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finalgirlfae · 11 months

Note

Can you write something where reader meets Mile’s parents for the first time as his gf?And they get along well:,))

meeting the parents, miles morales

genre: fluff

pairings: miles morales x fem reader

summary: you meet miles’ parents as his official girlfriend for the first time

notes: in my head the reader is afro latina like miles, and also my spanish is rough so bare with me for a second. also since people love to argue with me; before y'all start yes i know what the song is about🤗

“MILES i’m shitting bricks right now i’m so nervous.” you spoke to your boyfriend over facetime. two and a half months on a random new york city rooftop while the sun set, miles had asked you to be his girlfriend- officially. the two of you had been talking for about two months before he asked and now it was time for inevitable turning point in every relationship; meeting the parents.

you should be happy you made it this far! guys suck, but guys in new york city? they sucked even worse. so to meet a great guy who really liked you and wanted to introduce you to his parents was a major win. but there was a feeling eating at you, one that terrified you. what if his parents didn’t like you?

“what if i call platainos plantain and she tells me to get out of her house? i’m so scared-”

“baby, baby,” miles spoke from the phone on your dresser. you could hear the bustle of city traffic around him. “tómalo con calma mami, okay? you gotta relax.”

“tómalo con calma” you mimicked, “miles how can you tell me to take it easy? this is literally more stressful than our chem test last week.”

you heard miles wince over the phone. “you’re that nervous? yikes.”

you ran over to your phone and picked it up in panic. “what do you mean yikes??”

“nothing. look i’m outside, buzz me in.”

you sighed and walked out of your room to the living space, pressing the buzzer to open the door. miles would be up here in a minute and then you’d be on your way to meet his parents. his mom was making lunch for everyone.

you moved over to the mirror in your living room and gave yourself a good look, you didn’t want a single hair out of place when you met them. it was a warmer summer afternoon with the sun high in the sky, not a single cloud was in sight. to compensate the hot weather, you wore a faded green tank top with butterflies decorated on it with a clear quartz crystal necklace and denim skirt. your hair was in a ponytail, coils bunched tightly together and edges laid perfectly. you went over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door and getting the small bouquet of flowers you had bought for miles’ mom. they were pink and yellow tulips; her favorite according to miles.

when the door bell run you walked over, opening it to reveal your boyfriend. “hey baby.” he spoke, stepping into the apartment.

“hello my love.” you wrapped an arm around his waist, bringing the boy closer to you and leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss. he smiled down at you, wrapping arms around your body and bringing you into another kiss. when you both pulled away he looked you up and down. “you look beautiful baby, those for me?” he joked, pointing at the flowers.

“thank you but no.” you gave him the flowers to hold and slipped on some air force ones, “these are for your mom.”

he gave you a big smile, kissing your temple. “that’s so sweet! very thoughtful, baby. she’s gonna love them- and you, let’s go.”

you couldn’t even respond before miles hand was wrapped around your wrist, tugging you wearily out of your new york city apartment. he barely gave you enough time to grab your purse before you two were walking down the street to the 2 train. five stops later you were walking out the station and to his apartment building.

“miles i’m scared.” you grimaced as you made your way into the elevator. he held your hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “there is nothing to be afraid of mi querida.”

“qué pasa si a ellas no les gusto?”

miles only sighed at your question. “ellos van a. even on the impossible chance they don’t it wouldn’t matter to me, i like you.”

a small smile spread on your face. “you know you’re so corny right? you got no game.” you laughed as the elevator dinged and the door opened.

“yeah but i still pulled you didn’t i?” he asked, smirking to himself and holding your hand as you walked down to his apartment. your heart was beating out of your chest.

“aye aye,” miles turned to you. fuck, you forgot he could hear things like that. “mi amor, estará ben. breathe, okay? they’re just people.”

“yeah cariño but they’re your people. it’s important to me how this lunch goes.”

he smiled and kissed your cheek. “me too. let’s go.” miles used the hand that wasn’t in your to find his keys. he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. immediately your nose was hit with the smell of delicious food. there was music playing from the stereo under the tv, a song you recognized.

"mom, dad! estamos en casa!" he called out as he stepped out of his shoes. you did the same and hung your purse on a coat hook before taking the flowers from miles, he had held them on the way over.

a few seconds later his parents walked into the living room. miles nudged you and you walked over to meet them. "mom, dad, this is my girlfriend. y/n."

"hello." you smiled. "it's nice to meet you lieutenant and mrs morales." you shook his dad's hand before turning to his mom. "mrs. morales, these are for you." you handed her the bouquet and watched the smile spread on her face as she took them. she brought you into a hug, "it's nice to meet you too sweetheart, i've heard a lot about you."

when you two pulled away from the hug you could almost feel miles' smile, he knew that she'd like you. “y/n why don’t you sit down and miles you come help me bring the food out.”

“i can help you, ma’am."

she looked at you for a second before nodding. "thank you! the kitchen's that way." she pointed. you nodded and began walking. rio turned to look at miles, mouthing "she's very pretty" before following you into the kitchen. when you were both there miles and his father walked to set the table.

"so.." miles began. "what do you think?"

"i'm happy she's not white." his dad laughed, smacking his arm and making miles give him a face. he knew he was talking about his past situationship type thing with gwen. "come on dad seriously, what do you think of her?"

his dad placed down four glasses. "i think she's very nice, very pretty and well mannered. nice job."

you and rio walked back into the kitchen, both holding pots and pans.

"what did you make mami?" miles asked, pulling out a chair for you. when you sat down he smiled and pushed it in before sitting next to you. across from you two were his parents.

"i made mofongo, arroz con gandules, alcapurrias and some tostones. oh, and for dessert i made some quesitos."

"i love quesitos!" you exclaimed. she smiled at you. "i know, miles told me. you're panamanian, right?" she asked, sitting across from you and beginning to serve you some mofongo.

you nodded, thanking her and placing a napkin on your lap. "yeah, on my dad's side."

"what does your dad do?" lieutenant morales asked as he began to eat.

"he used to work nypd but he retired a few years ago, 20 years."

his dad nodded, seeming impressed.

as you began to ease into their presence, you eased into the conversation as well. everything felt so natural and soon all your fears were alleviated. miles parents were really nice and also funny as hell. besides that they were genuinely good people and you could understand why miles turned out to be the wonderful person he is. he had great role models.

as the meal winded down miles mom brought out two dozen fresh baked quesitos with powdered sugar on top. "careful." she said to you. "you might have to fight miles for them. his appetite has been insatiable lately."

you and miles both looked at each other, stifling laughter. just as you were about to respond the stereo distracted you.

un matrimonio africano esclavos de un el les daba muy mal trato

ya su negra le pegó español

"oh my god." you spoke standing up. all three of them looked at you. "what?"

el les daba muy mal trato y a su negra le pegó

"me encanta esta canción!" you grabbed miles' hands and pulled him into the living room.

y fue allí, se reveló el negro guapo tomó venganza por su amor yaún se escucha en la verja no le pegue a mi negra

as the music played, you and miles began to salsa dance around the living room. "you know for a superhero who's thing is being acrobatic, you're a surprisingly bad dancer." you teased, making sure to whisper.

no le pegue a la negra no le pegue a la negra

oye man no le pegue a la negra

miles sucked his teeth, "my thing is webs."

you gigled, "i bet you shoot them out your trasero."

"man shut up." miles laughed, grabbing your hands and doing a roomba as he spun you, "see," he asked, hands going back to your waist, "i ain't too bad."

lleva la cadena lleva la cadena

"you stole that move from me!" his dad exclaimed, pulling rio in by her waist and beginning to dance beside you two. the rest of the night was filled with dancing, laughter and conversation. it's safe to say miles' parents liked you, and that'd you'd be welcome for many more meals at the morales house.

#fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales #request #faes requests #across the spiderverse

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backtothefanfiction · 6 months

Text

I’ve got you | tasm!peter

Warnings: fear of heights, (this is just fluff)

Word Count: Definitely under 1k (I just wrote this in app so don’t know for sure)

A/N: literally just a quick little imagine that’s in my head before I sleep. Enjoy.

You held your eyes shut tight. You could feel his hands still tentatively braced on your hip and lower back as the wind whipped around the two of you.

You knew you were high just from the fact that the sound of the traffic logged streets of New York below you, sounded so far away.

“Baby, open your eyes.” He encouraged.

You shook your head. “No.”

“I promise I got you. Just open your eyes and look at the view.” You shook your head again and his hands grew firmer. “I promise I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.” He said in a more serious tone. But your butt wobbled, your legs felt like jelly, toes dangling off the very edge of the building you both stood atop.

Your hand flailed about in the air, looking for his and he quickly raced to put his gloved hand in yours. Your fingers gripped tight to the familiar fabric, thumb brushing soothingly across the ribbed web texture over his fingers. You breathed deeply, counting to ten in your head. ‘You can do this. Peter’s Spider-Man, you’re safe. He does this every day. You can do this.’ You repeated in your head.

As if he could tell you were trying to psych yourself up, to finally bite the bullet and open your eyes, his voice came softly in your ear. “I’m gonna count to three okay and on three you’re gonna-“

“Open my eyes.” You finish.

“That’s my girl. Come on… Ready?” You gave a small nod, your other hand moving to hold his hand around your waist steady, making sure he wasn’t gonna let you go, just in case. “1…2…3!”

You forced yourself to open your eyes. You wobbled as you let out a little gasp but he held you steady.

“Look out, not down.” He advised and you silently nodded. You may now have use of your eyes, but it came at the cost of your voice. “You okay?” He asked. You slowly nodded, your lips held tightly together. “You wanna get down?” He asked, taking in the look of terror on your face. You nodded harder. He chuckled. “Okay. Hold tight Spider Monkey.” He said as he wrapped his arm tightly around you, your own arms holding firmly around his neck as you screwed your eyes up tight.

When he set you back down on the floor 30 seconds later, you struggled to let go.

“Was it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhmm.” You nodded as you began to pry yourself off him. “Yeah, no. Nope, I don’t wanna do that again.”

“But you like swing?” He questioned.

“I like the feeling, don’t like looking.” You confirmed.

“Okay.” He noted. “So… do you wanna go get some ice cream?” He asked.

“Yeessss!” You sighed with relief, eager to put the experience behind you and replace it with something good. “But can we walk, I think I’ve had enough of being… up there, for the day” you say pointing upwards at the surrounding skyscrapers.

“Yeah, okay.” He sighs but you know he’s smiling under his mask.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #one shot #imagine #Spider-Man imagine

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weemssapphic · 7 months

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Hi how are you? I hope well! so i really like your writing actually ur my fav writer here on tumblr ;). So i had this idea for a fanfic by Miranda Hilmarson x reader. It was about Miranda being a traffic cop sometimes too and then she ends up giving the reader a ticket in one day and the reader gets really mad and even fights with Miranda, and then they end up meeting again, but what Miranda didn't know was that the reader would be her new boss!! From there I leave it to you, it can even be an enemies to lovers, you know.

I just had this silly idea, maybe you'll like it and I'd be super happy if you wrote it.💗

another thing! English is not my language, I'm literally writing this through Google translator so if something seems strange to you, you already know ☠️

A/N: thank you sooo much, that is so kind of you! I really liked this request and enjoyed writing it - it's my first time writing for Miranda so I really hope it's okay <3 just gonna post this and go hide now ahhhh

not your fault

Words: ~7.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: slight enemies to lovers, mentions of Adrian Butler (ugh), reader has a temper - poor Miranda is on the receiving end, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, employee-boss relationship, angry Miranda, but also adorable puppy Miranda, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering, cunnilingus

“Are you fucking kidding me…” You groaned under your breath as you snatched up the little piece of paper stuck between your windshield wipers - a parking ticket. You were already running late thanks to your cat having puked all over your carpet that morning, and thanks to the barista at the coffee shop who’d taken ages with your latte - and now you were going to be even later.

You whipped your head around, looking for the officer who’d given you the ticket. A tall, blonde woman in a police uniform was strolling down the line of parked cars, handing out tickets to each one. The officer turned as you stomped over, eyes widening as you advanced on her until you were standing right in front of her. You had to crane your neck up to look at her - in any other situation, you might have found this insanely arousing, but right now you were far too pissed.

“Care to explain this?” You waved the paper in her face - she went slightly cross-eyed as her eyes followed your movements.

“Uh, that’s a parking ticket, ma’am.” The officer swallowed visibly, taking a step back.

“I park here every goddamn day,” you hissed.

“I’m sorry…” She seemed a bit dazed and distracted for a moment as she regarded you, her eyes darting between your own, before straightening her posture and clearing her throat. “There’s, uh, a festival downtown this weekend, they’ve closed most of the parking zones until it’s over. There’s a sign at the start of the road.” She nodded her head over to a single sign set up at the next intersection, one that you had clearly missed in your rush.

You were seething, a billion arguments ready on your tongue, but the clock was ticking - and in the end, she was right, no matter how pissed you were.

“You know what, fucking forget it. I’m already running late! Thanks for nothing.” You stomped back to your car and crumpled up the parking ticket, tossing it on the passenger seat and groaning in frustration - the officer stood rooted to the spot, watching as you drove away.

~~~

Not wanting to get a speeding ticket in addition to your parking ticket, you took your time driving to the police station for your first day on the job. You’d just moved to Sydney to replace Adrian Butler as he left his position to “focus on his marriage” - you hadn’t even started yet and had already heard rumors of his extramarital affair with a constable. Men are pigs, you thought as you strode into the station and took the elevator up to the third floor, half an hour later than you’d planned.

The room was buzzing when you walked in but as soon as you cleared your throat and made your presence known, everyone went silent.

“I’ll spare you all the usual ‘first day’ speech - you should know who I am. I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other well over the course of the coming weeks, but for now I already have my hands full with everything that Detective Sergeant Butler so generously left for me.”

Your eyes landed on an empty desk near the center of the room. “Who usually sits there? Are they out sick?”

Some of the men began to snicker - one in particular answered your question. “Oh, that’s Hilmarson.” He smirked and took a sip from his coffee mug as he leaned against the side of the copy machine.

You raised an eyebrow. “And? Where is Constable Hilmarson?”

The elevator doors opened behind you and you turned around, eyes widening as you were confronted with the tall, blonde officer who’d given you a ticket. Her own shocked expression mirrored yours.

“That’d be her.” The man - Constable Brown, you’d later come to learn - chuckled, his smirk widening.

“Constable.” You glared pointedly at Constable Hilmarson. “My office, now.”

She frowned and followed you to the small office at the side of the room. You closed the door behind her and took a seat behind your new desk, gesturing for the officer to sit. She scrambled rather clumsily towards the chair and sat down, looking like a child about to be reprimanded.

“Constable Hilmarson, is it? Miranda?” You regarded her carefully. Her cheeks were rosy with embarrassment, her eyes wide as saucers. And, God, were they blue. They were mesmerizing. Miranda bobbed her head up and down in answer to your question, a bit of her pale blonde hair falling in her eye. She raised a hand to her head, dragging long fingers through her hair to brush it back - you had to physically shake your head to stop yourself from getting distracted by her movements.

“I like to be prepared, Constable. So I was having a look at your file the other day, you see, and I was under the impression that you are currently on a homicide case with Detective Griffin. Or am I mistaken?”

“Yes - I mean, no, you’re not mistaken.” Miranda shook her head furiously.

“Then pray tell, Constable - why on earth did you spend your morning handing out fucking parking tickets?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice as you questioned Miranda - something about her was pissing you off (or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t even been able to drink your coffee yet), and you were having trouble reigning in your emotions.

Miranda’s face was bright red and her hands shook slightly. “I lost a bet,” she mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

“Louder.”

She cleared her throat, her eyes locking with yours. “I lost a bet. I had to take over Constable Brown’s duties for the morning.”

You sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not here to play games. Do you understand that?” Your voice was sickly sweet, bordering on condescension - it was not lost on Miranda, who was starting to look like she wanted to argue.

Evidently, she thought better of it at the last second, for she simply nodded as she glowered at you.

“You’re here to do your job, not Constable Brown’s job. And I expect you to do your job well. So, seeing as you’ve not only made me late, wasted your entire morning, and wasted even more of my time with this silly conversation, I would appreciate it if you could get to work. Now.”

Miranda stood abruptly, sending a stack of papers flying from your desk as she stormed from the room. You rubbed your temples, wincing at the force with which she closed the door behind her - you were already starting to develop a headache, and it wasn’t even 10 am.

~~~

As the morning went on, you found yourself growing more and more agitated, unable to focus on anything. You realized as your stomach growled for the fourth (or was it the fifth?) time that, in your rush, you’d skipped breakfast.

The second the clock hit 12 for your lunch break, you were on your feet. You’d have to work through much of your break to catch up, but you could afford to take a few minutes to grab a coffee and a granola bar from the vending machines in the lobby.

Passing by Miranda’s desk, you noticed that her chair was empty - the sight made your blood boil. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down - it was her lunch break, too, and she had every right to leave her desk during that time. Her messy, cluttered desk… You clenched your fists and headed for the elevator.

That wasn’t the only time her desk was empty, however. Throughout the afternoon, you would look up from your paperwork (you found that Adrian had been terrible at properly filing paperwork, making your job that much harder) every so often - and more times than not, the constable was nowhere in sight. With a frustrated sigh, you stood and strode over to open the window - you desperately needed the fresh air if you were going to make it home without strangling someone.

The sight of Miranda smoking a cigarette in the alley next to the station, just under your window, had you clenching your jaw, nostrils flaring. You couldn’t help yourself - you immediately headed towards the elevator and took rapid steps out of the station, rounding the corner and advancing on the constable, whose back was turned to you.

“Hilmarson!” you barked - Miranda flinched as she turned to face you.

“What did I do now? Am I not allowed to smoke or something?” She sounded agitated, and that made you even angrier.

“This is your fourth smoke break in the past two hours alone. If your habits are going to get in the way of your job, then I suggest you-”

“You know, you’re really stressing me out!” Miranda yelled back, gesticulating wildly as she spoke. “I’ll do my damned job, okay? You’re just really not making it easy.”

You laughed - it was hollow and sarcastic - and took a step closer to Miranda. Your face was inches away from hers now - this close, your eyes were drawn to her lips, soft and plush, trembling slightly with anger. A little scar adorned her top lip and your gaze lingered there for a moment, arousal pooling in your core - until Miranda brought the cigarette back to her mouth to take a drag.

Torn from your trance, you plucked it from her grip and dropped it to the ground, crushing it with your boot.

“Talk to me like that again and I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Now get back upstairs.”

Miranda pushed roughly past you, her shoulder bumping into yours as she headed back into the station. You leaned against the wall and let out a loud groan, your eyes fluttering shut. Why was Miranda determined to make your day as difficult as humanly possible?

With a heavy sigh, you opened your eyes and pushed off the wall, following the constable back inside.

~~~

Your second day on the job started out significantly better than your first. You managed to eat breakfast, get coffee, and make it to work on time, all without getting a parking ticket or arguing with a certain constable. Miranda had been at her desk when you’d walked past it and, mercifully, hadn’t said a word to you - though you could feel her eyes on you as you disappeared into your office.

When you left your office for your lunch break, you found the main office empty - you figured most of your officers were taking their lunch break as well. You strode over to the little kitchen, reaching for the handle when the door swung open in your face - your body colliding with a much taller one. You heard a gasp above you and looked up to see Miranda standing directly in front of you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock.

It was then that you realized your shirt suddenly felt a bit wet - your eyes fell to the half-empty bowl in Miranda’s hand, then to your torso, which was covered in milk and little pieces of cereal.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” you growled, pushing past Miranda and ignoring the apologies that poured profusely from her mouth. You grabbed a fistful of paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, quickly realizing that it was no use - you’d have to get changed.

You spun around when you felt a hand on your arm, glaring up at Miranda who looked down at you apprehensively. At your furious expression, she pulled her hand away as if burned. “Do you need help?”

Sighing, you closed your eyes and attempted to reign in your temper. “No,” you grit out. “It’s fine, you’ve done enough. I just have to go home to get changed, I guess.”

“Well if you don’t have a shirt with you then you can borrow mine?”

Your eyes flew open, meeting Miranda’s soft gaze before flickering down to her torso. “W-what?”

“I mean, I have an extra shirt in my locker.” Miranda gestured back towards the elevator with her thumb, a faint smirk playing upon her lips - the fact that you had just basically ogled her chest was not lost on her, apparently.

You could feel your cheeks turn red and you looked down at your own shirt, clinging to your chest - it had turned slightly see-through, and you could see your bra through the thin fabric. The drive home would cost you your entire lunch break, and Miranda did owe you for this… You sighed heavily.

“Yeah, sure.”

Miranda smiled, her eyes lighting up and crinkling at the outer corners - it was the first time you’d seen her properly smile, and it was beautiful. She crossed the kitchen and peered out the door into the office.

“The coast is clear,” she said with a grin, gesturing for you to follow her. You rolled your eyes and the two of you headed down to the empty locker rooms.

“I always bring something to change into after work,” Miranda supplied as she busied herself with opening her locker. “It might be a bit big on you but at least nobody will be able to see your bra.”

You started to unbutton your shirt, feeling Miranda’s eyes on you as you did so. It was hard to focus with the constable in such close proximity - you struggled with the buttons as you found yourself growing more and more flustered.

“Here, let me help,” she murmured, and before you could stop her, her hands were on the buttons of your shirt. Her fingers brushed against the swell of your chest, just above the fabric of your bra, and you shivered visibly, your mouth going dry.

“T-thanks but I got it,” you mumbled, gently pushing Miranda’s hand away. “Could you turn around?”

Miranda furrowed her brow, her face flushing. “Oh, sorry!” She placed a baby blue t-shirt on the bench next to you, then turned and studied the bare wall with great interest as you got changed.

“You can turn around again,” you said, clearing your throat. Miranda did as she was told, her eyes getting stuck on your chest for a moment before meeting your gaze. Your anger had all but dissipated, replaced with an unfamiliar and somewhat unsettling tension as you looked at Miranda, your stomach flipping.

“Uh, thanks,” you whispered. “For the shirt.”

Miranda’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yeah, of course. You know, I’m really excited to have another woman on the force. Last night I was looking into your case in Auckland before you got promoted - I talked to Robin about it, even she was impressed.”

For once, you were left speechless. For all the crap you’d given Miranda since meeting her, she seemed so genuine and excited to be speaking with you in that moment - you could feel yourself get flustered again, and all you could do was nod your head as she spoke.

“Oh, my lunch break is over so I have to go meet Robin but, uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded absentmindedly, stuck on the way Miranda’s hands moved as she spoke and the brightness of her eyes. She shot you one last grin before turning and taking long strides out of the locker rooms, leaving you to stand there in a daze, holding your wet shirt.

~~~

It was finally Friday and you’d been invited to go to the bar for drinks after work to celebrate the end of your first week - you stood in the lobby of the station, waiting for Robin to join your group before heading out.

Since the little cereal incident, you were trying to actively avoid thinking about, looking at, or talking to Miranda, but she was making that damned near impossible. When you’d returned her shirt back to her, freshly washed, she made sure to allow her fingers to brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. She wasn’t at her desk much throughout the day, off investigating leads with Robin, and for that you were grateful - but every time you saw her desk, littered with empty takeout containers, paperwork, coffee mugs, you felt a twinge of annoyance, followed by a sinking feeling of guilt that you couldn’t quite place. As a result, you spent much more time than you wanted sitting at your desk, dissecting your feelings for the blonde but coming up empty.

The door to the station opened and a civilian walked in with a small goldendoodle on a leash. A gasp sounded to your right and you couldn’t help yourself - your eyes followed the sound just in time to see Miranda crouch down and extend her arms towards the dog, which jumped excitedly up at her, trying to lick her face.

You couldn’t tell who was more excited about the interaction - Miranda, or the dog. The blonde was letting out little squeals of delight, cooing at the dog as she buried her fingers in its fur.

“Pull yourself together, Constable,” you grumbled, annoyed mostly at yourself for the way your stomach was reacting to the sight of Miranda cuddling the dog. It was childish and unprofessional… You most definitely did not think it was cute. Not even a little bit, no… You blushed and looked away as Miranda stood up, missing the look of disappointment in her puppy-like eyes.

After that, though, you found you couldn’t even enjoy getting drinks with your colleagues - your mind was going in circles and you were unable to shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You sat at a booth near the back of the bar, nursing a beer as everyone around you joked around and slowly got drunk.

You couldn’t keep your gaze from wandering towards Miranda, who was seated at the opposite end of the table. She sipped her beer, smiling occasionally at something one of the others said - your eyes, once again, got stuck on her smile. The upward quirk of her lips, the subtle scrunch of her nose, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. When she caught you staring, however, she quickly looked away, the smile sliding right off her face.

It affected you more than you would care to let on - as soon as her smile was gone, you wished for it back - desperately. And it was stupid, really - she’d somehow managed to sour your mood every single day this week, and yet your body was reacting to her in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time. With a sigh, you drained your beer and ordered a second one - this was going to be a long night.

~~~

If you’d thought your second week on the job would start better than the first, well - you’d quickly find out just how wrong you were.

Monday morning started like any other - you strode into the office with your coffee to-go cup, passing by Miranda’s empty desk. There was a half-empty bowl of cereal at the edge, stacks of manila folders and paperwork strewn over the surface, an empty, crumpled paper bag from the local bakery that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the computer keyboard. It stirred up a twinge of annoyance in you, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling.

Looking up and seeing the blonde standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen, you quickly averted your gaze and hurried to your office.

Your mind began to wander as you answered your emails and a flash of blonde through the window in your office caught your eye. Miranda walked back to her seat, a mug in her hand. She reached her desk and distractedly looked up, talking enthusiastically with Robin as she placed the mug down on a teetering pile of papers.

You looked on in horror as the pile slowly toppled over, spilling coffee all over her desk - you couldn’t bear to watch anymore, dropping your head into your hands in frustration as you heard Miranda let out a gasp.

Not my problem, you thought, trying to take steadying breaths. It wasn’t your desk that she’d spilled her coffee on, after all.

You stood and made your way to your office door, calling out for Robin.

“Yeah?”

“Did you manage to get a copy of the autopsy results already? I really need them.”

Robin shifted slightly from foot to foot, a frown growing on her face - you really didn’t like the look of that.

“Actually, I sent Miranda to get them this morning.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked past Robin at her colleague, who was frantically wiping up the spilled coffee from her desk. “Hilmarson, can I get those autopsy results?”

Miranda looked up, freezing in her movements. Her eyes darted between you and her desk and her cheeks were rapidly turning pink. “They, uh… Got a bit soggy.” She strode over to you with a piece of paper in her hand. You took it gingerly, a look of disgust forming on your face as the entire thing was brown and dripping wet.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” you growled. Miranda shrugged sheepishly and muttered out an apology - you glared at her in return. “I need you to get me a fresh copy by this afternoon.”

Miranda opened her mouth to speak but you interrupted her, balling your hand into a fist and crumpling up the paper, tossing it on her desk. “And tidy your fucking desk like a grown up,” you snarled.

Miranda’s face was red as she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the office, taking large strides towards the elevators and disappearing from view.

“She grows on you,” Robin supplied quietly, watching you watch Miranda. You snorted.

“I doubt it.” Your stomach churned uncomfortably even as you said those words. Why did this woman have such an effect on you?

“She’s been having a rough time, ever since the breakup with Adrian.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information - you’d known about Adrian’s affair, of course, but you’d never thought it would be with Miranda. “They were going to have a baby together, you know.”

You coughed, choking on your own saliva. “They what?” You couldn’t picture Miranda as a mother - she was far too clumsy and chaotic… and goofy. And generous. Okay, maybe you could picture it, a little bit. Your stomach churned uncomfortably - you didn’t know the details of the affair, but breakups were rough - you’d moved across the country after your last breakup. You suddenly felt ashamed for being such a bitch to her.

“Yeah, well…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind…” You forced a smile and Robin raised her eyebrows, nodding and leaving you be. You tried to focus after that but you couldn’t, your mind wandering quite insistently to a certain constable. Guilt began to gnaw at your insides after having been so harsh with her. You’d have to - you wanted to - apologize for your behavior.

You locked yourself in your office and finished replying to your emails. Even half an hour later, Miranda was still not at her desk - nor was she in the kitchen, the locker rooms, or the alley under your window. You finally found her behind the station, looking out over the water and smoking a cigarette.

“Hey,” you called, your heart clenching when you saw Miranda flinch as she turned to face you.

“Oh fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay, I-”

“I’m the one who should apologize. Robin told me it was you.”

Miranda’s face scrunched up in confusion. She dropped her cigarette and took a step towards you. “Sorry?”

“You know, with Adrian.”

Recognition flooded Miranda’s features and she dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Oh.” She let out a hollow chuckle and turned again, walking towards the water and lowering herself to sit at the edge. You followed and took a seat next to her, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you.

“Men are pigs, you know?” Miranda said after a moment’s silence. A loud snort escaped your lips, causing Miranda to laugh - you hadn’t heard her laugh so freely before, but it made your heart soar and you thought it might be your new favorite sound in the world. It wasn’t quite melodic, not necessarily akin to birdsong - it was loud and unabashed and very Miranda, and for some reason you found you really liked that. You couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“You’re alright, you know that, Hilmarson?” you said with a grin, gently bumping your shoulder into hers. Miranda’s laughter slowly died out but the smile remained on her face, accompanied by a faint blush.

“Thanks. You are, too.”

~~~

“Hilmarson.” You slung your jacket over your shoulder as you strode past Miranda’s desk the following day around noon. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the pen she was holding, straightening her posture. “Come with me.”

Miranda scrambled to get up, slipping her phone into her pocket and following you to the elevators and out of the building.

“Where are we going?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone as she scurried after you. You bypassed the parking lot, heading down the street instead.

“You’ll see,” you said with a smirk, wordlessly offering Miranda a cigarette. She fumbled around in her pocket for a lighter but you were quicker, holding up your own. “Hold still,” you murmured, holding the lighter up to her cigarette and lighting it for her, your eyes catching on the way her long, slender fingers held it, as if it were a delicate thing.

Your destination was a nearby coffee shop, and you held the door open for Miranda to step through. “After you,” you purred, smirking at Miranda’s wide eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled into the cafe, waiting awkwardly for you at the counter.

“It’s on me,” you said before ordering yourself a latte and a sandwich. “Get anything you like.”

Minutes later, you were sitting together at a little table in the corner.

“Look,” you started with a sigh. Miranda tilted her head. “Can we start over? I haven’t exactly been fair to you. You aren’t the reason I was late last week. I was angry and took it out on you, and that was really shitty of me.”

“I did spill cereal all over your shirt, though,” Miranda murmured with a sheepish grin, her cheeks turning adorably rosy.

“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” you said with a laugh. “That’s not the point, though. You’re too good to let yourself get walked all over, you know that?”

Miranda shrugged, unable to fully meet your gaze and focusing instead on her panini, out of which she took a huge bite.

“Not by me, not by Constable Brown, not by Adrian - you’re a solid officer and you have potential, you just need to stand your ground more.”

“Oh god,” Miranda spoke through a full mouth, her voice slightly garbled, her eyes wide. “Is this a performance review or something?”

You laughed, your stomach flipping as her blush deepened. “No. I just…” You hesitated, biting your lip and looking away. I just really like you. “I just wanted to apologize. I want us to work together, not against each other.”

“Really?” Miranda grinned, her eyes sparkling - the hope written across her face nearly made your heart stop, and you nodded. “I was so scared when I found out you were my new boss. I really thought you hated me.”

“I did, too,” you said with a laugh. “But… for the record, I don’t. I hope you don’t hate me.”

Miranda’s cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she smiled widely. “I don’t.”

~~~

Ever since your lunch “date”, your feelings for Miranda were only growing. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of her at the station, your stomach fluttered when you heard her voice. You even found yourself timing your smoke breaks with hers, just so you would have an excuse to chat with her and bask in her presence.

The following Friday at the bar, Miranda chose to sit down next to you. She placed a beer in front of you and offered you a wide smile - you felt your face flush as you muttered out an uncharacteristically shy “thank you”.

The two of you listened to your colleagues talk and banter - or rather, perhaps Miranda was listening, but you definitely weren’t. You were far too focused on the constable and your close proximity to one another; the way her shoulder bumped yours every so often, the way her hand flexed around her beer bottle, the way her throat bobbed whenever she took a sip.

Miranda laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She looked to the side, meeting your gaze - you couldn’t help but grin giddily back at her, chuckling a bit, and you could see her cheeks turn red as she returned your grin.

After your third beer, you started to feel a little daring - you placed your hand gingerly on her thigh, your touch feather light as you were afraid of crossing a line. To your surprise, Miranda placed her own hand on top of yours - it was warm and soft and large, and you could feel your pulse pick up as her long fingers curled slightly around yours. When you dared to steal a glance in her direction, you could see a soft smile playing upon her lips.

~~~

“Hey.” A low voice coming from the doorway to your office caused you to look up from your laptop. A smile involuntarily spread across your face seeing Miranda leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Hi,” you replied - Miranda hadn’t come into your office proactively since you’d started working at the station, but you supposed a lot had changed in the past few days. “Do you need something?”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I, uh, I actually wanted to ask if you’d want to come over to my place for a beer or something tonight?”

“Oh.” A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach at the prospect of spending one-on-one time with the blonde - who was looking increasingly like she was about to throw up, the longer you took to reply. “Yeah, yes, I would love to.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. “Okay, great. I’ll send you my address. How’s 7?”

“7 is perfect,” you said with a growing blush, chuckling as Miranda rushed back to her desk to grab her phone - your own phone pinged with a text moments later: an address.

~~~

You showed up promptly at 7, your heart pounding fiercely against your ribcage as you knocked on the door to Miranda’s apartment.

The door swung open to reveal the tall blonde, wearing the blue shirt she’d loaned you after spilling cereal all over you, as well as a pair of shorts.

“Blue is definitely your color,” you said before you could stop yourself. It really was, though - it brought out the blues of her eyes, making them shine and sparkle against her pale skin.

“Thank you,” Miranda said with a laidback grin, gesturing for you to enter her apartment. It surprised you to see that it wasn’t as messy as you’d have assumed it to be - it was definitely lived in, but it was clean and had very home-y vibes. More than anything, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelled like Miranda - light and clean, but with the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to the air. Her shirt had smelled like that, too, when you’d borrowed it, and though you never would have admitted it back then, you’d buried your nose in the fabric more than once before begrudgingly washing and returning it.

Miranda offered you a beer and guided you to her living room, settling on the couch and motioning for you to join her. The couch was relatively small and though you tried to leave some space between you, your knee ended up pressing lightly against Miranda’s thigh.

Despite your nerves, it somehow felt right to be in her space. You felt as though you were able to see a whole new side to Miranda - a side that you really liked. As the two of you engaged in some timid small-talk, you couldn’t help but wonder why she’d invited you - you hoped it was for the same reason that you’d said yes.

“God, I was so nervous to ask you to come over,” Miranda said with a cackle, shaking her head at herself before taking a swig of her beer.

“Were you?” The thought amused you greatly, and it gave you a shot of confidence. You dropped your voice an octave and leaned forward. “Do I make you nervous?”

Miranda looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening. Your eyes flicked briefly to her lips, to her wet, pink tongue darting out to lick them, and you found yourself leaning even closer.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” you murmured, scanning Miranda’s face for any sign of discomfort. Miranda’s pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly.

“I would kiss you back,” she whispered, her gaze landing on your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered back with a smile. Miranda nodded slowly.

“Uh-huh.”

You closed the gap, your lips meeting hers - she tasted like beer and cigarettes, and her lips were impossibly soft. She kissed you back eagerly, whimpering a little as your tongue darted out over her lower lip.

You pulled back, your cheeks covered in a light blush.

“I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t-” you started, but Miranda interrupted you with a second kiss, this one deeper and hungrier than the first as her hands grabbed your cheeks, holding you in place. Her tongue licked greedily at the seam of your lips, which you immediately parted for her. You let out a deep groan as her tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in near-desperation.

“You taste so good,” Miranda moaned, her voice low and sultry, and desire pooled in your core.

“Mmmh,” was all you could reply as your hands gripped at Miranda’s waist and you swung your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands slid down to your waist, then your hips, then came to rest on top of your thighs. She gave them a squeeze and you found yourself involuntarily grinding your pelvis into her lap, her touch sending your body into overdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, Miranda swallowing your words as your bodies pressed against each other, a steady and suffocating heat building between the two of you.

The constable’s hands slipped under your ass and she turned you onto your back - breaking the kiss only briefly to position herself above you. One of her knees came to rest between your legs and she pushed it against your core, drawing a groan from your throat. The pressure was delicious against your aching sex and you bucked your hips to get some much-needed relief.

Miranda’s lips left your own and began to trail down your chin, your throat, your chest, stopping at the top button of your shirt - hot, wet, needy. She lifted her head and you looked down to meet her gaze - her pupils were blown wide with lust, her cheeks gorgeously flushed, her hair tousled.

“We- fuck,” you started breathily, finding it almost impossible to think as Miranda’s knee pressed against your clit. “We should slow down.”

Miranda nodded, her eyes widening and her cheeks bright red as she reluctantly pulled her leg away from your cunt. You bit down on your lower lip to stop a whine from slipping out at the loss of friction.

The constable settled half on top of you, leaning against the back of the couch and propping her head up on her arm. She closed her eyes as she tried to steady her heavy, ragged breathing. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with want. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped open and she met your gaze, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re not. I want this.”

“I don’t think I just want this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and swallowing hard. “I want you.”

“I want you, too.”

You opened your eyes and met Miranda’s bright, eager gaze, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure?”

Miranda nodded and you lunged forward, your lips crashing into hers as your hand snaked its way around the back of her head, holding her in place. Your fingers threaded through her hair - it felt like silk under your skin.

Your other hand settled on her waist, tugging her on top of you - her body weight pressed you down into the couch and you groaned at the feeling. You needed more, you wanted more, so your hands found the hem of Miranda’s t-shirt and you slipped underneath it. Her bare skin was impossibly smooth, and you felt electricity coursing through your body at the feeling of her soft hips in your hands. Your hands found their way up her back and you raked your nails over the expanse of it, pleased with the hungry growl that escaped Miranda’s lips.

Finding the clasp of her bra, you unclipped it, slipping a hand around to the front of her torso and under the loose fabric to palm her breast. She grasped desperately at your waist as your warm palm rubbed over her nipple, rolling it into a hard peak. Miranda let out a breathy sigh and sat up, straddling your waist and pulling her shirt off. Her bra followed, and both were discarded on the floor behind the couch.

You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared up at Miranda - your mouth going dry. Her rosy nipples contrasted against her pale skin, her abdomen rippled with every heaving breath that she took. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts - flicking your thumbs over her pert nipples and watching them harden further.

Sitting up, you hungrily took one of the rosy buds into your mouth, sucking greedily and soothing your tongue over it as you felt Miranda’s hands thread through your hair. You repeated the process on her other nipple, thoroughly pleased with yourself when Miranda let out a soft, breathy moan - one that was so deliciously pornographic that you felt a wave of arousal course through you, your panties growing damp.

You released Miranda’s nipple, your hands drifting down to the buckle of her belt and making quick work of undoing it. Miranda took the hint, removing her pants in a hurry and then focusing her attention on your own clothes. Your own shirt was unbuttoned and tossed aside in an instant, your pants tugged down your legs and dropped onto the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Miranda’s bare skin was hot against your own and you pulled her back down on top of you, your pussy throbbing as her nipples brushed against yours. You kissed her with hunger and passion, your left hand palming her ass as your right hand found its way between your bodies to cup her pussy over her underwear.

The constable groaned, immediately grinding against your hand - you noticed that she’d soaked through the thin cotton of her underwear. You pulled the fabric aside and curled your fingers against the length of her slit, letting out a gasp as you felt her dripping for you.

“I need you,” she whined, shuddering as your fingers explored her folds - letting out a strangled whimper when you smeared her wetness over her clit and began to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves.

Miranda turned out to be as loud as she was sensitive - you found it easy to bring her to the edge, time and time again, your fingers applying a gentle pressure to her clit and pumping easily in and out of her, her slick walls drawing your digits in and clenching tightly around them. Her unabashed moans filled the air, echoing off the walls of the living room and having you wondering - only briefly, though - how thick those walls were.

After her fifth orgasm, when the stimulation finally became too much for her, Miranda whimpered and shifted her pelvis away from you. Taking the hint, you pulled your hand out of her underwear, your fingers shining with her arousal. You lifted them to Miranda’s face, smirking when she immediately opened her mouth and allowed you to place your fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean, her flushed cheeks hollowing out, her kiss-swollen lips wrapped around your knuckles.

You leaned forward to kiss her as she released your fingers, eager to taste the remnants of her orgasm on her tongue. The taste was heavenly - you were almost sorry that Miranda was so overstimulated - you’d have given everything to go down on her.

She pulled back from the kiss, her hot, heavy breath ghosting over your face as she rested her forehead against your own, trying to steady her breathing. A bead of sweat had collected on her forehead and you reached up to wipe it away, tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear. It was too short, of course, and immediately fell back into her face - it made you smile, and Miranda smiled - no, beamed - back, her eyes sparkling.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” you whispered into the silence - Miranda blushed and shook her head no. Her fingers danced along the waistband of your underwear, lightly at first as she leaned in for a languid kiss. Then her fingers curled under the waistband and began tugging, her lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your sternum, your stomach - soft, warm, wet, hungry. She tugged your underwear down your legs, her lips immediately replacing the fabric as she pressed kisses to your mound, to your inner thighs - finally disappearing between your legs.

You felt her tongue lap hungrily at your folds, little noises of pleasure coming from between your thighs and vibrating against your cunt. It was both adorable and extremely hot at the same time, how eagerly Miranda ate you out - sloppy, yet determined (and very skilled, you noted mentally, letting out a filthy groan as her lips latched onto your clit, her tongue flicking at the sensitive little bundle).

By the time Miranda was finished with you, your thighs were trembling and your breathing was ragged. The constable pressed one final kiss to your clit, before sitting up and grinning goofily down at you. Her chin was coated in your slick and her cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help but loop an arm around her neck and pull her close, licking your own arousal off her face before meeting her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

After what felt like hours holding each other, kissing and regaining your breaths, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy and you sighed.

“I should probably get going,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Yeah - of course.” Miranda blushed as she pushed herself off you. “Can you just wait here?”

You nodded, furrowing your brows as the constable stood and walked out of the room. You heard the tap running, then she came back with a wet washcloth.

“Is it okay if I…” Her eyes darted down between your legs as she took a seat next to you.

It was your turn to blush. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

Miranda cleaned you up with great care, being extra gentle as she soothed the washcloth over your clit. When she was done, you got dressed in silence, then allowed Miranda to walk you to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“Would you want to…” she trailed off, not quite able to meet your gaze.

“Are you busy Saturday? Would you like to go on a date with me?” You couldn’t help but smile as Miranda’s eyes widened and she began to nod, a look of relief washing over her face as her lips curled upwards.

“Yeah - I’m not busy, I would love to.”

“Good.” You smirked, leaning in to press your lips to Miranda’s - her breath hitched in her chest. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You turned to leave, exiting the apartment and walking down the hall. Turning around to wave goodbye, you could see Miranda smiling as her head poked out from behind the door.

That night, you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face and a warmth in your belly - already mentally planning your date.

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k9wa · 1 year

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𑣲 PALPITATE. ft hakkai shiba.

⠀ —when hakkai busting his bike leaves him stranded and vulnerable, both at the hands of public transportation and a girl who can't take a hint.

⠀ or

⠀ — two virgins who lack any social skills are forced to share the same bus route.

⚠︎ fem!reader, no referring pronouns used, hakkai and you are so terribly fucking awkward, lot's of sillies.

MONDAY MAY 2ND, 2006.

what was it about public transportation that was so god damn confusing? i mean, sure, the concept is simple, find the bus you wanna get on and you know, get on it.

until you take into consideration all the factors in between which, for everyone's sake, i won't bore you with. save for two.

not only had you deemed public transportation your sworn nemesis, but now you were battling it in a city you’d never stepped foot in.

actually, there was someone in a similar situation to you, also (temporarily) struck by the punishment hammer that was being forced to bus everywhere while his motorcycle was in the shop. the day you met hakkai shiba was the first day you had to take the bus to your new part-time job across town. you approached him while he leaned lazily against a sign, displaying a small cartoon bus with a number inside it.

“um— excuse me?” hakkai felt his bones go stiff at the feminine voice that called to him.

“sorry to bother you, i was just wondering, uh, is this the bus that go….”

he didn’t get to hear where you were trying to go as his brain did its absolute best to tune you out. meanwhile, you waited patiently for a response.

…a response that the tall boy in front of you was really taking his time preparing. all while he kept perfectly still and facing forward.

“…um—excuse me…?”

had he not heard you?

“…hello?”

was he just ignoring you? sure you understood not wanting to talk to someone, but a simple nod of his head would suffice, no?

“sorry— i just really need to know if this is the right stop to get on.”

hakkai didn’t move.

“um, i start at a new job in less than an hour? i can't really afford to get lost right now.” you chuckled uncomfortably, hoping to ease the tension.

nothing. it was as if you weren’t even there.

“…anything?”

nope.

“blink once for yes??”

your hands drop to your sides, all you received was more nothing. his eyes didn’t even twitch.

“i’m—i’m just gonna try the stop down the road.”

hakkai couldn’t bring himself to watch from his peripherals as you walked away from one of the most awkward situations of your teenage life.

away, and to the wrong bus stop.

TUESDAY MAY 3RD, 2006.

the next time hakkai saw you was actually the very next day, after your first encounter with him. around the same time, as well.

turns out, you and he would be sharing a bus route until the youngest shiba’s bike was fixed and ready for riding again.

lucky you!

you nearly threw yourself into the traffic beside you when the same guy from yesterday was back at the stop. the stop you learned the hard way was actually the right one.

you trudged up beside him, leaving an awkward distance between you while he was sitting on the bench, and you opted for standing to the side of it.

“…sooo, turns out this was actually my stop, haha.”

you desperately tried to talk to him again, hoping to prove to yourself that he wasn’t really ignoring you as bad as you’d hoped the day before.

he didn’t answer.

“i um— got on the wrong bus yesterday. ended up all the way in roppongi? i think that’s what it was called, anyway.”

answer. say literally anything oh my god i’m begging you.

“pretty cool area, i'd never been before. silver lining, right?”

you turn to look at him, he’s pale as a ghost.

“youuu uh, ever been? to roppongi?”

….no response ever came. you clear your throat.

“awesome, cool, cool.”

this was gonna be a long week.

WEDNESDAY MAY 4TH, 2006.

back at the bus stop you stood, almost shoulder to shoulder with the same boy who you tried almost everything to pry a word out of the last two days.

tuesday night it dawned on you, what if he just…couldn’t hear you? maybe he had some kind of hearing impairment! it would be pretty shitty to assume he was just blatantly ignoring you if that was the case, so, wednesday afternoon you tried again.

“um, hey.”

you looked beside you to the stone face that was becoming unfortunately familiar. he didn’t answer.

so, like any sane person would do, you poked his arm.

hakkai audibly gulped, but continued to keep his eyes on the scenery in front of him.

“…hello? anyone home?”

you poked him again. hakkai started to sweat rather profusely. it was a good thing he couldn’t see the way your brow furrowed at the physical cues that he indeed did know you were there.

“okay, what gives? are you just like– really not talkative or something?”

you’re a fool for waiting patiently for some kind of acknowledgement. hakkai was frozen in place.

“...seriously? nothing? not even telling me to shut up or– or leave you alone or something??”

you stomped your way in front of him, and finally reached a hand up to wave it in front of his face.

“just one word! one word and i'll never speak to you again. swear it.”

hakkai, to everyone’s surprise, didn’t move, his eyes dead set straight. the waving and begging went on until your bus came to a screeching stop behind you.

maybe tomorrow.

THURSDAY MAY 5TH, 2006.

hakkai truly was beginning to mourn having an unlimited form of private transportation. not only did he hate the crowded seats of the bus, or quickly grow tired of the schedules ruining his chance to stay with his friends or gang members late that week, but hakkai had also convinced himself you were one more day away from just deciding to punch him square in the gut.

you absolutely were, by the way.

it’s not that he didn’t feel bad, but c'mon! anyone who knew him knew that yuzuha was the only girl he could talk to, it wasn’t anything against you personally.

it also didn't help that, you too, were completely socially inept. i mean, who keeps trying to make conversation with someone after finding out they’ve been actively ignoring them? anyone else would have just, y'know, moved along.

you being pretty, like, really pretty wasn’t helping his case much either, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about that for longer than a millisecond before he turned red.

thursday, you didn’t show up for the bus. hakkai waited, watching the side of the sidewalk you would normally arrive from, but you never showed.

which, in theory, should have been elating for him. it was a day where he could take a much needed breather, where he could comfortably arrive home without clammy hands or sweat beading down his neck.

it was…a little disappointing. not that hakkai necessarily enjoyed making a fool of himself (or shutting off all his senses to avoid that from happening,) but he couldn’t deny that your antics were… funny? to him? you were kind of an idiot, but in an endearing kind of way.

hakkai hoped to see you at the stop tomorrow.

FRIDAY MAY 6TH, 2006.

friday marked the end of the week, alongside the end of hakkai’s journey as someone who regularly relied on the public transport system. tomorrow morning, he would pick up his bike, and bring her back home where she belonged. balance would be restored.

you, however, were dreading leaving your home.

the day prior, you had the luxury of getting a ride to work from a friend, putting an ease to your mind and it’s swarm of thoughts regarding the very tall, very well sculpted, very pretty, very well kept–

the guy at the bus stop who wouldn’t pay any mind to your existence even if it meant his damn life was on the line.

he was an idiot, you were sure of it. not only was he stupid, he was rude! you ended up nearly stranded in another district because he couldn’t even spare you a nod of his head!

who cared that he was pretty? who cared that he had some of the best bone structure you’d ever seen in person, or that he was already standing at 183 cm at an age you assumed couldn’t be far from your own? he sucked!

…okay you cared. you had a thing for him. it was utterly humiliating. all you had done was run around poking (literally) and prodding at him for the last week, all because you didn’t know how to properly say “hey, i wanna talk to you!” or “hey, why are you ignoring me?”

that, and the curiosity of what could be causing him to pay such little attention to you was genuinely driving you up the wall. you digress. today, you would make it right.

you finally arrived, i shouldn't have to mention where by now, and were relieved to see the familiar blue buzz-cut. relieved alongside cursing god for making it so you actually had to speak to him again. you slowly took your spot to his left.

“...hey, um–”

you played with the strap of your bag.

“sorry if i’ve been on your nerves or anything this week, realised i was bein’ kinda overbearing.” you chuckled and looked up at him, not surprised at the lack of feedback.

“i just moved here? and everything has been going pretty south for me, but i didn't mean to take it out on you or anything.”

hakkai’s jaw was clenched, but staying true to himself, he didn’t answer.

“anyway, sorry again. hope the rest of your day goes alright.”

hakkai clenched his fists together, sucked in the deepest breath he thought he'd ever taken, and before the bus rounded the street corner, he spoke.

“..sh..ba…h..kai…” it was shaky, and it was spoken through his tightly clenched teeth, but he managed.

“...p–pardon?” you did your best to keep your eyes from widening and having your shock spread across your face, but it was a feeble attempt. hakkai turned his head in the opposite direction, away from you.

“..shiba…hakkai..” he mumbled again, but the second time was thankfully more clear.

it quickly became your turn to stare straight ahead of you, unable to form some kind of answer in your head. you had been so damn talkative before, too.

the bus came to a rusty stop in front of the two of you. only then, were you able to mutter your name in response to him. one painful week later, you finally had an introduction.

maybe hakkai would keep taking the bus home even after picking up his bike. only sometimes, though. baby steps.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#hes an idiot i love him #hakkai shiba #shiba hakkai #hakkai x reader #hakkai x you #hakkai fluff #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x you #black dragons #yuzuha shiba #taiju shiba #UNEARTHLY

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no-see-um-incorrect · 4 months

Text

Bad Blood (literally)

Sam/Masc Darlin

Fluffy sick Fic

No proofread

Darlin’s POV

“come on Sam. pick up” i dialed the number again only to be met with the same voicemail I’ve heard 1 million times today

“you’ve reached Sam Collins if it’s important enough, you’ll leave a message”

Sam hadn’t answeredmy calls at all today, not even any texts. Which was abnormal usually I’m the one to mentally respond, but not actually message back.

Was he napping? no. Sam usually texts before he lays down for a nap

Maybe he was listening to music and it was too loud for him to hear his phone….No. Sam has sensitive ears, And likes to be hyper aware of his surroundings. usually the music is just loud enough to hear.

Maybe I’m just being obsessive and spiraling over nothing, maybe I’m just being a paranoid little shit like Chrissy is always saying…

or maybe my paranoia is warranted.

I make my way to David’s office

*KNOCK-KNOCK* “come in” I quickly open David’s door closing it a little too loud behind me

“oh, I thought you were Asher” “so sorry to disappoint. Can I go home early?” He cocked his head like a confused dog (yea. I know) “…..can I ask why” “I think something might be wrong with Sam. he hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls….and I’m getting worried” “alright you can leave. I’ll get Milo to cover for you on the Walton job” “holy fuck, thanks David” I turned to leave.

“hey…Next time something like this happens just leave….you can fill me in later” I whisper a quick thank you. Before bolting out the door.

Nobody’s POV—————————————————

Darlin jolted through traffic in ways that should’ve earned them many tickets. But that didn’t matter all that was going through their head was. possible scenarios of what they were gonna walk into. most of them less than pleasant.

Have they checked in with Quinn’s containment facility? Could Alexis’s invoke have worn off? Can invokes wear off? why does their driveway feel so much longer than it usually does.

Darlin pulled up next to Sam’s truckand threw open the door, not even bothering to turn their car off. Fumbling with their keys all the way up to the front door. Darlin unlocked it and ran inside.

“SAM! IM HOME!” They waited for a few seconds then they heard a groan. Coming from down the hall. they start walking down the hall, making sure to listen closely. the groan is coming from the end of the hall. It’s coming from.…..the bathroom??

Darlin presses their ear up against the door. inside they can hear labored breathing

“Sam?” They softly spoke. Admittedly, a little scared. a few seconds past before they heard a weak “Darlin?” it was quiet, it was weak but it was there. and it was Sam. and he sounded in pain? They think that’s what that is. “Sammy…i’m gonna open the door is that OK?” They can hear Sam grunt in agreement. they slowly opened the door. and they see Sam. On the floor. hunched over the toilet. They thought he was pale before. but you might as well call him a friendly ghost because he’s white as Casper.

“oh, baby…what happened?” “B-bad blood bag..*Gulp*” “like expired? or just bad blood?” “bad blo-*Cough!* I tried to-get to my phone but I-” Sam quickly leans closer to the toilet. Darlin places a soft hand on his back. using the other to hold his hair back. “oh shit. Ok. I got ya i got ya..” once Sam was finished hacking up a lung. He leans back against the bathroom wall.

“feel any better?” “still nauseous, but not nearly as bad as before” “how long have you been in here?” “…since around three hours after you left-And i know what your gonna say-” “SAM I left at 5 AM! And I don’t know if you’ve checked the clocks but it’s 3 PM” Sam was quiet his cheeks were flushed from being sick and his eyes started to fill up “…Sam..have you been throwing up all the time?” “…I couldn’t s s-” Darlin places a hand on his cheek. Caressing his face with their thumb. “oh Sammy” they wrap their arms around him and hold him close. Sam takes a deep breath and leans into the embrace.

After a minute, Darlin hooks their arm under Sam’s legs. The other supporting his back. standing up and lifting him off the ground. Almost out of reflex, Sam wraps his arms around their neck. “Darlin! Put me down!” “nope, not happening. Sorry a Babe, but it’s my turn to play the big strong man in the relationship” Darlin walks them to the bedroom and lays him down.

“No. I can’t lay in the bed I’m gross” “and you laid in the bed and cuddled me when I had the flu. I don’t see your point. Can I take your shirt and pants off?” “yeah. Wait hold on. why?” “you’ve been in these clothes all day they’re probably sweaty and icky” Darlin removes his flannel and jeans, taking off his shoes and socks.

Sam’s skin was warm. But not the cozy warm that Darlin look forward to when they came home every day. This was like fever warm…but vampire edition,

“I’ll be right back. stay here” “well I don’t think I have the strength to go anywhere else”

Around 15 minutes later, Darlin comes in the room with a Home Depot 5 gallon bucket. They sit on the floor on Sams side of the bed.

“I’ve got Vernors courtesy of Ashers sister, saltines and vapor rub, three ice cold water bottles, and the main event..” they drop the 5 gallon bucket next to the nightstand in front of him “puke bucket. I Also threw away the blood bags that were left in the fridge and told Vincent to pick up some fresh ones at the bank by his house” Darlin sits down next to him and opens one of the water bottles “Drink” Sam grabs a water bottle and chugs it. not realizing how thirsty he was until now. Once he finishes, he tosses the water bottle into the bucket.

“thank you darlin” “there’s that voice” they lean forward and give him a kiss on the forehead “aw. Is my big bad wolf being soft?” “Only for you cowboy”

The next few hours were spent making sure Sam could function again. Darlin’ had reheated some of the chicken soup that Marie had given them. And made him eat a few bowls of it. not that he was complaining. he had drank almost every of the water bottle they had in the house. made quick work of the crackers and Vernors. and was now simply resting. laying on his side while his Darlin rubbed his shoulders. Feeling his now normal Sam temperature skin

“this is gonna sound bad, but I’m kind of happy that you were sick” “you’re right. That does sound bad” “what I mean is….when you weren’t returning my calls or texts I…I got really anxious and started thinking..” “started thinkin’ the worst?” “yeah..and of course, now I know that it wasn’t your fault that you weren’t answering I just got really worried” “well your worry was warranted you saw me. I was a mess…A mess that was then rescued by his favorite night in shining torn jacket” “Ha! Look, who’s being sappy now!” “must be the medication got me all up in the clouds like them migraine meds David takes”

Sam stretches out his shoulders and lets out a yawn.

“you should probably get ready for sleep. You must be exhausted” “you’re probably right” Sam turns over clicks the lamp off. And closes his eyes to sleep.

“what are you doing?” “getting ready to sleep” “all the way over there?” “I didn’t think. You would want to cuddle with me” “well you’re right about one thing” Darlin pulls Sam closer by his hips forcibly little spooning him “you didn’t think” they nuzzled their face into his neck and wrapped their arms around his torso

“…..I love you Darlin. your the best thing I’ve got” “your worth trying to be the best for”

————————————————————————-

This might be shit. OH WELL

@frog-0n-a-l0g Luv u Boo. this for you

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin’#fluff and only fluff #hurt comfort #???

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saintslewis · 11 months

Text

Graduation

pairing: lewis hamilton x black fem reader

summary: in which you celebrate your graduation day with your husband and family/friends

saint’s notes: in honour of graduation season, here’s a fic for y’all 🫶🏽 first f1 fic let’s gaurrrrrrr

social media + real life au

taglist: @thisismeracing (i really love your acc so this is to just say 🫶🏽)

ynhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, bellahadid and 7,838,839 others

ynhamilton i’ve successfully served cunt academically

view comments

user she is mother and no one can say otherwise

landonoriss mom finally graduated 🥹

ynhamilton not even gonna say anything anymore-

lewishamilton congratulations my love! i’m extremely proud of you and i love you

ynhamilton i love you more 🥹 thank you for the gift btw 🤭

lewishamilton i love you way more but okay 🩷

user what degree did you get???

ynhamilton a masters in English Literature 😋

user oh so you smart smart?

ynhamilton pretty much

pierregasly10 so no more doing homework in the wrong motor homes? (alpine misses your frantic typing)

ynhamilton it was one time and i’m a mercedes girly so pls

mercedesamgf1 i know that’s right! 🤭

charles_leclerc congratulations y/n! making me feel like a proud parent

maxverstappen1 weren’t you crying when she got on stage? 😭

carlossainz55 he was and it was the funniest thing ever

user damn, so the whole grid was at her graduation? 😧

user basically yeah 😭, i was graduating as an undergraduate and when they called her name, they cheered so loud

user and when lewis yelled ‘that’s my wife!’ I shed a couple of tears

bellahadid babe omg!!!!! congrats, so excited to see you omg

gigihadid bella shhhhh

sza you guys aren’t good at this 😭

danielricciardo you did serve cunt

ynhamilton thanks Danny 🥳

susiewolff what do you guys say? you ate them up!

ynhamilton that’s the spirit Susie!!

youryoungersister CONGRATS

ynhamilton thanks stupid

youryoungersister since you got your degree and yk everything fucking thing-

ynhamilton degrees*

youryoungersister celcius bitch

sophiarichiegrainge i literally love you so much

ynhamilton you’re too sweet, i love you too

The traffic of getting out of the campus was tough, the occasional fan coming up to the car to either take videos of it for social media or to interact with both you, Lewis or the other drivers. Having the top down for the fans to have better access to the both of you resulted in paparazzi at the gate of the university, trying to grab pictures of you mainly.

“Babe look! They’re calling it the Paddock Grad party.” You chuckled as you chuckled at the tweets you were scrolling through as you found out that you were trending on the app. The wind wasn’t too harsh on your faces as he cruised down the streets, constantly congratulating you and doing an amazing job at distracting you from the fact that the rest of the grid that attended your graduation had driven past you.

Reaching the infamous Hidden Hills gates, you were greeted with balloons from the guards, already putting the biggest smile on your face. Driving towards your LA home, you noticed all the super cars, hyper cars and luxury vehicles leading up to your driveway with each car having a gold balloon strapped around the mirror. You were absolutely stunned by everything you were taking in and Lewis looked at you as if you hung up all the stars in the night sky, extremely proud of your achievements.

With him helping you out of the car, you noticed the white rose petals scattered around the front yard and the music blaring from your backyard. The thought of all your favourite people coming together to celebrate your newest achievement was bringing tears of joy to your eyes, refusing to cry and ruining your lashes. Walking into your home, you noticed the incredibly large table of gifts as you walked into your foyer and Lewis just following behind you as you marvelled at everything in your home.

“Y/n,” He called out as you were a few feet away from the door leading to your backyard. Looking back at your husband, you held his hand. “Don’t you want to change your shoes?” He asked, noticing your discomfort from your heels after the graduation ceremony had ended. You nodded with the most love sick smile on your face as he brought out your favourite Gucci platform sandals from behind his back. He let out a little giggle at the look on your face and got on his knees to undo your shoes for you. Sighing of relief as your bare feet hit the cool ground, you slipped your feet into the sandals, noticing the height change between you and Lewis as he was taller than you. He placed a kiss on your forehead then your lips, repeatedly kissing your lips until your giggle stopped him.

As you walked into the kitchen which had access to the patio door, you noticed all the food and dessert beautifully decorated with white and gold, the one thing catching your attention the most was the doughnut stand in the middle of your island. You gasped and immediately went for the stand, grabbing a white chocolate doughnut that wrote ‘congratulations, y/n!’. You split it into two pieces and offered to Lewis knowing he would definitely decline it but he surprised you by taking the other half. “What? I can’t say no to a celebration.” He winked at you as he took a bite out of it.

Almost forgetting about the party he quite literally planned to happen in his backyard, he held your hand once again and led you to the party outside with all the guests waiting for you. As he opened the door, the sounds of Kaytranada were heard and people talking as they turned their attention to the door you were walking out from. The cheers started as you fully walked into the yard with Lewis squeezing your hand and letting it go, stepping to the side to let people celebrate you.

The first person to approach you was your mother, embracing you in a loving hug as tears threatened to fall. The next being your younger sister, trying her hardest to stay cool as she looked at you so proudly. Your immediate family had come up to congratulate you before letting your friends celebrate you.

After receiving hugs and congratulatory messages from everyone, taking many photos from the Photo Booth that was rented and a little bit of dancing, it was soon time to eat as the sun was setting beautifully as the hues of pink and orange hit your skin. Placing your graduation cap on the hook of your chair, you faced everyone as you sat at the head of the table. During your meal, you decided to make a speech to say thank you to everyone.

“Hey everyone,” You greeted as all eyes turned to you when you stood up. “Um, sorry for interrupting your eating. Just wanted to say a speech to you guys.” You began and you heard Daniel Ric’s iconic ‘Ki ki’ noises that you’ve had the honour of hearing live many times. “Thank you Daniel for that, gratefully appreciated.” You smiled, causing the whole table to laugh.

“I would like to start off by saying thank you, truly. To my family for supporting me through everything, to myself for getting these degrees, to my friends that i have met along the way and to my loving husband for sticking with me and loving me.” You expressed, seeing smiles from everyone around you. “I remember leaving home, just graduated with my undergrad and i wanted to spoil myself and I took a solo trip to the Monaco gp with an extremely limited budget and i didn’t know what i was going to eat for that week but my younger delusional self knew that I wasn’t going to struggle because a driver will see me on the stand and instantly fall for me and well, that’s exactly what happened except now I’m the designated paddock mom.” You chuckled, reminiscing on that life changing week.

“Years later, I’m married to the love of my life with my master’s degree on lock, just hitting the millionaire status from my career and the best people by my side supporting me through and through. I truly love all of you so much and lemme stop before i ruin this makeup.” You laughed, grabbing a serviette and dabbing your eyes before tears fell.

The night had carried on beautifully as your friends had made speeches about how it was when you’d complain about your work load to them or the iconic moments you’d take your homework along with you to a few races. Having your favourite desserts and dancing with your friends until late had made you feel happy about everything that you’ve accomplished for yourself.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #f1 x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fic #x black fem reader #x black reader #fanfic #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #Spotify

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your-local-mom-whore · 7 months

Text

I’ve seen these around and I always love them so I made one of my own. May I present…

Redacted audio characters as things my friends and I have said:

“I hate when I can hear a man breathe.” -Vincent speaking about Adam

“I would’ve walked into traffic honestly” -Lasko

“In our scare men era.” -literally all of the Shaw pack mates

“I’m sick but in love.” -David

“I love when a man sounds like he’s in agony because he loves his partner so much.” -Lovely

“Imagine losing your job for being a slut.” -Aaron

“I take joy in ruining a man’s day.” -Alexis

“If I stabbed him then what?” -Darlin

“I look forward to waking up and being mean to him.” -Asher about Christian

“Yeah literally in between his thighs is my head.” -Damien

“ No literally why are you off script?” -Marcus or Kody

“She’s a liam girl.” -Angel

“IM THE DUMBEST BITCH!” -Guy

“Like I’m sorry I didn’t know this was a WHORE HOUSE.” -anyone speaking to Gavin (with love of course)

“Any man I see I’m gonna spit on for rihanna.” -Freelancer

“Shit made me wanna take a melatonin too, lord.” -Sam

“Can’t a bitch go sleepy?” -Ollie

“I just got feelings a year ago.” -Gavin

“I’ll be quiet and cry only a little.” -Lasko

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #I hope you guys like this #because I was dead making it😂

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munsonology · 1 year

Note

NO BECAUSE...Eddie getting literally swarmed by reader with hello kitty merchandise, her room is filled with hello kitty and Eddie thinks its the cutest thing he has ever seen

eddie watching you eat hello kitty pancakes and hello kitty shaped sausages off a hello kitty plate just makes him smile, he buys you more hello kitty stuff and by buy I mean steal because some of the items are drop dead expensive

he steals you a vintage hello kitty rotary telephone and hooks it up, he calls you on it and talks you to sleep on it, eddie wont admit it, but he loves it when you ramble on and ramble on and on about hello kitty related stuff, he just absorbs the information.

you even walk to school with him in hello kitty clothes, he walks with you with your hello kitty lunchbag and bookbag, you even introduced him to gudetama the lazy egg saying how its just like him

"Look Eds! It's you!" You giggle out pointing to a Gudetama themed hoodie.

You let him try it on, his face is all red and he can't stop smiling.

"Eddiepoo the lazy egg!" You tease and hug him, kissing his forehead.

He could've sworn he died then and there right there.

You’re in my walls!!!!!! My hello kitty jacket was delivered yesterday and I can’t wait to wear it I’m so excited

Eddie would buy you everything hello kitty to your hearts desire. He’d battle in eBay auctions for 90s merch for you.

He didn’t know how much of a fan you were until his first night over at your place. Your bedding was hello kitty and you had that little bunny and frog thing on your bed.

“Eddie that’s mymeldody and keroppi! Apologize!”

Then the next morning he awoke to the cute sight of you cooking breakfast. When you served him he couldn’t help but smile seeing this cats face on the pancakes and toast.

“Do you have a hello kitty oven?” He teases.

“They don’t make an oven…..but I have a instant pot in the cabinet,” you respond.

When the hello kitty super cute friendship festival comes to Indianapolis he goes with you. Turns out robin is also obsessed with this cat so Steve drives everyone.

“I don’t know why you guys are so obsessed with this random cat,” he complains in traffic. When you saw Robin’s keychain collection you immediately bought her a ticket, then demanded Steve drive. Eddie’s van was not gonna make you miss anything!

“She’s not a cat dingus!” Robin shouts from the passenger seat, pinching his arm. “She’s a human girl”

Eddie snorts and you glare at him. “What? She’s a cat baby”

“No she’s not! She has a car and a boyfriend”

“Is it a dog?” Steve laughs.

“Dear Daniel,” you and Robin say.

The boys groan not willing to start an argument they can’t win. At the festival, they take pics of you and Robin with all the friends and hello kitty herself. Eddie even buys you the hello kitty sweatshirt and matching accessories. Robin takes Steve’s wallet out his pocket, “hope you have a high limit loser!”

Later that night, you show Eddie your special sleepwear. You hop on his lap, your fluffy shorts riding up when he grips your ass.

“I didn’t see this at the merch table,” Eddie says playing with the straps of your top.

“This is from Amazon.”

He cups your tits, lowering the top to expose them to his warm hands. “Is this hello kitty’s sister?”

“No that’s her twin mimmy,” you moan. His fingers hand made their way inside your bottoms. He slips two fingers in your hot cunt. He easily finds your gspot, his thumb finding your clit.

“Who’s this baby?”

You grip his shoulder. “Cinnamoroll. She’s hello kittys puppy friend.”

“Cinnamon roll huh?”

“You said her name wrong.”

Eddie’s hand stops moving. You whine and grind down on his palm for friction. “Eddie c’mon!”

“I think I’ll paint you like my little cinnamon roll,” he teases. “Would you like that?”

He slips a third finger inside, your warm walls coating his hand in your wetness.

“Yes I’d like that Teddy,” you cry as a small orgasm washes over you. Your equally small squirt trickles out like a leak to Eddie’s wrist.

“Oh I think you can get wetter than that kitten.”

I actually went to the hello kitty super cute friends festival and it was the best time ever! And I can’t wait for the hello kitty cafe to come back 😭

#eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x female reader #fem reader #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson/female reader #munsonology #munsonology’s eddieverse

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player1064 · 2 months

Note

I love your drabbles. How about this this time it is Phil's turn to walk in on them during some heavy petting (on a sofa, under a duvet?) but unlike the others he is totally oblivious for the longest time, until he's basically going "haha lads why are you acting so strange, are you not wearing any pants haha :).... :) .... :) ... :l lads?"

YESSSS I love this honestly. Phil Neville voted most annoying younger brother in the world for the 47th year running.........

---

The beauty of living alone, Gary’s always liked to think, is that – well, that you’re left alone. And that if, hypothetically, you wanted some adult company then, hypothetically, you could invite your colleague/maybe best friend/maybe boyfriend over and would be free to enjoy his adult company on any surface you liked, because there’s nobody who could stop you because, crucially, you live alone.

The trouble with hypotheticals is that they don’t often factor in annoying little brothers.

So, Gary’s lying back on his giant sofa, enjoying some adult company with the Scouse bastard/definite bane of his existence/maybe love of his life, when they hear the front door click open and both freeze.

“Fucking Phillip,” Gary mutters, extracting himself out from under Jamie with a sigh.

“Thought you said his flight only got in later?”

Gary glances at his watch, swipes away the ‘high heart rate’ warning to check the time, and groans. “Seems we lost track of time.” He straightens his jumper and turns his head towards the open living room door. “Din’t anyone ever teach you to knock,” he calls out to where he hears his brother still shuffling around in the entryway.

“What’ve I got a key for, then, if I ‘ave to knock,” Phil calls back. There’s a couple of seconds silence while he pads in his socks down the hall, which Jamie and Gary use to frantically check they’re both presentable, and then he’s sticking his head round the doorway with a smile. “’sides, I thought you were probably workin’, since you didn’t answer my text when I landed. Oh! Hiya, Carra, I weren’t expectin’ to see you today.”

He wanders over, uninvited, to flop down on the couch next to them. “What a flight, I tell ya I’m knackered. And I couldn’t even get direct, neither. Absolute nightmare, but it’s good to be home. Julie and the kids send their love, they’re already asking when you’re comin’ over to visit. New house is pretty nice, an’ all.”

When he finally stops for breath, Jamie slaps his thighs and goes to stand up, saying “how’s about I leave you two to catch up, ‘s a long drive home for me, maybe I can beat the traffic.”

Gary shoots him a glare that he hopes says ‘if you leave this room I will kill you.’

Jamie sits back down.

“We were gonna order somethin’ for dinner, Carra, weren’t we?” he asks, inching his hand across to pinch Jamie in the side to make sure he behaves. “What’d’you fancy, Phil, you’re my guest of honour.”

“Ooh, I could go for a fish and chips, to be fair. And mushy peas, y’don’t get those in Portland…”

“Sounds great! D’you want to go collect, then, and me ‘n James can tidy up a bit round here.”

Phil tilts his head back against the back of the couch. “I only just got in!” he whines, “give us a break, just order it on one of the apps.”

There doesn’t seem much use in trying to argue, so Gary gets out his phone and hands it to Phil once he’s got the local chippie’s deliveroo page open. Phil takes his sweet time to pick out what to get, which seems an uneccessary kind of torture when his whole life he’s literally never ordered anything but a medium cod and chips with gravy and mushy peas.

When he hands the phone back to Gary, he pauses, tilts his head with a frown.

“Oh, Gaz, y’ve got somethin’ on your neck there, lemme just –”

Jamie displays the kind of quick reaction time that he barely even managed in his playing days and grabs Gary by the chin, tilting his head with force so that his neck is angled towards him and away from Phillip.

“No need,” he says breezily, lifting his thumb to his mouth to wet it like he’s an anxious mother trying to get a speck of dirt, “here, lemme see…”

He rubs his thumb against what he knows damn well is not a speck of dirt, which he knows is a fresh bruise by virtue of the fact that he’s the one who just put it there, and when Gary’s breath hitches at the pressure against it he shoots him a wicked grin because he is evil, he is sick and twisted and Gary is going to kill him.

“Aw, no,” says Phil, leaning in closer to peer at the mark, “it’s not budging, must be a skin thing. Are you getting stress hives again, Gaz, I thought you said you were takin’ it easy for a bit?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Gary says tightly. Jamie releases his neck and Gary shakes his head around a bit to get it feeling normal again.

When Jamie lowers his hand back down, however, it lands to rest lightly on Gary’s thigh, fingers curled just above his knee, because he is a fucking bastard.

Phil shrugs and flops back to where he was on the sofa, idly picking up the TV remote. “Anythin’ good on TV lately?” he asks, pulling up the channel guide, “I tell ya what, me ‘n Julie’ve been watchin’ this –”

“—Why don’t you go unpack, Phillip?” Gary interrupts quickly, because he feels Jamie’s hand slowly tracing up his thigh and he doesn’t need for there to be any witnesses when he murders him in a few seconds. “Freshen up before food comes, maybe, you were just sayin’ what a long flight you’ve had.”

“Ooh, you’re right, maybe I’ll even run a bath if there’s time.”

Gary nods encouragingly, maybe a bit frantically, and sits tense until Phil wanders back out, humming the tune of some silly little pop song.

When he’s safely out of earshot, Gary hisses “you fucking bastard”, and slams his mouth against Jamie’s, pushes him backwards and swings a leg over him to straddle his hips.

Jamie just grins against his lips, slips a hand under his jumper. “How long d’you think that’s bought us?” he mutters, “ten minutes? Can get a lot done, w’that.”

“Y’better make it at least fifteen or I’m not invitin’ you back.”

“Bossy, bossy,” Jamie says, still grinning, then he scrapes his teeth over Gary’s bottom lip and Gary forgets that he's meant to be annoyed with him.

“Was gonna call Julie but I left me phone in ‘ere, silly me,” comes Phil’s voice from just outside. Gary freezes. Jamie does too, but it’s much too late for either of them to do anything besides that, because by then Phil is already stood in the doorway flushed a bright red.

“Oh!” he says. He blinks a few times. “Oh! Oh, alright then, I’ll just – food’s in half an hour, yeah? I’ll just – I were gonna call Julie, and the kids…” he says, before practically sprinting out the room and back down the corridor.

Jamie just laughs, pulls Gary back down to kiss him again. “Look at that, lad,” he murmurs, “half an hour, eh? Could get a lot done twice, w’that.”

Gary’s torn, momentarily, about what he should do with this idiot he’s got underneath him. Killing him does seem tempting. He rolls his eyes. “Not on yer life,” he says, and kisses him back.

#WHO WILL WIN: gary's need to get dicked down or phillip's need to annoy gary #thanks for the prompt!!!#carraville #drabbles

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canirove · 2 years

Text

Red & Blue | Chapter 25

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“C´mon, c´mon. Where are you?” I mutter, checking my watch for the millionth time in the last hour.

After our time with the national team, that literally flew by, we started looking for a couple of days where we both were free and that would allow us to travel and see the other. But it was harder than we thought. Or at least it was until Mason’s hamstring said no more.

He is gonna be out for a month, and since Chelsea is playing away this weekend and I am playing in Madrid, it was the perfect opportunity for him to come and visit me for the first time. And with our anniversary just around the corner.

“Holy shit!” I scream when I hear the phone buzzing. “Hello?”

“Your guest is here, miss” the guard set at the door of the urbanization where I live says.

“Finally! Let him in, please.”

The moment I put the phone down, I run to the door, my eyes fixed on the screen that shows my front door, waiting for Mason’s car to show up.

“It only takes you a couple of minutes, where are they?” I say to it.

As if hearing me, I see the car stopping, and I run out the door, not bothering to confirm if it was him or not. I just can’t wait any longer.

“Fucking finally” I say, throwing myself at Mason.

“Hello, gorgeous” he chuckles.

“Why did it take you so long? I was starting to worry.”

“The driver said there was no traffic, that I would actually arrive early.”

“Really?”

“Yes, miss” the driver says, putting Mason’s luggage on the floor. “We were very lucky.”

“Oh” I say, blushing a bit.

“Let’s go inside. You aren’t wearing a coat and I don’t want you to freeze to death. Thank you very much” he says to the driver, shaking his hand.

“Thank you, sir” the driver says. “Enjoy Madrid.”

“This looks much better in person than on the videos you showed me” Mason says as he walks into the house. “And much bi…” I don’t let Mason finish that sentence. I push him against the door, closing it while kissing him.

“That was… intense” he laughs, our lips still very close.

“And I just started. Would you like a tour of my room?”

“I would love that.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Are you sure you know how to do that?”

“I do, Mason. Don’t worry.”

“Ok…” he says, leaning on the kitchen counter. “And you say one of your teammates taught you how to make it?”

“Yep.”

“Can you say it in Spanish again? It was very funny.”

“Tortilla española” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Yep. Too funny” he says, pinching another bit of bread.

“We are supposed to eat that with the tortilla, not on its own.”

“But it is so good… Back home it doesn’t taste this good.”

“I know” I say. “Now, ready for the fun part?”

“You mean the dangerous part.”

“Meh meh meh” I say, putting a plate on top of the pan. “One, two… three!”

“Holy shit!” Mason says when he sees me turning them together, the mix now on the plate.

“See? Everything is ok.”

“Do you have to do that again?”

“A couple of times, yes. You need to make sure it is cooked on both sides.”

“And there is no other way to do it?”

“Nope.”

“Spaniards” he says, rolling his eyes and eating another bit of bread.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Are you sure this is edible?” Mason says when we sit to have dinner, looking at the slice of tortilla on his plate. “I’m here for just 48 hours, I don’t want to spend them dealing with food poisoning.”

“You will probably spend them with neck and back pain for sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“Ok, ok” he says, trying to hide a smile.

“Should I try it first so you can see it’s fine?”

“No need” he says, finally eating.

“And?” I ask. Though his face already is telling me everything I need to know.

“This is so good, love. So so good.”

“I know” I say, grinning like an idiot while I see him devouring his food.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Mason, can you please stop fidgeting?”

“I’m not fidgeting. I’m just cold.”

“I told you to bring a proper coat. Madrid isn’t Ibiza.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“They are gonna like you and you are gonna like them, you’ll see” I say, hugging him so he stops moving.

“I hope so” he says, hugging me back.

We are outside my house, waiting for Marco Asensio and his wife Sandra, my neighbours and the people who have made me feel less lonely these first few months in Madrid.

“Sorry for making you wait” Marco says from his house’s door. “Sandra couldn’t find her phone.”

“I couldn’t find it because the last person who used it, somehow put it on his underwear drawer” she says behind him.

“Don’t listen to her” Marco says. “Mason, right?” he says, offering him his hand.

“Yes, hi” he replies, shaking it. “Nice to finally meet you outside the pitch.”

“Same” Marco says. “This is my wife, Sandra.”

“Nice you meet you” she says, giving Mason a kiss on each cheek, definitely catching him out of guard. “Didn’t you tell him about this?” she asks me.

“Oh, she did” Mason says. “But it still feels a bit weird. And who are you, gorgeous?”

“Hey, that’s my nickname” I say when I see him bending down.

“Sorry” he says. “But you can’t deny this is one of the most gorgeous dogs you have ever seen.”

“That’s Rome, our dog” Sandra says. “And he is one of the most gorgeous dogs I have ever seen, I agree.”

“Whatever” I say.

“Don’t listen to that woman, Rome” Mason says, playing with the dog. “She is a cat lady, she doesn’t get it.”

“Should we go for that walk now? I don’t want Chelsea to sue me for kicking their star in the butt and injury him more than he already is.”

“Ok, let’s go” Marco says, trying not to laugh.

“I would never kick you in the butt though” I whisper to Mason once we start walking. “I like it way too much.”

“Oh, I know” he says, putting an arm around my shoulders.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“They are really nice. Marco and Sandra” Mason says while watching me pack my things.

“They are. I knew you would get along.”

“What’s the schedule now?”

“My car should be picking me in 15 minutes. You can stay here until lunch time, or you can already go to Marco’s house, they said they don’t mind. Then you eat with them, and go to the Di Stefano together to watch me play.”

“And then we all go somewhere for dinner.”

“Exactly.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow we have the whole day for ourselves. I thought about going out for breakfast, maybe eat some churros with chocolate. Or we can order them and eat them here if you don't want to go out into the cold that early. Then we have a reservation at a restaurant, and then I thought we could go for a walk to El Retiro, this beautiful park they have here.”

“If we stay home for breakfast, what are we supposed to do until it is lunch time?”

“I don’t know. But I can think of a few things” I say, sitting on his lap.

“Can you?” he says, hugging me by the waist and pulling me closer to him .

“Indeed. But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Shame. Where are you going?” he says as I try to get up.

“To finish my packing.”

“But I don’t want you to leave” Mason pouts.

“I have to go kick some asses. Maybe score and dedicate you my goal.”

“Will you do one of my celebrations so I know it is for me?”

“Yeah... no.”

“Then you are not free to go” he says, throwing me on the bed and starting to tickle me.

“Mason, stop!”

“Say that you will do one of my celebrations!”

“Mason!” I say, starting to cry while laughing. “Ok, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think if you are tickling me.”

“Ok, fine. But you must tell me before you leave.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I love you, gorgeous” Mason says, putting a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I love you too.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #football fanfic #football imagine

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alexis-royce · 3 months

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Youuuuuu got it @windienine ! Updating an old post since the formatting broke on it:

Like any good OC gremlin, I have playlists for all my favs. The one I’ll put before the cut, though, is Kinesis’ theme song, written by Andrew Huang. He legit wrote it for Evil Plan. It’s both about my OC and it has a slick guitar theme that is just….EVERYTHING. It is the best character theme I have and I adore it.

Here’s a pile (though not even close to all) of character songs under the cut:

Evil Plan

Kinesis: Upside down - Barenaked Ladies, Defeat You- Smash Mouth, half the Dr. Horrible Soundtrack because of course, Evil Genius - Pat Benatar, Bank Job- BNL. A reader also once sent me “Sexy Supervillain” by Fanatical, and I laughed so hard I nearly fell out of my chair.

Alice: Science Vs Romance, Rilo Kiley , Do It - Spice Girls.

William: Vanishing, BNL.

Lemon and Lime - Sunday Morning - Maroon 5

Sire

Anna & Susan - Odds Are - BNL

(Cannot for the life of me find the rest of those playlists. I’m sure there were a ton. Anyway I know a fuckton of weird old musicals, it’s mostly them.)

morphE - Mage: The Awakening Campaign

Campaign Theme: Dark Blue - Jack’s Mannequin

Ammi: Esperandote - Rika Muranaka & Vanesa Quiroz

Sanguine (The First One) - Mister Blue Sky in G Major

Amical: Golden and Green - The Builders and the Butchers, Hurricane - Panic!, Killer Queen - Queen

Billy Thatcher: Every fucking song from Chess, The Musical, by Tim Rice and the boys from Abba

Hendrik Rakove: Hurt So Good - John Mellencamp, Lovefool - Spencer Day’s Cover, Love Me Dead - Ludo, Grace Kelly - BYU A cappella cover, Talk about You - MIKA, It’s All Been Done - BNL, The Show Must Not Go On - Harvey Danger, Circus- Drew Gasparini and Lindsay Mandez.

Talaiporia- Choke - I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Andrew Cross: Camisado- Panic!

Closing Shop - (The weird experimental meta campaign that literally ate itself)

Steam Rising - Murder By Death, Devil’s Calling - Florence and the Machine, Talkin at the Texaco - James McMurtry, Keepin’ It Real - Barenak BLOW BY KESHA BLOW BY KESHA GET MY SONG RIGHT GET IT RIGHT, Sometimes the Line Walks You - Murder By Death

Exit Signs- Slashers/mixed nWoD Campaign

Season One theme: What if I’m Wrong - Damien Rice

Season Two Theme: I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers

Cyril: Disaster - Drew Weston, A Little Irony - Tom Milsom.

Dea ‘Exit’ DeLus: When I Grow Up - Tim Minchin, Break Your Heart - BNL, If I Had a Heart - Fever Ray, Crystalline - Bjork, Still - Ben Folds, Come Into My Head - Kimbra, Dinner at Eight - Rufus Wainwright, What You Know - Two Door Cinema Club, Big Dark Love - Murder By Death, Bitter and Sick - One Two,

DRT: Bitter Rivals - Sleigh Bells, Passcode - BNL.

Swing: Boogie Feet - Kesha.

Deirdre Whitman: Welcome to the Ball - Rufus Wainwright.

NonPlatonic Forms

I’m Gonna Win- Rob Cantor Boomerang - Lucy Schwartz, Hate that you know me so well- Bleachers, Jericho - Rufus Wainwright, Guster - Center of Attention, Toe to Toe - BNL, Give It Back to You - BNL, Limits -BNL (I apologize for nothing I love Silverball), Blood - ANIMA!, and of COURSE- Dead Inside by Patricia Taxxon!

- Other characters -

Channery Keene

Artificial Heart - JoCo, Erase Me - Ben Folds Five, Desperate Measures - Marianas Trench, Haunted - Maya Kern, Cake - Melanie Martinez, Bulletproof- La Roux, Cassandra - Area 11, Stolen - Greentree, Guster - Simple Machine, Make Me Feel - Janelle Monae, Could I Leave You - (specifically Donna Murphy at the Sondheim’s 80th concert).

Chrome and Prism

Kiss with a Fist - Florence and the Machine, Langhorns - Spybeat, Dancing’s Not a Crime - Panic!, Thanks I Hate It - Simple Creatures, Sweet Talk - Saint Motel, This Is Love - Air Traffic Controller, Nothing Without You- Vienna Teng

Harold Ludicael

Consequence Free - Great Big Sea, Sea of No Cares- Great Big Sea, Don’t Threaten me with a Good Time - Panic!, Dust and Ashes from Great Comet, I Need to Know from Jekyll and Hyde; Boy Decide - Murder by Death, Spring Break 1899 - Murder By Death, My Type - Saint Motel.

#ocs #character songs #I think I also have a playlist for Gray Jacket but I can’t find it #I apologize in advance for no Academic songs yet #haven’t been listening to enough new music lately #But I used to burn CDs for my tabletop groups #I made cover art and liner notes with art for the tracklists too #And I also spliced songs together on occasion #the Keepin’ It Real track in Closing Shop started glitching in the middle #before turning into Kesha’s Blow #It was a way to both characterize the villain AND have them pull off a 4th wall break #The fact that I don’t do webcomics or twice a week tabletop sessions anymore is #like I took the weights off #if anyone wonders how I make so much stuff #it’s because is was forced in a terrible crucible #XD

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 year

Text

5 times Jake crossed paths with Fire Lieutenant Bradshaw and 1 time he met Maverick's son

i told you I'd write it people

to @redfurrycat and @emseebeans: thought you might like it so I'm gonna tag you here 👉👈

Part One | read on ao3

The Meet Ugly | 2.3k

They’re stuck. They’ve been stuck in traffic on I-15 near Miramar for over an hour now — the cars stopped not far from where they are, maybe a hundred meters away. There’s a fire truck there now, parked across both lanes, the lights blinking as it shields whatever is happening, and they’ve heard the sirens going on and off as different emergency services arrived but he doesn’t know what the accident was about, completely.

There’s been something on fire, for sure. The smoke that was floating around behind the truck changed from a black cloud into a semi-transparent puff, but he could still smell the nasty odor of burned gasoline and plastic penetrating the air.

They’ve already spent six hours getting to San Diego from Lemoore and Jake will explode if they did that just to kiss the doorknob of the base housing office — it’s almost five in the afternoon and their time is running out. They can’t just sit there in Javy’s truck indefinitely, they need to pick up the keys by six or they’ll have no roof over their heads.

Jake isn’t spending the night in a hotel either, not when he paid to be able to move in today.

And Javy’s truck doesn’t even have a working air con and they can’t sit there for hours in San Diego heatwave.

“I’m just going to check how long it’s going to take,” he tells Javy, opening the passenger door after the conversation stalls.

“Jake—”

He slams the door before Javy can finish and leaves, walking past the cars on the hard shoulder. There isn’t enough space between the barrier on the right and the truck so he walks around it, maneuvers between the cones that close off the road and looks around.

The accident is actually stretched out for another hundred meters. It’s a bus swayed to the side, a scorched-to-the-ground car that is still being managed by two firefighters, masked up and hosing down the remains, and another car that’s become a pancake through a run-in with the bus’s side. A group of firefighters is standing near the bus, two pairs of feet sticking out from underneath it and two putting blocks under the wheels.

There’s a rescue squad parked not far from where he’s standing, number 56 on it’s side, and an open ambulance further away, the stretchers already prepared close to the bus.

The door of the rescue squad as a firefighter steps away, two yellow poles in his hands.

“Hey there,” Jake calls out.

The guy turns around like a deer caught in headlight and Jesus , he’s a literal kid, Jake can swear he’s not even out of high school. He’s shorter than Jake by a couple of inches and the turnouts are practically swallowing his hands and face.

He walks toward Jake and starts, tries for a firm tone but that baby face is not giving him any favors, “I’m sorry, sir, this space is reserved for first responders—”

“Look, I just want to know when we can move along,” Jake says. “It’s been hours.”

“This is an active scene,” he says, totally ignoring Jake’s words, sounding a bit like a robot. “Please step behind the line designated by the red cones.”

He waves in the direction behind Jake and turns around to go to the bus. When Jake follows, not giving up, he stops again, shielding him from going any further.

“Kid, come on,” Jake presses. “Where’s your boss? Can I talk to him?”

He’s looking at Jake but glancing behind his shoulder every other second. When Jake doesn't relents, he shouts out, “Lieutenant Bradshaw! Sir—”

The walkie-talkie thrown over his collar crackles up and a smooth, deep voice speaks up, “Use your radio, Santos, and how many times did I tell you not to call me that?”

When Jake looks behind the kid, he sees a firefighter holding a radio pinned to his front pocket walking toward them, detaching from the group from around the bus. He’s wearing a red helmet with a shield with Lieutenant 13 SDFD written on it in thick letters, the oxygen tank still on his back but the mask limps freely clipped to his side along with a pair of gloves.

“Is there a problem here?” he asks as he comes close enough for them to hear.

Jake freezes as the deep, steady voice reaches his ears and puts his focus on the lieutenant. He’s standing tall, towering over Jake with his back straightened up, jaw set, a couple of dark smudges of dirt on his face, one making a perfect extension of his mustache. His tan turnout jacket is open, a black hood folding around his neck, and the fabric has a gray smudge here or there, too. He makes clear, burly strides as he walks, his hips visibly swaying even in those bulky pants and Jake can see how big his chest is despite the heavy material.

He’s hot.

The kid nods his head at Jake like that explains everything and Jake makes himself focus on the issue at hand. He got exactly what he wanted — a talk with the kid’s boss. Maybe they’ll actually get here somehow, maybe the guy will be reasonable.

“Jesus, kid, when I told you to do crowd control, the idea was to control the crowd,” he says and his voice is light and he smiles, eyebrows slightly quirked, like he is amused to see Jake there.

“Maybe if you didn’t employ middle schoolers, we wouldn’t have been waiting here for hours,” Jake spat out as his brain short-circuited.

The kid takes a step back, hiding half-behind the lieutenant. He really is just a kid.

“Go learn how to use the lift bags, Santos, I’ve got this,” he orders. The kid moves without hesitating. The lieutenant grabs his radio, clicks a button, and adds, “Andre, the kid is coming your way, make use of him. Over.”

“On it, Lieu.”

The guy turns to Jake, shifting on his feet. The oxygen tank is metal and looks heavy enough that Jake is almost impressed at the grace his back is moving with.

“Okay, let’s begin again,” he says, turning back to Jake, and his tone holds an edge. “Lieutenant Bradshaw, I’m the current Incident Commander on scene. What’s the problem, sir?”

“We’ve been stuck in a traffic jam for over an hour now,” Jake points out.

Bradshaw looks at him, giving him a full glance over. He seems unimpressed as he starts walking toward the ladder truck, and tells him, “We’re doing our job as fast as we can.”

“Well, not fast enough, apparently,” Jake retorts, following him like a moth to a flame. “We need to be in Coronado by six, there’s no other way to get there but forward, at this rate, you’re going to make us late. Just one lane would be enough.”

Bradshaw opens one of the gates on the side of the truck, lifts it up to reveal more oxygen tanks and a huge sign with OXYGEN! NO OPEN FLAMES! In the middle of them. His profile shows the curve of his nose and the little curls behind his ear. He has a sticker with PARAMEDIC on the side of the helmet, too.

He unclips the harness from around himself, putting the tank in the empty line on the right side, and takes out a clipboard, writing something on it with an attached pen. “Should have left earlier, sir.”

Jake senses this is going nowhere. He’s running out of time, no matter how good looking at Bradshaw feels, they’re not sleeping in a hotel today.

“Look, at least let us through, just us, we need to pick up the keys for our house or—”

“This is not how it works, sir,” Bradshaw cuts him off.

And he’s adding that sir at the end but it actually holds no weight and it’s gritting at Jake’s nerves.

“I’m actually a real lieutenant, okay? I can show you my military ID, I just got restationed, we need to get there before six or we’re spending the night in our car,” Jake explains again, voice slowing down like he is talking to someone stupid. “We’re just really in a hurry here, five minutes and we’d be on our merry way—”

“Oh, you’re in a hurry?” he asks and he’s smiling but there’s something in his tone that works like spikes on Jake.

“Yeah, we are,” he confirms.

“Well, I have two dead here because someone has already been in a hurry today,” Bradshaw says.

Jake licks his lips and the silence falls over. Bites his tongue not to add something stupid. Fails.

“You can’t just hold us here for hours.”

“I can and I will,” Bradshaw says calmly. “Now get behind the barrier before we get you some zip ties and a free hold cuffed up in the truck cabin until the police arrive.”

He pats the side of the truck and looks Jake dead in the eyes, a fake smile back on his face.

Jake laughs straight into his face because that has to be a joke. “You’re threatening to arrest me? On what basis exactly, impatience?”

Not missing a beat, he replies, “California Penal Code Section 402a, lingering at the scene of an emergency in such a way that it hinders first responders from performing their duties, and California Penal Code Section 409.5, unauthorized entry into an emergency area.”

And he was staring at Jake with a narrowed gaze, the black smudges still on his chin, one eyebrow raised as he put his hand on his hip, uncovering the suspenders from behind the turnout jacket, his navy blue uniform shirt visible — the buttons on his chest are stretched tight, screaming to be let go, showing the see-through, sweaty tank top underneath.

Jake’s mouth is dry as he tries to concentrate on putting words together but it doesn’t work.

The guy is really hot.

The radio on his collarbone crackles up as a new voice comes through, “Lieu, we extracted the patient.”

Bradshaw turns away from Jake but keeps him in the corner of his eye, bringing the radio up. “Condition?”

When Jake looks toward the bus and the bus is now lifted on its axis by two airbags, the yellow poles the kid was carrying stabilizing it. The two paramedics that were underneath it are working on a patient, another firefighter leaning over them, and a path of blood follows them under the backboard.

There’s a motorcycle, crushed into pieces and bent in half like a glowstick, under the chassis.

Bradshaw grabs him by the shoulder, turning him around so he doesn’t look, and gets into Jake’s face, shielding the view.

“Life functions intact but pupils are still unresponsive,” is the radio response. “Ivan and Alex are almost ready to go. Should the kid go with them?”

“No. No, it’s too early for that,” Bradshaw says back, his warm palm still on Jake’s shoulder, but his thumb on the radio button. “Tell them to take him to UC Medical if he’s stable enough, he’s going to need Trauma I.”

“Copy that.”

He lets go of Jake, switches the button on the radio, turning away again. “Dispatch, this is Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’re ready for that heavy tow truck.”

It takes a bit longer but he gets a response, too. “Copy that, Lieutenant, there should be one in twenty.”

“So you’re going to open up the lane in twenty,” Jake quips and it comes out extremely snarky.

Bradshaw laughs but it’s humorless. “No, I’ll have a tow truck in twenty. This is an emergency scene until I declare it otherwise.”

“But—”

The siren comes through again and Jake turns to see two police cars rolling at the end of the close-up, stopping near the ambulance. They’re towing one of those gigantic bottleneck signs, the neon blinking.

“Look at that, sir, Highway Patrol has arrived, they’re going to open a lane for you, make us both happy,” Bradshaw says and he’s not even trying to hide how irritated he is as he grins through his teeth. “Now, go back to your car, lieutenant.”

And there’s just something in the way he articulates the words, in how calm and unmoved his voice is even as he’s sending Jake an unimpressed look, in how he’s cocking his hip, one hand on his belt.

Jake bites down on his lip, regretting putting his foot in his mouth — he’d have asked for his number if he hasn’t known he has no chance after backchatting like that. It’s too bad.

They aren’t going to make it to the housing office on time, anyway.

He walks back to Javy’s truck like the fool he is, the ambulance’s sirens going off as whoever they were transporting drives away. He sits down and sighs, not feeling like talking.

“So,” Javy begins. “Do you know when they will open up the road?”

“The Highway Patrol is going to open the opposite lane in a few,” he says as he reaches for the seatbelt over his shoulder. There’s a smudge of soot on his white t-shirt, shaped like fingertips.

His face warms up as he recalls the image of Lieutenant Bradshaw, his big hand weighing down on Jake as he stirs him away, the smell of smoke that encircled Jake as he leaned forward, as his bulk towered over him.

This is so inappropriate, he realizes.

Javy is silent for a minute, observing his wide-eyed expression. “What did you do?”

“I might have—I might have made an ass out of myself,” Jake admits.

“That ain’t new,” he points out.

Jake licks his lips and, with a straight face, says, “Well, there was this sexy fireman—”

“Oh my fucking god, Jake,” Javy gasps, staring at him in disbelief, his hands flopping on the steering wheel. “Please tell me you didn’t mouth off at a first responder.”

“What? You know my brain shuts off around hot guys.”

Javy huffs at him and Jake doesn’t know why he’s so surprised — he’s known Jake long enough. He says, shaking his head at Jake, “Well, at least this one we’ll never see again.”

“Yeah."

...

Part Two Coming Soon

#hangster #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #my fics #op #ignition tag #charlie writes

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