peccadilloes the pair were hurling at each other.

It was like they were making up for the time the two of them knew they were going to lose.

On Ben’s last day, Y/N told him of her fear of love and the lack thereof in her life. She told him of her strong desire to be able to relate to the John Green quote. He didn’t say much to that.

She was so in love with him. And she didn’t think he was in love with her.

His flight was at 1:00 that day. He left at noon instead of 11:30. Y/N felt her heartbeat increase as the seconds passed by for that last half hour, almost like she was genuinely frightened of him leaving.

He said goodbye with the first hug the pair ever shared and a light kiss to the top of the head. Y/N’s face was comparable to a fire hydrant.

Ben swore he would keep in contact, but with the differing time zones, Y/N knew deep down that wouldn’t happen.

So, with a heavy heart, she caught up on some things around the shop she had been slacking on these past few weeks.

She blinked away the tears in her eyes a few times, mentally shaming herself for being so upset this man she met three months earlier was leaving. She should’ve known. Or even better, she should’ve said something.

The girl watched in agony as the clock hit 1:00 that afternoon, and felt a pang in her chest as she thought of him jetting far, far, away from her.

He would never remember her. She was a quiet girl who worked in a quiet bookshop that was located in a quiet corner of an even quieter town. There was nothing she could do.

She started sweeping lazily, letting the broom lightly drag across the floor. She didn’t even acknowledge the fact that she wasn’t sweeping anything up.

She almost peed her pants, though, when a loud noise sounded throughout the otherwise empty bookshop and the door was thrown open the fastest it’s been in its entire life. So fast, in fact, that it fell off its hinges and onto the floor, simultaneously shattering the glass panes that made up the middle.

The girl stumbled backward in shock, her heart pumping not only because of the loud noise, but also because of the person who broke the door.

Ben.

The widest smile to ever adorn her pretty face was stretching across her lips. In an adrenaline filled moment, she was off the floor and in his arms. He was stiff and shocked at first, but almost immediately melted into her strangely warm embrace.

“What are you doing? Your flight was supposed to leave 15 minutes ago!” Y/N exclaimed, the confusion finally finding its way to her intricate brain.

“I-I couldn’t do it. Not without telling you something first.”

Y/N’s heart was beating so hard she swore he could see it pounding out of her chest like it does in the cartoons.

“There’s really no easy way to do this, but here goes nothing,” Ben spoke, clearing his throat, “Y/N, I know we haven’t known each other for that long but I really, really, really like y-”

Before the beautiful, perfect man could finish his sentence, Y/N was pushing her lips against his in a mad frenzy to release a tension that had been palpable for months.

Ben melted into the kiss faster than he melted into the hug, his lips moving against hers oh-so-perfectly.

It felt like they were made to be together.

It felt like Y/N had been searching for the final puzzle piece to her life for 27 years, and now here she was, standing in the middle of the bookshop on the corner with the glass door shattered on the floor, finally finishing her life-long puzzle.

“I think I love you.”

“I think I love you too,” she whispered into the quiet that had again settled over the bookstore.

Maybe Y/N didn’t fall in love while watching Ben read, as John Green said one of his characters did. But she did fall in love like she fell asleep.

Slowly, then all at once.

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skyking91-archive · 4 years

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Discord thread featuring: Sky & @samuelburton

When: October 4, 2020 - right before Sam takes Sky to her surprise birthday party

Where: Sam’s apartment

Mentions: @jesskipp

Description: Sam cooks Sky a b-day lunch, and plays her the song he wrote for her

Trigger Warnings: fluff fluff fluff.

Sam

sam had been preparing a little something special for sky's birthday for a little while now. it was hard to compete with yacht parties and expensive gifts, but sam knew that all sky really wanted was to spend time with her loved ones on her special day. sam was lucky to be counted among them. he hadn't always been the most talented in the kitchen, but he really had been working on improving his skills and for lunch he whipped up a light but tasty pasta dish that was absolutely delicious. it was sam's responsibility to get sky to the surprise party, so they didn't have too much time, but sam wanted to make the most of it. the table was set appropriately with candles and roses because if sam learned anything from watching the food network it was all about the presentation. he pulled sky's chair out for her and once she was seated, ducked his head to speak directly into her ear. "happy birthday, love," he told her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

Sky

Sky hasn’t been this happy in a while. She had a good job, one in which she was making a lot of money off, she was just cast as one of her dream roles in one of her favorite shows, and most importantly she had to most loving and supportive boyfriend that anyone could ever ask for. Sam’s plan for today was so romantic. There was nothing sexier than a man who wanted to cook for their lover. While Sky loved fancy parties and an excuse to dress up, but when it came to Sam...quality time with him was everything she ever needed and more. She was still in her dance outfit from the class she taught at Jaycee’s studio earlier when she entered the room. Her face lit up at the sight. “Sam...” she mused, blushing a little at the way he pulled out the chair for her and kissed her on the cheek. She felt like a real princess.

Sam

sam sat across from her at the small table he'd set for them. it was no elaborate set up with balloons and paper hearts, but it was heartfelt non the less. he uncorked the bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass. "i thought since it's your birthday we could definitely indulge in a little day drinking," he told her with a wink. it was so nice to be able to spend time with sky like this. between rehearsals, her dance classes, and her job, it was getting harder to spend quality time together like this. it only made it harder that they couldn't really be seen in public together. but sam was so happy for her. she was doing so well and he couldn't be more proud of her. "an amazing home cooked meal for an amazing girl," sam smiled, raising his glass.

Sky

Ah, wine. Sky and Jess considered themselves wine connoisseurs even though they were far from that. She hummed contently as she watched him pour the wine for the pair. This was the simplest gesture, but she honestly felt like a fucking princess. Sky had such a busy and crazy life, but she loved keeping busy and doing the things she was passionate about. She hadn't been this happy in such a long time. She was making money, dancing, singing, acting, and dating the best man in the entire city. 29 was bound to be an amazing year. "I love you." she smiled at him, raising her glass and taking a tiny sip of her wine.

Sam

“don’t say that until you’ve tried the pasta,” sam joked, though he was smiling the way he did whenever she told him she loved him. he would never tire of hearing her say that. sam tipped back his glass, taking a sip of wine before promptly digging in. it was pretty fucking good and sam felt relief wash over him. they weren’t the kind of couple who needed everything to be perfect to enjoy themselves but he wanted to do something nice for sky for her birthday and was glad that he really had improved as far as cooking goes.

Sky

Sky snorted at her little goofball. She followed his lead and took a tiny bite of the pasta, much more gracefully than Sam was eating. But wow. It was so damn good. She took another sip of her wine before locking eyes with him and reaching across the table to grab his hand. "Thank you so much." She grinned again. Her face was hurting from smiling so hard. This was such a sweet gesture, and it made her heart so full. She really did not think she deserved Sam. There was still a pit in her stomach about the whole Mat thing, and part of her thought that their relationship would end the same way it did before. But moment like these reassured Sky that Sam really was the one.

Sam

“you deserve it,” sam told his girlfriend, his smile warm and genuine, his eyes soft. seeing her happy like this made sam absolutely melt. he loved her so much. they continued eating and chatting, joking around, and just generally having a really good time. once they’d both finished their meal and another glass of wine, sam stood and rounded the table. he stood behind her, squeezing her shoulders as he leaned down to kiss her head. “i’ve got one more surprise for you,” he told her.

Sky

This was perfect. She was always having a laugh when she was with Sam, and she was just so genuinely happy this afternoon. Sky raised her brows when her boyfriend told her that he had another surprise for her — her mind automatically going to a nice gift. His massive cock would be nice too. She tilted her head to look into her favorite pair of blue eyes. Her heart stopped just about every time she looked into them. Still. “What is it?” She asked eagerly.

Sam

“come here.” sam took sky’s hand and guided her out of her chair and into his room. “i’d love to give you diamonds or something just as extravagant because you deserve it, but i hope that this will be just as good if not better,” he told her before guiding her over to sit beside him at his keyboard. sam loved the piano, but he rarely played for others. it was something that he kept for himself. but this was a special occasion and music had always been something so important to sam and was sometimes the easiest way for him to express what he was feeling. he smiled at sky, a little nervous, and began to play. it was a medley of her favorite showtunes interwoven with score from some of her favorite movies. his fingers glided skillfully over the keys as he transitioned from one piece into the next before ending with something completely original. he’d written it especially for sky. he’d poured everything into it, communicating with music rather than words just how much she meant to him.

Sky

Sky chuckled. Diamonds sounded nice, but she’d never ask Sam to do that for her. Bedsides, she’d soon be able to buy her own diamonds with this new job. She grinned as she followed him. Her heart fell into her stomach and she stopped him her steps when he sat down on the piano. He didn’t. She slowly moved to sit down on the bench next to him, her jaw to the floor. This was one of the most beautiful things she had ever heard in her life. Her dark eyes flickered from his gorgeous hands to his face which was concentrated on the keys below them. Sky really didn’t expect something like this at all. This was better than any diamonds or gold anyone could ever buy her. “I love you.” She told him. He didn’t even need to say those words back to her because she could tell just how much he did by listening to that song. “Sam...” she put her face in her hands. She was absolutely speechless for once.

Sam

sam couldn’t have hoped for a better reaction. his heart was so full of love for his girlfriend and seeing the look on her face was all he ever needed. sam put his arms around her, pulling her into his side and kissing her on the head. “you? speechless? who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” he teased, squeezing her shoulder. “happy birthday, love,” he told her. “you’re everything to me.”

Sky

“Shut up.” She giggled, nudging him in the arm with her elbow playfully. But he was right. Damn. Sky could talk but there were not words to describe how she was feeling right now. “I’m happy to be spending this year with you.” She told him. “You’re my everything too.” She looked over at him with a bright smile. She wished she could give him everything so that he could just work on his music. She’d work her three jobs — Jaycee’s studio, the show, and Mat’s fake girlfriend — 24/7 if that meant that Sam could just do what he loved all day. She owed him that much. “Hey. We should write a song together one day.” She smirked.

Sam

sam smiled when she said she was happy to spend the year with him. it was kind of funny the way they ended up together once again, just in time for the holidays. it almost felt like a do over, though a lot had changed. sam was determined to get it right this time around. “me too,” he said, still holding her close. at her suggestion, he turned to look at her, eyes bright with excitement at the idea of creating music together. “yeah?” he said, his smile widening. “you know i love hearing you sing,” he added, leaning in to kiss her sweetly. when he pulled away, he managed to catch sight of the clock on the nightstand. if they were going to make it to the party in time, they needed to start getting ready. “hey, how about we take a bit of an evening stroll?” he asked.

Sky

And Sky loved to sing for Sam. He was probably her biggest fan and she was most definitely his. He supported her career like nobody she ever knew. Especially since growing up was so hard for her. Sam was one of maybe two or three consistent people she had in her life at this point. Sky pouted when her boyfriend pulled away from her, although the words coming out of his mouth were beyond sweet. Of course they made Sky blush, but she wanted to be kissing him again so damn bad. "Or we could stay here and I could jump your bones?" She kissed him again, leaning into him this time. A walk sounded nice, sure. But this was better.

Sam

sam kissed her back, smiling against her lips. it was really really tempting. and sounded like a much better option to sam. but he’d been given the responsibility of getting sky to that party and he knew that sky would absolutely love that her friends, namely jess, had put it together for her. “you don’t know how much i’d love that,” he sighed as he pulled away. “but i think you’d really enjoy taking a walk,” he said, giving her a meaningful look. he knew that there were probably more subtle ways of getting sky out the door, but they were working against the clock here. “trust me,” he told her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss in the nose.

#discord #sam

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thesecondcircleofkel · 5 years

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Party Time Series- Monoma Ending

1.4K

Request: “Could you do something of Monoma and a reader getting stuck in the closet together while their two classes played seven minutes in heaven? (Maybe him being himself towards a class 1-A student, and maybe light nsfw blossoming after?) please and thank you! I love you and you’re writing!”

Warnings: NSFW for like, 2 seconds

Notes: The Opening Scenario and the explanation of this series can be found in my masterlist.

Monoma

As smug as Mina’s smile may have been, you could practically feel the judgement radiating off of her, as well. You knew that she found your crush questionable, to say the least, and that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you fell for Monoma, of all people. The heart wants what the heart wants, though, even if the heart could be a bit unconventional at times. You almost expected to pull out a name other than Monoma when Mina shoved the bag in your face, thinking that maybe she would try to avert your feelings to someone else (she had obviously already rigged the game for you), but no, Monoma was definitely the name that you picked, and you felt a pair of hands slowly pushing you towards the closet.

“Oh, what’s this? One of our old Class A rivals? What a strange and unfortunate turn of events this is!”

As annoying as the cackling was for the rest of your old classmates (and probably most of his, as well), you knew the real meaning behind it. You’d paid enough attention to him over the years to know that he mainly did that fake, boisterous laugh when he was nervous, and honestly, that thought made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. At least you wouldn’t be the only nervous wreck in that closet. Thanks to a few of his exasperated-looking former classmates, Monoma ended up being shoved into the closet first, although with the door still open, that did little to drown out his voice as he kept, well…being Monoma.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, Y/N.”

“Very encouraging, Mina.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you out in the love department. I never said I wouldn’t judge you, though.”

“Look, am I going in this closet or not?”

“Sure you don’t want to back out?”

“Mina…”

“Alright, alright, in you go! Have fun you two!”

Thanks to a particularly sturdy shove from Mina, you slammed right into Monoma’s chest as the closet door shut. In an attempt to try to stop the inevitable, you immediately steadied yourself and stepped away from him, but before you could even get half way through your apology, Monoma had already started his usual banter.

“Oh? Someone from the mighty Class A unsteady on their feet? I never thought I’d see the day! And here I was, thinking that you were all so superior to us. Don’t tell me that all of the attention that you got in school was completely unwarranted!”

As much as you should have been focusing on shutting him up, you couldn’t but wonder…had Monoma planned these rants out in some way? As he droned on and on about your class, every word that he said sounded so familiar, almost as if you’d heard this exact rant many times before. It was probably just out of habit on his part, but goodness he was starting to sound so rehearsed at this point. That was a question for another day, though, because at the moment, all Monoma could focus on was what class you were in during high school, and that just wouldn’t do, mainly because you were pretty sure that he’d chill out if he just stopped thinking about that tenuous old class rivalry.

You tried calling out his name, but he either didn’t hear it or he ignored you. Regardless, his ranting continued, so you were going to have to use a different method to get his attention. If your words wouldn’t work, then maybe your actions would. What you were about to do was undeniably bold, surprisingly so given how nervous you were at the beginning of this whole ordeal, but at this point, you really just needed Monoma to stop talking.

You knew by the proximity of his voice that he wasn’t standing far from you, and you reached forward with both arms. Luckily, both of your hands managed to land on his shoulders right off the bat, and you quickly grabbed him by the back of the head, winding your fingers through his hair and dragging his face towards yours.

“What are y-”

Before Monoma could utter another word, you slammed your lips against his. Your positioning was a bit off at first, barely catching his bottom lip between your own thanks to the fact that you couldn’t see a damn thing inside the closet, but you quickly corrected that. Monoma’s body went completely rigid as your lips interlocked with his, but he made no move to push you away as you felt his fingertips ghost over your hips, uncertainty obviously taking hold of him.

Not wanting to push him too far at this point, you slowly started to pull away from Monona, easing your lips off of his and loosening your grip on his hair. Apparently, whatever uncertainty he had left him at that moment, because before your lips were even fully parted from him, he grabbed you by the hips, yanking your body against his and crashing his mouth back against yours. He only gave you one long, lingering kiss at first, the force behind which was surely enough to leave your lips bruised, but he changed tactics soon enough, his lips languidly moving against yours.

You clutched at the front of shirt, the apparent passion behind his actions making your toes curl. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his tongue run across the seam of your lips, and you eagerly gave him more access to your mouth, desperately wanting to taste him in full while you had the chance. While your mouths danced together, your hands began to wonder, at first trying to knead the muscles of Monoma’s chest through his shirt, but then they crept lower, sliding under his clothes to run over the bare skin of his stomach. Even as your fingers trailed along the waistline of his pants, Monoma made no move to stop you, and if anything, the pace of his kiss took an almost frantic turn.

After a bit of a struggle with his belt, you were finally able to fully unfasten Monoma’s pants, and without hesitation (thanks to the courage that his receptiveness endowed you with), your hand slid beneath his clothing once more. Monoma gasped as your fingers came into contact with his cock, the appendage already hardened thanks to your earlier forwardness and growing more rigid by the second as you touched him. His fingers dug even harder into the flesh of your hips, his body buzzing with anticipation as your fingers wrapped-

“One minute left!”

Damn. For someone who was trying to play wingwoman, Mina sure was good at cockblocking. You and Monoma both sighed as you broke apart, your hand immediately retreating from his body as he went to…adjust himself so he’d be presentable when the door opened. You hadn’t intended to leave him high and dry like that, and it admittedly made you feel a bit guilty, knowing how uncomfortable he’d be for the rest of the party. At least you’d been effective at shutting him up, though.

“Well, this was, uh, eventful.”

“Dinner.”

Maybe you’d been too effective at shutting him up, because now he wasn’t making any sense at all.

“Dinner as in…?”

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

“Really? Even though I was in your rival class?”

“I suppose that…maybe I was a bit harsh with my insults earlier. There’s hardly a class rivalry anymore, and I won’t deny that you’ve caught my eye.”

“More like caught your dick but carry on.”

He chuckled at that, and it was a much more pleasant sound than the cackling that you normally heard from him.

“That, too, but I assure you that you had my interest before this…debacle.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m not entirely convinced that you don’t just want me to finish that hand job, but…I wouldn’t mind you trying to prove me wrong on that.”

“It’s a date then.”

You couldn’t wait to tell Mina about this, if only so you could see the disgusted look on her face when you told her exactly what went down in the closet. You wouldn’t spare her any of the details, and, if she decided to give you any more judgmental looks when the closet was opened, then you’d be sure to embellish everything a bit with some very vivid and colorful descriptions. It may have been petty, but it’s certainly what she deserved at this point.

#monoma neito #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #monoma x reader #bnha monoma #mha monoma #scenario #imagine #request #party time series #don't read in polite company

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

The Honey - Vince Kovac x Reader (Tangle)

Oh shit! My hand slipped!

Note: All my readers start out as OCs. That why reader has a little more description to her here. The fact that she is very short I made into an important story factor. The fact she has blue hair... a little less... but I stuck with her... Hopefully you do too... Author’s Note: Sometimes songs are kicked from chapters and playlists so they can find the perfect Mendo. And here we are. At last. Also, Grace - AUS represent!! Set in an AU (I guess!) to Tangle, where everything is the same - apart from the last 15 minutes of the 10th episode. Disclaimer: Tangle and related characters not mine / Gifs not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: Dating a known cheater & divorcee was never really in your plans. Mind you, neither was moving to Melbourne. Enter Vince Kovac, who is about to shake your world up...

Words: 5822

Warnings: Swearing / Major set up, probably not that interesting / Essentially its one long talk about sex without... actually talking about sex.

________ You got what you give, so keep on giving what you get Call it what you like but that does not say what it is I'm a slave for you, I check my lashes in the whip... Me and you, no stoppin' us Love is hard to handle, guess I need to get a grip Ooh, it's a game Honey, it's a pity And I'm a good girl, but even angels gotta cry sometimes Oh, baby, just let me cry You're just what I need now This ain't funny, he ain't sweet But he might be the honey I need now Please now, got me on my knees, I can't breathe You're the honey I need now I usually like it simple but the compliments just make it complicated And your confidence is far from understated They say you're no good for me But they can't tell me nothing You're only gonna go and break my heart, I take the risk Sittin', thinkin' bout ya, thinkin' bout ya, thinkin' bout ya It's a trip ---

You had moved to Melbourne a few months ago. Goodness knows why they’d moved you here for work relocation; you could think of a million reasons why it would be better not to have moved you but you didn’t ask questions like that. These days you figured it make sense to go where the work apparently was. Although you spent maybe 50% of that travelling anyway. So... the work was everywhere. Still, no, Melbourne. Which you guessed was fine. Whatever.

You’d moved into an apartment and were renting when you arrived, but what you really wanted was a house. Which you could buy, of course - but why not use your own skills? No no, you wanted to build it yourself. Only you didn’t build houses... so you needed to find someone who could. “So, you need a construction company?” You looked to your co-worker, Manuel, a good friend for many years as it was - and perhaps one of the only reasons you agreed to move out here; “This is where you tell me you know someone.” “I know of someone...” “Right... ever used them?” “Oh, trust me they will do what you want, no problem.” “But?” “Why is there a but?” “There’s a but. I can hear it in your voice...!!” “I dunno... there’s a reputation that goes with it...” “What kind of reputation?!” “Well, for building itself you won’t find better... but there’s been a few disagreements.” “Disagreements.” You repeated, in the same tone “Yeah...” “What kind of disagreements?” “Oh, not with clients. Like I say they do an outstanding job... just, with contractors and the like...” “Contractors that will be working on my house!!” “Look they are the first ones I’d recommend... do you want the contact or not?!” “Yes. If you’d recommend them!” He brought out his wallet and offered you the card “Call ‘em.” “Kovac Construction.” You raised an eyebrow “...you promise me they are good.” “I promise you. They’ll do exactly what you want. And I know you’re particular...” “That’s one word...” you agreed with a smile, “This Kovac got a name?” You were left with a mysterious smile and a laugh “No. I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself...!”

The phone only had to ring twice before you were greeted with a rough Melbourne twang; “Vince Kovac.” You almost laughed. Almost. Vince Kovac. oh yeah, he sounded like a troublemaker. “Uh, Hi, Mr.Kovac - I’m F/N L/N; I’ve heard that you’re the man to come to if I want a house building...” “Sounds about right, Y/N, how can my company help you?” “Well, I’ve been here a couple of months, and already looked into and secured land... I just need it building to spec.” There was a slight pause as your information was considered; “...Well, you got an architect?! You know what it’s gonna look like right-?! Cuz we don’t really do that stuff... though I can probably find you a good one.” “No, that’s alright, and I was hoping to talk to you about that. But I can deal with that, I just need the construction company.” “Well then I hope we might be the one.” “As do I - you come highly recommended!”

So that was how you agreed to meet Vince Kovac at the QT hotel, lunch time two days later. “You know what this Vince Kovac looks like?” Manuel raised an eyebrow; “You don’t know? You got a google!” “Are you serious?! Just tell me!” “No! Find that out for yourself too...” He nodded to your folder “Hey! You already got a portfolio ready for him - damn girl!” You smacked him with it; “Tell me what he looks like! I’m meeting him like right now.” “Your detective skills got you his name, they’ll get you his face too.” “I hate you.” You’d stay and glare at him for a little while longer, but you didn’t have time. You walked away, if you didn’t leave now you’d be late... and that wouldn’t look good. He yelled after you with a broad grin; “You’re welcome!!”

You arrived at the hotel exactly on time and walked through into the lobby. This wouldn’t be hard, you figured. He’ll be the only man here who looks like he works construction; you continued a short, slow walk around. Pretending like you weren’t looking for someone in particular. Like you might be here for a business meeting with a client, or just about anything else. Then you smirked to yourself; sitting on a bench alone, looking at his phone, was the man who could only be yours. Short neat dark hair that seemed to be going grey with the way the light caught it, blue T-shirt, black slacks and jacket – both faded from being worn often. Looks like he had a favourite set of clothes. His shades sat next to him and he was gazing at his phone. No briefcase, suitcase or papers. Vince Kovac.

You walked over slowly; and he didn’t look up when you got to him; so you didn’t look at him when you addressed him - instead made a sweeping statement whilst gazing around the lobby again; “I’m going to make an educated guess here, that you’re Mr.Vince Kovac.” He looked up - and that gave you his eye colour, a sharp, intelligent blue - but had to look up considerably less than he was expecting. And your eyes turned back to him; “Yeah.... which makes you Ms.L/N.” “Correct.” Vince rose from his seat. Didn’t matter how tall he was, he would still tower you. He held out his hand; “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “And you.” Though you thought that might just be you saying a formality, considering it seemed he had a reputation. He nodded to the folder “Looks like you already have your architect.” “Yeah, there’s only one I trust.” “That so.” “Yeah.” You gave him a smile that seemed more like a warning, “I get what I want, Mr.Kovac.” “Oh.” He raised an eyebrow; “That I don’t doubt.” He looked around the hotel “Got a room?” “Matter of fact I do…” You folded your arms “Wow. I thought we were just here to discuss a business proposal… Having said that, I have no qualms with mixing business and pleasure.” His eyes flicked up and down your stature and you narrowed your eyes at him; if you knew him a little better, you’d have hit him with your folder too. “Unfortunately for you, we will be sharing the room with a bunch of people – so I guess you can say I really ordered a table.” You indicated for him to walk with you, and he blew out a breath like he was slightly disappointed as you led him to the restaurant. Vince Kovac dropped a little behind you to watch you walk, to count the number of piercings in your ears, the way your hair colour ran into a powder blue. But you couldn’t have been much over 5ft in heels. Tiny. But even watching you he bit his lip; no less a woman, though. “You’re not exactly what I expected.” “What makes you say that, that I’m vertically challenged?” “Ha!” He smiled “Maybe that’s it... maybe not.” “Maybe I should take my heels off; would that make you feel better?” “No, I’m just looking at you thinking you would be able to lie down in my truck bed no problems. And it’s a short truck bed.” You paused and looked to him; he’d said that on purpose. You knew. “…I’m not sure what your truck exactly has to do with this Mr.Kovac…” “Well. I’ll be driving it to your building site every day, so maybe we can just test my theory.” You flashed him a small smirk “Ha. You’ll be lucky.” For a second he tilted his body back and even though he was smiling he squinted. Oh, you guessed he might be used to being the kind of man woman found hard to resist. What were you meant to respond with? - ‘Oh yeah, guess you can throw me in the back of your truck now, where did you park…?’ You shook your head with an eyeroll and he had to go back to following you to the restaurant. You weren’t dumb either, you knew exactly why he chose to follow you instead of walk with you – so you were glad enough when you could sit down and get a table between you. And he was still giving you that look, like if he tried hard enough he could get whatever he wanted out of you by the end of this conversation. Nuh uh. You placed your rolled up architectural sketch and portfolio on the table. “So. I don’t see much point in dancing around this – let’s get to the point. I’m going to show you what I want, and you’re gonna tell me if you can do it or not, okay?” He placed his elbows on the table and leant on his hands “Okay.” You rolled it out using the folder to hold it down flat. “It’s only two floors, but it’s a big build. Pretty much all open plan downstairs… Upstairs is a little more sectioned rooms.” “You do realise the support needed for that to work, right.” “I factored for that.” You tapped the drawing. “…Yes…” He quirked an eyebrow and leant in closer to the drawing. Realising this wasn’t something from a CAD system. This was hand drawn. “…Did… you draw this…?!” “Correct.” “You…” His eyes flicked back to you “You’re the architect.” “Yes.” “…Well shit…” He sat back, arms folded “Then you know what you want I can’t do. We won’t have the same vision.” “I understand that building it is you grounding me in reality, when what I see in my head will never be what I get. I’m asking you if you can be that man, Vince.” He pulled the folder towards him and flicked it open; he’d seen things like this before. Essentially the plan in front of him blown up in much more detail. At the top of every page was neatly written script detailing everything you’d been thinking. “Geez…” He kept going. “…Do you know how much this is going to cost ya?!” “If money was a problem I wouldn’t be asking…” He closed the folder and slid it back to you “It’s ambitious.” “Too ambitious?” “I didn’t say that. I think it’s a big project. And we both need to be on the same page with how big it really is.” Is he still talking about architecture here-!? He better be! “I know what I’m asking you to undertake. I also know that at every step of the way I’m going to have to alter my plan… I’m prepared to accept that. But I want someone who sees what I’m trying to do and wants to do that with me…” There was a pause for a minute as both of you stared at each other, there was enough measuring going on here. However, he eventually gave; “…I do… And working on something like that would be… An experience in itself for me and my guys… But it’s months and months of very hard work.” Still Vince stuck his hand out “If you’re prepared to front the money for this – I would be honoured to take the project on.” You gave him a small smile, but took his hand anyway; “Oh. You have no idea how honoured you should be Mr.Kovac.” He gave a laugh “…Well. At the end of the day, I get to see you solidly for a few months. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up taking me up on the truck offer.” You shook your head “In your wildest f**king dreams.” You noticed the playfulness in the next smirk he gave; “That’s kinda what I was thinking, yeah.”

*** You emailed back and forth for a couple of weeks as you and he finished up other projects, and you got used to each other. His banter was always suggestive, and you played right along with that. It was funny to read between the lines of what he was sending you every day. You slowly warmed to him – and were at least looking forward to working with him – having scoured his company website you’d done a quick check in of his own physical builds. Nothing quite so ambitious as what you were thinking. But, lets an architect loose on her own house and she was bound to go a bit crazy. It was his job as your builder to pull you back to Earth; Y/N that’s ridiculous… Y/N you realise if we use that the whole ceiling caves right?!... Come on, you can’t fight gravity, that entire structure will shatter if you do that. And Vince at least looked, and sounded, the type who was going to take every opportunity he could to overpower you and try to curb your feisty attitude. You thought that his front was amicable, he didn’t know what he was dealing with yet… Still, he agreed to meet you at the location you’d given him for your house. And when he rolled into what was to be the driveway, he realised his was the only car. You were sitting at the top of the slope on which the house would sit. Vince slammed his car door shut and looked around. You appeared to have brought a plot of land at the end of a developed and developing street. Fascinating… He wandered over; “Where’s your car?” “Car? I ran here, I’ll run back.” “Ran? Well... I run. Every morning before work.” “Oh really.” He seemed quite proud of himself with the way he folded his arms; “Yeah, quite serious about it.” “Really? How fast are you?” “Fast enough.” “Keep pace?” “Pretty well.” “Ever run a marathon?” His face fell “Oh. You’re a serious runner.” “Damn right Mr.Kovac, if you wanna partner up with me, you best know what you’re in for.” “So your stamina’s good?” “Why don’t you find out.” He looked away from you for a minute with a laugh, because he damn well knew that after building this house that was his goal. He’d get you it was just a matter of time. You raised an eyebrow, turning in the direction of his parked vehicle and looking at his truck bed “You sure I’m gonna fit in that? I mean I know I’m small, but, even that’s a stretch.” “Yeah, it’ll be fine we’ll work on it. I’ll make you fit.” “You got a bar in there?” “A bar?” “Yeah to keep everything in place. Hold stuff still.” “So you have been thinking about my offer then?” You didn’t miss a beat to shoot him down; “Not in the slightest.”

At this point you were 99% sure you were both talking about sex but pretending you weren’t. And you realised quickly that nearly every conversation you’d ever had had followed this same pattern. If you weren’t careful this was going to get real complicated real quick. But that prompted enough questions of it’s own; Do I really want to be careful, if he’s so sure of himself…?

*** It was strange, being on a building site with a bunch of guys. Usually they would just build away and you’d either get called in when it was time to get a bit more aesthetic, or if they couldn’t read something on your plan and problems were about to occur. That of course meant you’d be back in the office drawing. But this was your house. So you wanted to watch it grow, to spec, every step of the way. You just did your actual work a little later in the evening, and you were on call in case anyone urgently needed you for something. But none of your current clients had particularly strenuous deadlines so you were fine doing this as you wanted. It meant you got to come face to face with Vince Kovac and his risqué banter every day. Which amused you, because you decided that you could completely shut him down... or you could just serve that banter right back. And the more you did that, the more it turned into something a little more like flirting. Today as you stepped into your car, you were wearing heeled boots figure hugging jeans a white shirt and leather jacket. And that didn’t really bother you too much until you decided to check your make up in the mirror. And then you realised that none of the decisions were subconscious. “Shit!!!” You pressed a hand to your mouth and sat back in your car seat “...Y/N! NO!!!” You slumped against the steering wheel with a cry; “Oh you’ve done it now.” How he’d got you, you didn’t know. Sure he was attractive, but Vince was such a lad for a grown up man. Builder covered it nicely. But there was something about that banter - and something curious enough in you to find out whether that was all it was. If he was a paper-thin framework. Call his bluff and he’d back down? Or call his bluff and you’d find yourself pinned in the back of that truck? Interested enough to realise that you’d worn this outfit and you’d worn make up to a building site simply on principle that you would be seeing Vince today...

Idiot...! You had a crush, and probably a stupid crush to have considering how closely you worked together - but a crush none the less. Could you afford to put that crush to the test? To see how far you could really push him. Part of you certainly wanted that. You’d met men a little like him, that same overconfident cocky outward attitude, but never a man so implicitly forward. You wondered if that was his usual style, or if he was simply trying to keep that professional surface with you. Maybe neither, maybe he was just interested in flirting with as many women as he could, maybe that gave him a little bit of power. But then, you wanted to find out if that were true, too. So you drove yourself in, and sure enough the red Kovac Construction truck was sitting on your drive before you got there. It was a competition now, who was going to get there first. You shook your head with a smile and parked behind him, hopping out of your car.

Vince heard you coming of course and was wandering out of the shell of the house they were building before you were even on the ground; “Heels?! To a construction site?!” He called over “You didn’t have to dress up just for me, Darlin’!!” “I didn’t!” you did. You wandered across the grass, shouldering your bag. “Still not running here then, Kovac?” There was a grin on his face every time you addressed him by his last name that you kinda liked seeing, so you did it often when you attempted to tease him. “Aw, no, you don’t want me to arrive like that. I need to look my best on site, dontcha know?” “Oh, is that what you call it?” He placed his hands on his hips “Yeah... gotta build up nice and slow to where you get to see me all hot and sweaty, that’s for sure. Don’t worry...” he pointed at you with the paper in his hand “I’m sure we’ll get there.” “Oh. Can’t wait.” His voice dropped lower; “No I bet...” that smirk was back, and he let it linger between you for a while before jerking his head over his shoulder. “Come on. Let me show you what on your little plan we’ll get done today...” “Efficient, If I do say so myself...” You gave an approving nod “Well, I do try to have all bases covered... a little efficiency never hurt anyone... I tend to find my way around things...” You watched his face carefully - still not talking about a building site are we - and folded your arms with your voice edging disbelief; “uh huh.”

As expected from when you had started drawing your ‘dream house’; Vince needed you on site nearly constantly to re-draw or re-plan aspects. And also shake his head at you, point to something and declare it wasn’t architectural short hand. 99% of the time it was, and you took offence; but sometimes you had -isms you’d come up with yourself. Anyone who was used to working with you knew what they meant; you had to realise the men of Kovac Construction would not. And this was a mild-dream house; one where you’d actually thought of the constraints of modern living! He was lucky. But had constraints of his own - namely actual building techniques.

But he had reasons of his own to like telling you to redraw something. And revelled in ever minutia of detail where he got to suck in a breath and tell you he couldn’t do it. That more than once earned him quick witted retaliation about just skipping it, but more often than not had you bent over a table to redesign something. And that always happened to coincide with Vince’s tea and coffee breaks so that he could stand in the doorway and watch you. Which of course had nothing to do with you working. More so he could stare at your ass and fantasise about what it would be like to bend you over that table and do what he really wanted to do. But you always looked good. And he noticed that you always wore clothing just tight enough or... just short enough to give him a little buzz. Seen as that had changed slowly the more banter you had exchanged there was little doubt in his mind that you were dressing like this for him. And he’d given you enough hints about the kind of man he was.

And you knew he wasn’t watching you draw. If he wanted to watch you draw, he’d be closer. This wasn’t a “how do architects do their thing!?” type staring that curious people usually got as you sat there with mathematical measuring tools - oh no - this was keep 20 paces away and hope she doesn’t notice what you’re doing, staring. So this time you placed your pencil down and turned around to him. “You’re gonna get a better view from over here...” He took a sip from his mug and quirked an eyebrow “My view is perfect; thanks.” “... Kovac! Get the hell out of here!” “I could get off the site, and you wouldn’t get any work done.” “Well it’s clear you’re not here for my drawing, so as far as I’m concerned you don’t need to be here.” “Don’t you wanna know?” “Know what?!” He smirked into his drink “Why I am here.” “I got a pretty good idea.” “Oh, I can stare at you for all it’s worth - but really I like seeing you have to bend over that little table to correct something I told you to.” That was more than just admittance of fantasising; he’d added those last four words on purpose... Like what he would like was you to be in this position for him because he’d told you too. That only made you stand up and fold your arms. But because of the shirt you were wearing he still wasn’t complaining about this view. “You wanna try that one again.” He took a significant gulp of coffee; “Well, I could also clear the table and bend you over it from this angle if you’d prefer… And I’d quite like too.” Your tongue pressed into your bottom lip, and you looked to the floor for a minute, your face read that you were less than impressed, but your eyebrows raised; “I’d hope so… things like that can get messy ,and I really wouldn’t like to ruin my drawings…” Suddenly his mug found the floor and he took the first five paces – until your held your hand up, and then pointed back to the door frame he’d just walked through: “Get back to work.” “I’m on break!” “How is that going to get anything done - I’m working on the changes - go make yourself useful on your construction site! I have to review you after, you know that too.” “Trust me,” Vince winked to let you know he once again wasn’t talking about building; “you’ll only be giving me the best reviews...” *** The tit-for-tat continued like this and a few days later when nearly all his construction workers were in to finish the ceiling off - and he was half way up scaffolding no less - you decided it was the optimum time to get him back. Sauntering into the room you didn’t think you could have a bigger smirk on your face. You had a harder time keeping it straight when you even thought about what you were going to say, let alone getting it out of your mouth. A few of the workers had already spotted the look and nudged each other; knowing something big was coming.

You’d noticed how cut he was before; that wasn’t hard he used the majority of his muscle groups building or climbing things around here - but you’d also seen him run here on more than one occasion (after you’d mentioned how much he didn’t, no less). You didn’t know exactly where he lived, but you thought he was proving to you he could do it too. And his shirt stuck to him where it was soaked in sweat was easier on the eyes than he usually was. Usually he was covered in dust and building debris – but at least he looked like a man who worked for a living… Was that supposed to turn you on as much as it did? You know he knew how much you watched him when you were supposed to be doing your own work… He didn’t look like any of the men you worked with, sleeves rolled up pouring over every detail in every sketch, and certainly like none of the pretty city boys you were used to mixing with. But his back muscles through his shirt from this angle were something else... and if Vince stared at your ass for as long as you thought he did, you had plenty of reason to stare at his too.

And there was no way you were about to be subtle about this.

You whistled; in a manner you thought these boys might be used to (considering the building site/pretty girl stereotype) and folded your arms - still with that brilliant smirk. “Shit! I don’t even think as an architect I could draw something as fine as your ass-!” You nearly regretted it as he slipped; caught by the harness - his crew weren’t howling with laughter at that, though. But all your ballsy blurt out. Vince turned at you, blue eyes wide and mouth agape. Which almost surprised you, with the way he’d been going at it you thought he’d appreciate a little comment by you. Gratuitous or not. “I didn’t think something so dirty could come out of a mouth like that!” You gave him quite possibly your sweetest smile; “Why don’t you see what else you can make come out of it… Kovac?” That only had everyone laughing harder, and they completely missed his expressional change – which had your heart skipping beats. Dare ya to make me. *** Eventually you got frustrated - and you couldn’t take any more of this teasing without any action; and it was no longer about overtly sexual flirting. Now him staring at you whilst you fixed another ‘mistake’ was pissing you off. You slammed your pencil down on the table and whirled around to him – he didn’t even need to be here anymore, the rest of his crew had already clocked out. “Vince! Geez! For Godssake I can’t take this!! I will you stop saying this shit and actually DO something about it?!” He stopped chuckling to himself, and there were five seconds where his eyes looked between yours to try and gauge how serious you were. And you were, and the look in your eyes was fierce. So he took the step forward, yanking you to him as soon as he could get a grip on any part of your body. Vince was at the top end of five foot and he towered over you when he was this close, when his hands were in your hair and you could taste him on your tongue. You had to put your hand out to steady yourself as he backed you into the table. You were lost in the way he was kissing you. You didn’t think you’d ever been kissed like this, you didn’t think a man had ever wanted you so bad he’d needed to kiss you like this. Vince kept your body in and tight to his; his hands on either side of your face, not quite running into your hair – as he bent you back over the table; it wasn’t long until you were forced to sit on it; considering your feet left the floor, and then you decided you would tangle your fingers in his hair instead. You’d both barely taken a breath and still he continued to fiercely make out with you. But his sudden sharp breath nearly made you jump and he pulled himself way from you. “Shit!” he backed up and turned away; “F**k! F**k! F**k! F**k! F**k! NO… No, no, no, no, no!” You straightened up and raised an eyebrow at him; what had just happened? He turned back to you for a minute “I’m so sorry!” “…Sorry!?” You let him know you thought he was crazy; wasn’t this literally what you both wanted to do-!? You didn’t think the both of you flirting the way you had been was ever supposed to lead anywhere else. “Yeah I… We can’t do this.” “We can’t!?” “No… I can’t have this happen to you… F**K! If they find out, they’ll tell you everything… F**k!” “…Who?” “I dunno…” Vince gave a shrug with his whole body “…Anyone who knows!” “Knows what? Vince… You can’t just tell me half a story!” Also you wondered why he thought you cared. “Cuz you don’t look like the kind of girl who is just going to let me f**k you and leave.” “…Well…We will still have to work together…” But he didn’t mean that, Vince Kovac was looking at you like a serious relationship. “…Well if I was gonna do that, I would have done it by now.” “Figured you might wait until we finished the house…” He ran his hands over his face and through his hair; “You don’t deserve it… Frankly… So… I… Need to tell ya. Before they do.” You leant forward, quite frankly this man was nearly a complete mystery, and you felt nothing he was about to tell you would come as a surprise. But you didn’t say anything. “Well… Let’s start with the fact I’m divorced.” He lost you immediately, and you looked behind you to the table; “…Well… I wasn’t exactly looking for a marriage proposal…” all you really wanted him to do was bend you back over this table – well, maybe you’d prefer to move all the papers on it… But still, that’s what you thought you were both doing… Where did marriage factor here? “Yeah, but it’s the reason we divorced that they’re gonna tell you about.” That meant he did something, that’s the only thing he was saying. “…Right…” “F**k. Y/N… I…” Clearly, he wanted a serious emotional reaction from you by the way he stepped forward; and his voice rose to a level of anger. You didn’t have anything to be mad at yet… “…I cheated on her.” Your mouth opened, but you didn’t say anything. There was a nice level of awkward silence as you started to figure Vince Kovac out. What he said was bad enough. What he was saying was almost worse. He had no reason to tell you that. Absolutely zero. He could have you right here and right now on the table you sat on, and have it mean virtually nothing and have no consequences. Maybe you’d do it again, a few more times. And you’d be a casual love affair with barely one string attached. No. Vince Kovac was telling you he was a divorcee and a cheater (the cheater was the big one.) because he saw something here. He wasn’t looking to casually f*ck you when he wanted to. He was looking for a relationsh- You couldn’t even say it to yourself. Vince Kovac admitted he was a cheater, because he was telling you he could do it again. And the only reason he wanted to tell you that, was because he wanted to stop this before it started. He wanted you to turn away from him in disgust before he could take so much as your jacket off… It was a startling amount to process all at once. And you had two choices, you cared. Or you didn’t. And either way what kind of woman would that make you. “What do you want me to say?” He took a hesitant step back, and there was anything but confidence in those blue eyes “I…” “You either want me to say I don’t care – and I do. Or you want me to tell you I want you to leave… And I don’t.” You slipped off the table “…What you’re telling me this for can only be one reason…” You folded your arms “You want to be more than just the guy who is building my house. And you want me to be more than just the girl you casually sleep with whenever you see her.” He held silent. “So how about I field you the ‘are you single’ question to make sure I’m not the home wreaker here.” “…Yes…” “And are you looking for something serious? Or just a girl to fu-” “Yes.” You were a few paces from him now, and suddenly you seemed a lot taller, and you were fixing him with a hard stare that he felt was cutting him to his soul; probably what he deserved. “Then what the f**k are you playing at?” “…I’m telling you the kind of man I am.” Finally, a sentence that was said strong. “Ah.” You shook your head “No. You’re not. You’re telling me the kind of man you were - would he have told me that?” Your next step forward made Vince concede one; “Tell me you learned something.” “I still think I am.” You shook your head, “No. You’re doing this wrong. Don’t tell me who you think you are. Vince Kovac, show me who you really are.”

---

@dennismitchell @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad. @3134045126 @kylo-ren-has-an-8pack Figured I might have got a Vince Kovac crew...?

#I mean he had me at running. Cuz i've been waiting for that.#BUT he also had me at gymnastics.#like the attitude?#I shouldn't REALLY love him #but here it goes #Triplets? PNV #Vince Kovac #Tangle #Vince Kovac x Reader #Ben Mendelsohn #Jax babe this is ALL on you #Lyric #67 #Team 2009 #PNVJ

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florablume · 4 years

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Character Development Questions

Part 1: The Basics

What is your full name? Flora Elizabeth Blume

Where and when were you born? San Francisco, California on April 4th 1978

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.) My mother is Joanne Blume, a retired teacher who isn’t ever afraid to say exactly what she thinks. She has little to no filter, which has made for many an awkward conversation in the past. My father is Richard Blume, a retired accountant. He’s proud, probably too proud sometimes, and occasionally outspoken. Apparently I’m the most like him out of his three daughters.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like? I have two younger sisters - Pippa and Sam. I get on with Pippa the most, probably because our personalities don’t clash so much. We’ve always been able to open up to each other about a lot of things. Sam and I butt heads a lot and we always have done. I’ve always just assumed it’s because I’m the oldest and she’s the youngest, but who knows.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people. I live on Manhattan’s Upper East Side in New York City, with Henry and our son Finley. Henry and I have been through a lot together - we’re not married but we act like we are. The apartment is Henry’s and we’ve lived there as a family for about a year almost.

What is your occupation? I’m a Nurse Practitioner

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye colour, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks. I’m about five foot one, so not exactly blessed with height. I don’t make a habit of weighing myself, but I’d say I’m about average for a woman of my height. I’m caucasian with brown hair and brown eyes, and a few freckles all over my skin. I enjoy a floral print, and I’m probably more comfortable in dresses and skirts than trousers, although at work I don’t have much of a choice. No tattoos, but I do have a couple of piercings - ears and my naval (don’t ask). I have a small scar in my right eyebrow, and a couple of marks on my back from past scrapes.

To which social class do you belong? If you’d asked me this a year ago, I would’ve said working to middle class, but I’m not too sure any more.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses? No allergies as far as I’m aware. No diseases or physical weaknesses - I’m in (near) perfect shape.

Are you right- or left-handed? Right-handed

What does your voice sound like? Like my voice? I don’t really know how to describe it. (Cue Henry shouting “whiny” in the distance)

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently? Too many terms of endearment probably. I use them a lot at work and that’s bled into my home life. I probably roll my eyes way too much as well.

What do you have in your pockets? Nothing because I don’t have any. You can thank the manufacturers of women’s clothing for that.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics? As far as I’m aware, no. You’re probably better asking Henry or Fin this question, although I dread what that answer would be.

Part 2: Growing Up

How would you describe your childhood in general? Wonderful. I had a really happy childhood and I know how lucky I was to have two very loving parents. They couldn’t have done any more for us than they did.

What is your earliest memory? The day Sam was born. I remember us going to visit my mom in the hospital, and my dad left me in charge of Pip while he went to get my mom some flowers. I remember feeling so grown up being an older sister a second time.

How much schooling have you had? All of it - all the way to undergrad at college at least anyway.

Did you enjoy school? Yeah, I liked it. I enjoyed learning a lot when I was a kid, and I still do.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities? Through working. Studying nursing is one thing, but it’s a whole different ball game once you start on the job. You learn things that can’t be taught in a classroom.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them. Probably my dad. He was always so hardworking and I knew I wanted to be like that when I grew up. Sometimes I thought he put a little too much into his work, and he could’ve spent more time with us, but I suppose all he wanted to do was provide for his family and I respect that.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family? I got on pretty well with most of my family. Sam was the only one I really butted heads with. We’re just like polar opposites in some ways, but then we’re both really stubborn too. She thinks I boss her around too much, and I think she needs to take more responsibility for herself. We’re still like this with each other now.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I honestly can’t remember. Probably a teacher because my mom was one, and it was the only job I’d ever really come into contact with.

As a child, what were your favourite activities? I played with dolls a lot, and me and my sisters would always make up games together. Embarrassingly, we’d sometimes make up dance routines to show my parents. Thank god there’s no video evidence of that.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display? Bossiness was the main one, which I dispute to this day, but everyone tells me I’m wrong. I was also pretty protective of my sisters too, always helping them whenever they fell over or got into any kind of scrape. I didn’t like seeing them hurt.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like? Not really, no. I had a few close friends when I was a kid, but I think Pip was definitely the popular one out of the three of us. The friends I had lasted all the way through to high school though - Lillian, Maggie and Kathryn. I still see them every now and again.

When and with whom was your first kiss? I think I was about thirteen or something. It was with some guy at school that I thought I liked. It was awful, just like a first kiss is meant to be because neither of you has a clue what you’re doing.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity? No. I don’t remember a lot about my first time if I’m completely honest. I was at college and I just wanted to get it out of the way so I was pretty drunk when it actually happened. I don’t even remember the guy’s name...

Part 3: Past Influences

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? Giving birth to Finley.

Who has had the most influence on you? Probably Henry and Fin, both for very different reasons. I changed a lot after I first met Henry, and becoming a mom has probably changed me the most throughout my whole life.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Raising Finley in a safe and stable home, and being able to watch him grow up.

What is your greatest regret? Not telling Henry how much I loved him before he left all those years ago. If I could change one thing in my life, that would be it.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done? I don’t think I’ve ever done anything evil. Does elbowing Henry in the balls to get out of watching a horror film count? If so, then that.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind? A small one, from stupid behaviour in my twenties.

When was the time you were the most frightened? When they first took me into the House. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my whole life.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? I can think of a million embarrassing things that have happened to me - most involving Henry.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? Borrowing money from a loan shark while I was in college was a very stupid thing to do. But then, if I hadn’t done that stupid thing I might never have met Henry, so I probably wouldn’t change that. I’d change the moment when I decided not to tell him that I loved him.

What is your best memory? I have two - the first time I ever held Fin, and the year that Henry decided to spend Christmas in Florida instead of with his family.

What is your worst memory? There are way too many to recall from living in the House. We’d be here all day.

Part 4: Beliefs And Opinions

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic? Optimist.

What is your greatest fear? Losing Henry or Fin.

What are your religious views? I’m Christian, but non-practicing.

What are your political views? Liberal.

What are your views on sex? It’s great?

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable? My gut response is no, but if someone put anyone I care about in danger then that answer would quickly change to yes. I wouldn’t ever say it’s acceptable, but I’d do anything to protect the people I love.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do? I mean, murder is the obvious answer.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? Sort of, I think. I believe in love and I think that’s enough to believe in.

What do you believe makes a successful life? Honesty, loyalty and having a strong and loving family around you, whether you come from one or you have to build your own from scratch.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? I’ve been told that I’m a bad liar, so I’d say I’m pretty honest about most things.

Do you have any biases or prejudices? Not any more, I don’t think so. Well. Maybe a little. Some rich people are still snooty and up their own asses, the Dunnes excluded.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it? I can think of one thing that I keep refusing to do, but I might be slowly coming around to it. I don’t know. I can’t decide. GAH.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)? Henry and Fin, without question.

Part 5: Relationships With Others

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how? I’d like to think I treat everyone politely. I wouldn’t ever want to make anyone feel uncomfortable (unless your name is Jen Breslin).

Who is the most important person in your life, and why? Finley, because he’s my son. Henry and I have to put him first all the time.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why? My mom. She’s put up with my dad for over forty years and she probably deserves a medal for that. She’s also so easy-going about everything and I don’t know how she does it.

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people. I still keep in touch with my old school friends. We don’t see each other as often as we’d like because we all live in different states now, but we try. I have a few friends at work who I’ll sometimes socialise with, but I wouldn’t say I have a ‘best’ friend.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person. I do, Henry - very attractive and mostly very annoying but I love him a lot. We spend most of our lives bickering over stupid things but that’s kind of our thing now. I wouldn’t change what we have for anything else.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened. Already in love and it’s going pretty well.

What do you look for in a potential lover? I have no idea how to answer this question without me just describing Henry.

How close are you to your family? Pretty close. I don’t see them nearly as much as I’d like to because we live at opposite ends of the country, but we see each other as much as we can.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not? Yeah, it’s just me, Henry and Fin at the moment. Not that we’re planning to expand any more.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help? I’m the idiot who chooses not to turn to anyone because she’s stubborn and thinks she can handle it. I would probably turn to Henry though.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why? Henry. He’s done it in the past and I’ve never had a reason not to trust him.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you? My whole family, I hope.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why? I don’t despise anyone. Jen Breslin.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict? I’ll be honest, I tend to argue. I’m not always very good at avoiding conflict because I like to make my opinion known. Because, let’s be honest, I’m usually right.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations? That depends. I won’t dub myself leader if I have no idea what I’m doing. Surprisingly I’m good at taking orders sometimes.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not? Depends on the people. I’ll do it if I have to, and I’ll always be polite, but I don’t like having to stand and listen to someone drone on about something I’m not interested in (which is what most of Henry’s mom’s dinner parties have involved...) If it’s family then I’m happy to be in a big group of them.

Do you care what others think of you? Unfortunately, yeah, I do. I know I shouldn’t care.

Part 6: Likes And Dislikes

What is/are your favourite hobbies and pastimes? I like gardening, although I don’t have anywhere to do that in New York. I also like reading, going for walks, watching movies, dancing badly to whatever’s on the radio.

What is your most treasured possession? A necklace my mom gave me when I was sixteen that had belonged to my grandma. I don’t really wear it much because I’m so scared of losing it or breaking it.

What is your favourite colour? Pink

What is your favourite food? Lemon cheesecake

What, if anything, do you like to read? I like thriller novels, and I love a good romance one too.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit? Don’t smoke, occasionally drink, and I’ve never taken drugs. I’ve never been interested in smoking or drugs, and I can definitely say that I never will be.

How do you spend a typical Saturday night? Sprawled out on top of Henry, forcing him to watch Dirty Dancing for the hundredth time. If Finley is out then we’d probably spend all night having sex, I’m not gonna lie.

What makes you laugh? Stupid things like people falling over - as long as they don’t actually get hurt. Successfully winding Henry up makes me laugh to.

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself? I’d probably be boring and just read a book or do a puzzle or something.

How do you deal with stress? I’d like to think I deal with it pretty well. My job is quite stress-filled, but I try to stay as calm as possible. Freaking out isn’t going to do anyone any good.

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan? A bit of both. I like to be organised in life, but I don’t want to plan every second of every day out. I need some spontaneity for life to be exciting.

What are your pet peeves? Anything unhygienic is a no-no for me. Like people who don’t wash their hands? Gross.

Part 7: Self Images And Etc.

What is your greatest strength as a person? I like to think I’m quite resilient and adaptable.

What is your greatest weakness? Always putting everyone else before myself.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? To be a little less argumentative and stubborn.

Are you generally introverted or extroverted? I actually think I’m a healthy mix of both. Maybe a tad more extroverted.

Are you generally organised or messy? Always organised.

Do you like yourself? Mostly, yeah.

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime? I’ve sort of already achieved my main goal in life. I always wanted to have a family of my own and I have that. If it got a little bigger then I wouldn’t mind that, but I’m not sure if that will happen.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Dealing with a terrible teenager.

If you could choose, how would you want to die? Peacefully, in my sleep, when I’m very very old.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death? Being a good mom. Helping people as much as I could. Drinking way too much coffee.

What three words best describe your personality? Affectionate, protective, intelligent.

What three words would others probably use to describe you? Stubborn, dramatic, smothering.

#cd #𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕤𝕞𝕤 [ headcanons ]#now i sleep

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