#tacos and hard conversations

[noodyl-blasstal]

number 9 or 19 for the prompt list for taakitz if you're feeling inspired? :)

Thank you so much for this prompt which is from this list (I’m still open to requests.) Sorry the reply itself is un-prompt (I spiralled), but hopefully you'll forgive me!

Read below or on Ao3.

--

Man, that’s going to stain…How’s it going?/ Well, haha, (doesn’t answer)

–

Kavitz screws all his courage to his sticking point and opens his eyes. He looks at the cake. He looks at his hands. He looks at the kitchen counter. They’re all still the same; bright red, unpleasantly sticky, and mocking him. The ‘icing’ could have at least had the decency to dry slightly in the air by now, but no, he’s made some kind of sugar based slime that is intent on eating everything - especially Taako’s worktops. 

Taako’s worktops… Taako definitely absolutely loves these worktops more than Kravitz. Kravitz knows this, everyone knows this, so why on earth had he decided to try his hand at baking at Taako’s house instead of his own? Maybe it was because he spent more of his non-death crime battling time here than anywhere else, he hadn’t spent a non-work night on the Astral Plane since well… hmm… and all his stuff was here, so it made sense, perfect sense. Or it would, if he hadn’t just committed a crime against baking, nature, and kitchens in general, there was no way Taako wasn’t going to notice.

He’s stuck, is the problem. He can’t operate his phone with his sugary murder hands even though it will absolutely be worth Sloane laughing at him if she can save him from this. Sadly it’s not like he can just go over there… although, no, actually, it’s exactly like he can just go over there! Kravitz reaches out his hand, and only winces slightly at the wet sound his scythe makes as it zoops into it. It’s fine. It’ll clean, and if not he can just tell people it’s blood and they’ll think he’s extra fearsome probably definitely maybe.

He cuts a very careful rift, if he can place it just right then… Kravitz leans his face gingerly into the rift and uses his nose to press the doorbell. He learned very quickly after Sloane and Hurley started dating that it was important to rift outside and wait for someone to answer the door. Sloane tugs said door open as he’s reaching his nose out to press the bell for a second time.

“Kravitz? What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck?” She folds her arms and gives him a look which means he’s definitely never going to hear the end of this.

“I need some help.”

Sloane raises her eyebrows.

“It’s a cake problem.”

“You didn’t!?”

“I…”

“Kravitz! After last time? And the time before… and…”

“I thought it might be different.”

“Because?”

“Taako’s good at baking.”

“And you figured cake osmosis was a thing?” Sloane’s lack of sympathy would be hurtful if she wasn’t entirely correct.

“On reflection, it wasn’t the best idea I’ve had in my life.” An understatement, but he doesn’t have time to properly catalogue this error right now. It can haunt him when he’s lying awake at 3am for the rest of his life instead.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not sentient.” He’s remaining optimistic.

“Yet…” She mutters.

“I gave it a bit and it seems fine.”

“Uh huh.”

“I know that’s what I said last time, but I really think it’s okay.”

“If I had a gold piece for every time…” Sloane begins.

“Please just help.” Kravitz must sound pathetic enough because Sloane just rolls her eyes, and smiles fondly.

“Okay, are you coming to me or am I coming to you?”

Kravitz holds up his non-scythed hand.

“I’m coming to you,okay. Gimme a minute and a me-sized rift?”

“Thank you.” Kravitz nods and splices.

–

There’s a shuffling noise and Sloane opens the door again.

“Why do you even have a hazmat suit?” Kravitz tries not to feel offended, he doesn’t succeed.

“It’s not a hazmat, that would be overkill, it’s a tyvek.”

“And you have it because?”

“Do you wanna know?” The distinct edge to her question tells him he definitely doesn’t.

“Is it for work?”

“Yes.”

“The flower shop job?”

“Nope, and you said you don’t wanna know anything that you could be compelled to give up in a court of law so…”

“So I won’t ask any further questions and should instead be grateful that you’re coming to help save me and Taako’s worktops?”

“You got it on Taako’s worktops? Kravitz! I’m going to miss you.”

“I don’t know if he can kill me.”

“Here lies Kravitz…” Says Sloane as she steps through the rift. “... The bestest friend a gal could ask for. I’ll miss his ability to transport me without paying bus fare most of all.”

“Thanks Sloane, you always know how to make me feel better.” Kravitz says dryly.

“So you sure fucked this up, yeah?” Sloane looks around at the general devastation.

“The cake might be nice?” Kravitz points with a sticky hand.

“Mmhmm.” Says Sloane like she wants to believe him but can’t.

“But… it’s just… yeah…” He trails off.

“Have you tried anything yet?” 

“Er…”

“Water?”

“I can’t touch the tap.” Kravitz brandishes his free-hand. Tries for a second time to banish his scythe, fails. Maybe he doesn’t need to mention that specific issue to Sloane yet. “It’s really sticky.”

“Right. I’ll try water first. Do you have sponges you don’t care about?”

“As opposed to the sponges I do care about?”

“Hey, Kravitz, do you remember who you live with? The man who cares about nothing more than his kitchen and nearly broke up with you when you scrubbed the cast iron? You think he doesn’t have opinions about your sponges?”

She has a point. “There’s some in the garage.” He starts to move towards the door.

“No!” Sloane grabs the back of his suit and pulls. “You stay here, we need to keep the crime scene secured. By which I mean you specifically. Don’t move.

It’s a good point. Kravitz is going to stay so still. “I can’t quite remember where they…”

Sloane’s gone before he can finish and back too quickly for him to think about in depth. There’s definitely no reason for that which relates to her ability to case a joint.

“I’m going to try cold water first in case hot water makes it harden… or, you know, go on fire.” 

“That was one time!” 

“One time too many, Kravitz. One time too many.”

He opens his mouth and shuts it firmly again. The ‘gift to science’ defence doesn’t really work when he still doesn’t know how he did it.

Sloane dabs gingerly at the very edge of the worktop spatter. They both lean away in anticipation. Nothing happens. “No explosions is a good start.” She  says cheerfully, as she walks back to the sink. “I’ll test hot now.” She repeats the leaning, runs the hot tap directly onto the red spot on the sponge.

“Is it helping?”

“Nope.”

“Soap?”

She tries. “Nope.”

“How hard do you think it is to replace an entire kitchen and also me in… er…” Kravitz glances at the clock. “2 hours?”

“If anyone can do it’s Magnus. Well… maybe not you. You could ring your Mum?”

“She’s not my Mum.”

“Then why did I have to get my parents to call her before I was allowed to come play and why did I have to call her Mrs The Raven Queen when I came to visit?”

“That’s manners.”

“So anyway, call your Mum.”

“I’m not calling my Mum… I mean. Fuck. Sloane! Stop laughing! Can you help me ring Magnus?”

“Why can’t you…” Kravitz brandishes his hand again. “Ah. Fine. Where’s your phone?”

Kravitz swings a hip towards her.

“Nope.”

“Sloane!”

She rolls her eyes. Hard. “It’s a good job I love you, you know that?”

“Like I haven’t earned this.”

“Hey, I’ve never…”

“Don’t make me bring up The Plantcident.” Kravitz side eyes her as she reaches for his phone.

“Urgh, you’ll never let me forget that, will you? I maintain it could have happened to anyone.”

“But instead it happened to you and I had to talk the bank manager down so he didn’t press charges.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so clean cut and know all the fancy words. Now, sssh... “Sloane holds his phone up to his ear.” … it’s ringing.” 

“Wait, how did you know my code?”

Sloane doesn’t answer, she just smiles unnervingly instead. Kravitz worries sometimes about how much and how little he knows her all at once.

Magnus picks up before Kravitz can ask any more ill-advised questions (because he definitely doesn’t want to know the answers to them.)

“Hello Magnus, I just had a quick…. Yes? Oh… yes… No of course I think he’s a very clever boy… No, it’s okay, you don’t have to put me on to hi… Hello Johann. Magnus says you did a very good job today. Well done… Magnus? … Magnus?... Johann, can you get Magnus?... …. … MAGNUS?” Sloane winces. Kravitz mouths a quick sorry her way. “Great! Magnus, I… No, don’t hang up, I rang because I had a question, you know the kitchen worktops? … Mmmhm, yeah, they’re incredible, how long did they take you to make?... Oh? A week? Wow… And that was quick?” Kravitz widens his eyes at Sloane, her face doesn’t give anything away. “... and if it was a rush order? Oh… it was? Wow. Yeah. Lots of intricate bits…. Mmm… yes, you’re right, it is a funny shape in here. Good point… okay, so if someone had say, for example, stained them, how would one go about getting that stain out?... No it’s not a sex thing!... Magnus!... Do you really want to know the answer to that?... I didn’t think so… Look, it’s a hypothetical question which I  need the answer to please?... Yes, haha, you’re right it is a good thing it’s hypothetical, Taako would be really upset yes, but if you could just tell me… you know, for the thought exercise, yes, right… It would depend on the stain? So if something was sticky and had food dye?... Magnus please, you have to focus… Okay… Yep… Water… nail polish remover… baking powder and vinegar… toothpaste… yes we’ll try that… yes of course hypothetically… no, please don’t tell him… Because nothing has happened. Everything’s fine. Sloane can tell you.” 

Kravitz gives Sloane a pleading look and she retracts the phone to speak to Magnus herself. “Hey Magnus, yep, all fine here… Ha, yeah, just playing a fun hypothetical game, you know how we do that… give my love to Julia and Johann... Yeah, thanks from both of us… Bye!”

“So water didn’t work, but we can try the nail polish remover and the toothpaste, and I’m fairly sure Taako has the baking powder and vinegar.

“Be right back.” Sloane’s gone before Kravitz can tell her where anything is.

He tries to un-summon his scythe again while he waits. Nothing happens. He tries again, double hard, it tries to leave, there’s a second where it might, but no. Stuck fast. The door creaks open slowly before he can try a third time.

“I didn’t even know it was possible to get magic stuck to you.” He sighs.

Sloane doesn’t reply.

“Sloane?”

There’s a skittering noise. No. Oh fuck no.

“SLOANE!” Kravitz yells, hoping she’ll hear him before whichever one of them it is can get themselves stuck too.

“Pss pss pss pss pss.” He keeps his arms well out of reach, and moves slowly towards the door.

It’s Tiny Taco, of course it’s Tiny Taco. 

“Hello there, why don’t you go back out into the hall? You can play with your toys and your friends. It’ll be so nice out there in the rest of the house, in literally any room but this room.” 

Tiny Taco struts confidently forward and rubs his head fondly against Kravitz’s legs. This is the most affection he has ever shown him. Kravitz fights the impulse to lean into it, it’s all part of the ploy. Maybe if he slowly shuffles towards the door?

“You yelled?” Sloane asks from the doorway?

Kravitz turns to look at her. It’s all the distraction Tiny Taco needs and he makes a break for it.

“No no no no no no no!” Kravitz tries to block him with his body, Taco dodges. “Sloane can you…?”

She tries, she does. She moves fast. It’s not fast enough.

Kravitz reaches out and grabs him.

“Kravitz!” Sloane thwacks her palm against her head. “You had one job and it was standing still.”

Taco’s already squirming in his hand, this is going to get ugly fast.

“Shout at me later. Help, please?”

Sloane sighs unnecessarily loudly. “I’m taking a photo.”

“What? Sloane, no.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Kravitz knows better than to try and bargain with her. “Fine.”

“Smile!” 

Kravitz is not going to smile.

“Smile or I’m not helping.”

Kravitz smiles.

“Okay, what goes best with cat? Toothpaste?”

Taco wriggles again and digs his claws sharply into Kravitz’s arm.

“Ouch! Anything, just try.”

Sloane shrugs and brandishes the Aquafresh. “Brace yourself.”

It works, eventually. Kravitz has fresh scratches, but Taco has been pasted (and slightly snipped) clean and returned to the ‘anywhere but the kitchen’ exclusionary zone with enough Dreamies to buy his silence.

“One down. Shall we try it on the worktop or your hands first?” 

“The worktop’s more important.”

“Oh wait, your phone’s going.”

“Who is it?”

Sloane checks. “Taako. There’s a few missed calls too.”

Kravitz smiles as endearingly as he can manage. Surely Sloane wouldn’t stand in the way of speaking to his boyfriend, not after how much he helped when she was worried about telling Hurley. “Would you mind?”

“Fine.” Sloane holds the phone to his ear.

“Hello Taako! It’s so nice to hear from you, love, how’s your day going? … mmhm… incredible… I hope you told him off… Maybe not the words I would have used, but as you say, it’s your school… Another award? Congratulations! Very much deserved as far as I’m concerned… How am I? Oh you know, fine… My day? Nothing much, just missing you… You can’t fireball me through a phone dearest… No, actually I don’t think you should try, if anyone can it’s you..” 

Sloane prods him hard and makes a ‘wind it up’ gesture.

“Ow… I mean… How is your afternoon looking?... Wonderful… Anyway, I should let you go. I know you’re busy… No no, honestly… I’ll see you later, I know you have so much on… Love you… Goodbye, Taako!”

“Gross.” Says Sloane loudly.

“Shut  up, you love your girlfriend.” She doesn’t have a leg to stand on as far as Kravitz is concerned.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong… I was actually thinking of… Wait, now’s super not the time. Let’s try and fix… you know, all of this?” Sloane gestures to the whole of everything.

Kravitz nods.

The layer of toothpaste doesn’t have the same effect on the counter as it did on Taco.

“Nail polish remover?” Sloane asks.

“Yes, whatever you think.” Kravitz eyes the clock warily.

It doesn’t work either, although it does remove the toothpaste effectively.

“Vinegar explosion?” Sloane sounds more excited than he’d like her to about this option.

“Did Magnus say how much to use?”

“Nope!” She says, happily, shaking powder across the worktop.

“Maybe you should start with a test patch?”

“Uh huh.” Sloane looks him dead in the eyes as she pours vinegar over it all.

The fizzing is far more dramatic than it would be on a small scale, he’ll give her that. Especially when it turns red.

It’s unfortunate that it’s still going when they hear the door open.

“Home, I’m honey!” Taako shouts from the entrance hall.

“Hi Honey, I’m Kravitz.” Yells Kravitz, automatically.

Sloane stops watching the fizzening long enough to pretend to puke. Kravitz glares at her. He can be gross in his own home. Taako’s own home. He doesn’t live here. Obviously.

“Where are you, Kraveroo? … Oh, hey there hi hello, Taco, most precious baby angel, how’re you doing this fine d… KRAVITZ!” 

“Fuck.” Say Kravitz and Sloane in tandem. 

“I can’t believe he told, we gave him so many treats!” Sloane shakes her head.

“He hates me.” Says Kravitz, mournfully. “We should never have trusted him.” 

“Kravitz? Where are you and why have you given the cat a shit haircut?” Taako’s voice is hovering somewhere between pissed off and amused and Kravitz would love to be able to tip it over into the latter category. He can’t deal with being in any more trouble right now.

He widens his eyes at Sloane, sadly she’s doing the same right back.

“I feel like we’ve gotta let it fizz? That’s what’s doing the cleaning, right?” Sloane hisses.

“Yes. That sounds logical, but how do I?” Kravitz holds his free hand up.

“You could poke your head out through the door?” 

“What?”

“He can’t see your hands if you’re just a head at the kitchen door.”

“Of course, thanks Sloane.” Kravitz makes it all the way to the door before realising his error. “Er…”

Sloane sighs heavily and dashes over to crack the door open before retreating to the counter.

“Hello my love.” Kravitz shouts, head poking into the hall and foot firmly wedged to stop the door opening any further.

Taako careens round the corner. “Why’re you in the kitchen?” His eyes narrow dangerously.

“I’m just doing something. A surprise.” 

Taako doesn’t look any less suspicious. “What’s that smell?”

“Surprise smell.” Kravitz smiles his most reassuring smile.

Apparently it’s less reassuring than he thinks because Taako disappears, and, if the “what the fuck?” From behind him is anything to go by, blinks into the kitchen.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Sloane’s hands are in the air and her head’s swivelling frantically, looking for escape.

“Cha’boy hasn’t a clue what it looks like… what the actual fuck is going on in here?”

“There may have been a slight incident.” Kravitz decides that there’s not many routes other than honesty left at this point.

“Slight?” Taako raises a single, reproachful eyebrow.

“It’s not all of the things. Just some of them.” Kravitz tries not to sound sulky, he does.

“Why’re you holding your scythe?”

“Uh…”

“Why’re you red?”

“Er…”

“Did you try to bake?”

“No.” Kravitz replies before he can remember his plan to the tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “I mean, yes. I did bake! The baking wasn’t the bit that went wrong. Look!” Kravitz points triumphantly at the cake.

Taako’s eyes soften for the barest moment. “It’s heart shaped.”

“It’s for you!” 

“And the red stuff?”

“I had to ice it.” 

“With?”

“Icing.”

“That you made from…?”

“I’m not actually entirely sure I remember.”

“Okay. Well first things first, Krav, Kraverino, beloved… you’re a skeleton. You, my guy, are made of bones. Meat you isn’t real.”

“Meat you isn’t real!” Sloane repeats. “I forgot.”

“Oh.” Kravitz unravels himself immediately and feels his scythe release into the ether, thank goodness. Not that he didn’t love it, but it’s a pain in the arse to lug around all the time, plus the drama of the reveal is always fun. “Thank you Taako.”

“Is this why you chopped Taco?” 

“There was an incident.” Says Sloane. “But I toothpasted him out.”

“And he only bit me twice!” Kravitz adds.

“See, cha’boy said you he was coming round to you!” Taako sounds genuinely delighted. To be fair, it is an improvement.

“So that’s one down.” Sloane says. “Just… this to go.”

“Have you tried, you know, magic?”

“Er…” There’s a long pause. A very long pause.

“I rifted to Sloane.”

Taako pinches his fingers at the bridge of his nose. “So just to clarify, neither of you, including you, handsome man, literally made of magic. tried any kind of mending, purifying,…” he lowers his hand to glance at the mess again. “... banishing?”

“Well…” Sloane starts, as if there’s any way to get them out of this.

“We rang Magnus!” Says Kravitz quickly. He can’t leave it all to Sloane.

“Ah, well if you rang Magnus, notoriously magical Magnus! Of course he would have thought to suggest all of the best wizardly crafts, he’s always casting spells, punch, chop, harder punch, Magical Magnus, we all call him.”

“Can you get rid of it?I think the fizzing has stopped now.” Sloane points at the still definitely-more-red-than-it-should-be counter.

“Can Taako get rid of it? This lowly idiot wizard? I suppose I can maybe see my way to trying, but what good could cha’boy possibly do against something so fearsome as icing?” Taako waves his hands dramatically. 

The red gets redder.

“Did… have you just made it stronger?” Sloane asks in disbelief.

“I meant to do that. It was just a warm up. Natch.” Taako’s voice doesn’t waver.

Kravitz tries very hard not to feel too smug. 

“Abraca-fuck-off!”

A small chunk disappears, but the rest remains just as vibrant.

“Fuck. That was high level too. Uh. Cha’boy’s out of ideas, have you called your Bird Mom, Krav?”

“She’s not my Mu…” 

Taako gives him a hard look. “Because, cha’boy’s just saying, these worktops, they’re good worktops, and it’d be a real shame if anything were to irreversibly stain them.”

“Taako, I can’t contact the god who oversees the natural order of life and death and ask her to take some time out to come fix… this.”

Taako raises an eyebrow.

Sloane gives him a look.

Kravitz snatches his phone back from her with his now blissfully un-gunked bone hands. “Fine, but I’m not communing, I’m texting.”

“She always rings you straight back anyway.” Taako says.

“Classic Mum behaviour.” Sloane adds.

Kravitz needs to spend less time with both of them, he refuses to be bullied like this.

His phone rings. “Hello M…y queen.” Kravitz glares at them both as they snicker. “We’re experiencing some issues with an, er, substance… No, not like that… No, we wouldn’t take anything that’s bad for us or the people around us… Thank you… Do you think there’s anything you can… yes. Yes, I know… I promise, this is the last time… I thought that maybe I’d be better… not just proximity… yes, okay, yes. Proximity… Thank you… I promise I won’t… I know I did, but this time I really mean it… Thank you very much… I love-you-too-bye.”

“What did your Mum say?” They chorus wearing their most pointed smiles.

“She’s going to have a look at it.” All of the fight has gone out of him. Kravitz has accepted his fate.

The counter shakes violently. Nothing happens.

It shakes again.

Nothing.

Kravitz’s phone rings.

He doesn’t want to answer. Less than anything does he want to answer, but he cannot ignore direct summons.

“Hello… yes… No… I can’t remember… I’m sorry… I don’t think… Okay. Yes. I’ll ask him…” Kravitz turns to Taako. “How attached are you to your kitchen?”

Taako narrows his eyes. “Very.”

“How would you feel if the counters had to be banished into a secure dimension?”

Taako’s mouth forms into a tight line.

“It may also not really be a question of whether you’re happy for it to happen or not because Raven checked with Istus and there’s a strand of fate which needs to be snipped right now…”

“So what you’re saying is that cha’boy’s losing a chunk of the kitchen he spent what feels like a century planning? That his best friend in the world hand crafted for him?” Taako presses his hand to his forehead and pretends to faint.

Kravitz opens his mouth and shuts it again. Guilt gnaws at him. He wants more than anything to fix this, but he doesn’t know how.

“Shall I tell Magnus you said he was your best friend?” Sloane asks.

“Take the counter.” Taako replies immediately.

“Taako, I’m so sorry.”

Taako smiles and waves his hand. “Honestly, Taako was bored of them.”

“But…”

“Magnus hasn’t really been challenged lately. I think he needs this. We’ll do it as a favour to him.”

“Are you…?” 

“Honestly, Taako made the kitchen with himself in mind, but it’s not just cha’boy living here anymore, is it?” Taako waves his hand flippantly.

Kravitz pauses. “I… Taako.”

“Tell her to do it now.”

His tone leaves absolutely no room for disagreement, Kravitz gives the answer.

There’s a brief moment of nothing, enough time for Kravitz to chance a tentative look at Taako. He meets Kravitz’s eyes confidently, doesn’t even flinch as reality twists around them and there’s a gentle pop. Kravitz doesn’t need to check to know the counter is gone. 

Taako smiles at him.

“I’m gonna head out. Kravitz could you…?” Sloane asks.

He cuts the rift without looking at her. “Thank you for helping.”

It seals behind her.

“I’m sorry.” Kravitz says again, because he is.

“You made me a cake.” Taako says again.

“Yes.” Kravitz replies, because he did. Regardless of everything else, he did.

“Because you wanted to fuck my kitchen up?”

“No! I, look, you made the me the pastries.”

“The date ones?”

“Yes. The ones from home. You spent weeks working at it and you didn’t even have a recipe, just me trying to explain a taste I can barely remember.”

“And cha’boy nailed it.” Taako grins smugly and Kravitz loves him in all his brash confidence.

“You did. You really did.”

“So you decided I needed cake too?”

“No one ever bakes for you.” Kravitz says quietly.

“Ango did that one time.” 

“Yes, that’s true. But it’s been ages and they got set on fire, and no one else does. You deserve it. You deserve to be taken care of right back.”

“Hey, Krav. Quick question, just a teensy smidgey one. Who got the shoe organiser after cha’boy kept falling over them?”

Kravitz tilts his head, uncertain what this has to do with anything.

“Go on, don’t get shy on me, who did that?”

“Me.” Says Kravitz. He’d been sick of worrying that Taako was going to fall over and get lost in a shoe pile and need help when he wasn’t there to give it.

“And who actually puts the shoes on the shoe organiser when cha’boy forgets?”

“Me?” It’s not like he does it all the time, just now and again.

“And who got the cats those extra perches to go round the walls because I was worried they were bored?” Taako doesn’t wait for an answer. “Oh, yeah, that was you too.”

“But…”

“Bones, you care for Taako in so many different ways, so leave the baking to the professionals because so help me fantasy Jesus if you wreck any more of our house.” 

“Our house?”

“Yeah. Now shut up and tell me what your perfect kitchen looks like so I can fix it.”

#Sloane and Kravitz are friends and I refuse to hear any different #Sloane #Kravitz #Taakitz #Taako #Background Magnus because nothing brings me more joy than one sided phone conversations with him #Can you guess which line made me laugh so hard I choked on my drink? #This went off piste and I had a great time #The adventure zone #TAZ #Taz balance #Tiny Taco is my favourite villain

[thoughtsfromataco]

I feel fucking stressed right now cuz I'm having to set boundaries (my worst nightmare lol) and I don't feel supported.

All I am asking is that we do work virtually with this one client instead of going to his fucking house because a) I don't feel comfortable with that, it's weird, and b) I don't have the time or consistent transportation to commute there several times a week.

The client said we can do it virtually, but he sounded very reluctant. I told my friend (who I work for) about it, and all he replied was "whatever the client wants".

I don't like it. Like I get it, but I'm not being obstinate for the sake of being obstinate. I need to know that this friend/boss has my back when I put my foot down with the things that are going to make this work for me. Even if that means making the client feel slightly inconvenienced. And that reply does not make me feel supported.

#taco thoughts #ugh #i am such a fucking people pleaser that knowing i had to have this conversation today has given me anxiety for days #but i have rolled over and given other people what they want their entire life #i know i work for this client and he is the one paying me #but that does not mean i dont get to have a say and set some boundaries #we have this client until May i have got to make sure this is going to work now in order for this to be sustainable #and i will NOT be made to feel like a bitch for putting my foot down just a little bit #goddddd why is being an adult so hard #anyway that's my rant for today

[chikaras-garden]

Batboys as your sugar daddy

What’s the point of all this money if you don’t have someone to spend it on?

Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem!reader

Contains: Sugar daddies. Possessive, controlling men. Power imbalances. They’re all a little toxic. These relationships are not aspirational babes. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked.

BRUCE WAYNE 💋

“Wear the diamonds,” Bruce rumbles from behind you, lips right next to the shell of your ear. Before you can answer, his warm hands are already on your throat, and cool platinum touches your skin. A hundred diamonds arranged in three dainty layers sparkle in the low light of Bruce’s bedroom, clinging tightly to your neck.

With the choker clasped in place, one of Bruce’s hands traces up and down your neck while the other rests heavily on your hip, holding you flush against his chest. His touch is hypnotic, pulling you in like a planet pulls a moon into orbit. Your whole world revolves around him—and that’s exactly how he likes it.

But like the moon, the subtle gravitational pull you have on him keeps him in place, keeps him stable, calms his most wicked of storms.

He bows his head. The way he looks at you through his eyelashes is almost reverent while he kisses your bare shoulder, skin interrupted only by your dress’s hair-thin silk strap.

“Beautiful,” he says, and you know he’s not talking about the necklace, the dress, or any of the other jewels and silks he’s drowned you in over the last year.

When your eyes meet in the mirror, one corner of his lips quirks up into a smirk, which he buries under a kiss to your jaw. 

There, with a quick, sharp nip of his teeth, he lays his claim. “And all mine.”

DICK GRAYSON 💋

Dick’s on his knees, head buried between your legs when you hear—feel—him say, “I need you to take a week off work.”

Well. What he really needs is for you to just quit your job already, but you got upset the last time he suggested it. Baby steps. For now.

“Why?” you gasp, blinking hard as you try to focus on the fact that he’s starting a conversation now when his tongue is making you smart and shake with pleasure.

“I want to go to the Maldives,” he says as if it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, as if he’s saying he wants to go across town, not across the world.

His tongue flattens out and dips into your weeping hole, and your thighs tighten around his head in response. He groans, and you choke out, “A week for the Maldives?”

You feel his lips twist and curve around you, paired with a little graze of teeth; he’s smiling, and the sensation makes you dizzy. There it is, he wants to say. You want more. Finally, your expectations are starting to match his bank account.

But he decides to play the dumb, pretty boyfriend he likes to make people think he is. “You don’t think it’s enough time? Wanna take two weeks?”

“I don’t have the—” He kisses up to your clit and gives it a tentative little suck, which makes you fist his hair. “—vacation days.”

“Why don’t you just take them without pay?” he proposes as his tongue laves up your swollen sex. “It’ll be okay, just this once. You’ll feel so much better after some time off; I promise.”

JASON TODD 💋

Jason is currently scrutinizing the contents of your pantry, a box of macaroni and cheese in his hand. After seeing the scowl on his face, you’re not surprised when he starts to lecture you. “You eat this crap?”

You raise a brow because he’s one to judge. “I’ve seen you eat an entire party box of tacos.”

“I’m not you,” he fires back. His voice is still low, still calm, but you can sense an edge in his tone; this conversation is about a lot more than boxed macaroni and cheese.

In the beat of silence that follows, his heated gaze dulls to a smolder. “You don’t know how precious you are.”

You open your mouth to reply, but whatever retort you were going to argue back with is silenced when Jason’s big hands cup your face, tilting your head up so he can kiss your forehead. He lingers there, and you feel him tremble. His breath is ragged, rough—as if he’s afraid.

“I’m not you,” he repeats in a whisper. It’s like he’s talking to a child, like he knows you don’t know any better. Poor little you—you need him. “Just let me take care of you like always, okay? How about I sign you up for one of those meal prep kits? No more processed food; it’s not good for you.”

When he pulls you against his chest and strokes your hair, you feel yourself nod, unable to disagree. You know he’s right, after all; and isn’t it sweet that he treats you like a delicate angel even though he’s seen the worst of the world? That nothing without his stamp of approval is good enough for you?

TIM DRAKE 💋

“Oh, you’re all set,” your manicurist smiles at you as soon as you take out your wallet, nails freshly done. 

Caught off guard, all you can reply with is, “Huh?”

She just smiles a little brighter, and there’s a sparkle of something in her eyes. It looks a little wistful, but also a little vapid—is that jealousy? “Your boyfriend paid already,” she explains as her eyes not-so-subtly look around, trying to catch a glimpse of said boyfriend, but you’re just as surprised as she is.

“For the next year,” she adds in a dry tone. Slowly, you drop your wallet back into your purse. There’s only one man alive who could figure out where you get your nails done, what day and time you like your appointments, and call ahead to pay off your manicures for the next year without you ever finding out about it.

So when you get back to your car, you call him.

“Do anything fun today?” he asks over the phone, pretending to be way more innocent than he actually is.

“Tim—”

“Actually,” he cuts in, and you hear a bashful tremor in his voice. That tremor makes your stomach do flips, which beckons you to give in to whatever he wants. “I was just thinking about you. You’ve got the prettiest hands.”

“Tim—”

“Let’s go shopping later,” he rambles on, completely ignoring you. “I think you need some new jewelry. You’d like a new set of rings, wouldn’t you?”

🔖: @mrs-kurooo; @lovely-loren05

#bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #red hood x reader #batfam x reader #🌸— mine. #🌸— bruce wayne. #🌸— dick grayson. #🌸— jason todd. #🌸— tim drake.

[drefear]

‘Nasty’ By Russ

Summary: Miguel finds something out about you through your recent music choices.

TW: praise, jealousy, smut, praise p in v fantasy, masturbation

You and Miguel started dating fairly recently, and he was so happy about it. He told Jess by accident while discussing you beating up an anomaly, and he just laughed and said ‘I knew it.’

His heart explodes when you’re around and can’t help but see stars.

You’re sitting with Jess and Gwen when he is about to ask you about a report you filed when he hears a conversation he was not prepared for.

“I never even knew he existed.” Gwen said to you, making you laugh.

“Oh, she loves him. It’s almost obsessive.” Jess emphasizes and you blush, rolling your eyes.

“I just- I like- it’s like-“ you stutter and Gwen nods.

“I get it, he’s kinda hot and he’s obviously got some skills, so imagining what he could actually do in bed is totally fair.” That was it, Jess’s words made Miguel’s blood boil. Who else were you trying to sleep with?

His eyes perked up as he walked away and passed you to his office area. You two weren’t in a committed relationship, he had no claim over who you thought about or saw when you weren’t with him, yet it made his blood boil and tension appear between his shoulder blades. He’d long forgotten about the question he was going to ask you about as he summoned you to where he was.

You two were mature adults, you could discuss your feelings without being childish and assuming the worst. Plus, Miguel technically already knew the answer to the question, or so he thought.

You walked up with a bounce before seeing the stress between his eyebrows and frowning gently, something he disliked on that beautiful face of yours. “What’s wrong?” You spoke softly and placed a hand on his arm.

“I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but I just need to know the truth.” He prefaced and you felt a knot of anxiety form in your gut. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He searched his eyes over your features and found nothing to give away your thoughts until a bright smile formed on your lips and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “This isn’t funny.” He huffed like a petulant child, which made you giggle more.

“Miguel O’Hara, are you jealous?” You teased and poked his bicep, making his nose twitch in self awareness which turned into embarrassment. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else. Who could compare to you?” You smiled wider and slid your hand up his arm to his shoulder, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. His hand fell to your hip and he sighed happily at your touch, but confusion was still evident in his expression. He hummed and you smirked, “Are you? Because if so, I’ll fight her for ya.” You teased and he let out an exasperated chuckle.

“No, not at all. I’m all yours, now dame un besita.” He demanded and you obliged, giving him a soft and sensual kiss.

Letting go of him, you walked towards the door, “How about we hang out tonight? Stay in and order tacos?” You mused and he nodded, sitting back and sighing. You still felt like something was wrong, but you’d discuss that later when you two were alone and could focus without the hovering threat of work surrounding you.

Once you were gone, Miguel instructed Lyla to dig into you and find any other man you could be seeing. Once your glow faded from his presence, the idea hit him hard like a punch to the chest. You’d just lied to him, to his face, and with a smile.

Never once while dating you had he gotten the impression that you were a liar. Actually, he’d found that sometimes you were too honest, so this was more than shocking to him.

He was so focused on some of the videos Lyla had been finding that he didn’t even hear Jess approach from behind him and start asking questions.

“Earth to O’Hara!” Her hand waved in front of his hand and he snapped his eyes to her, relaxing once he realized who it was. “What’s got you so zoned out?” She peaked over his shoulders to see the videos of you being flirted with in a coffee shop, then sighing in disappointment. “Stalking? Really?”

“She lied to me.” He deadpanned and swiped to another video, frustration setting on his lips.

“About what?” Jess inquired in surprise and he glared at the pregnant woman to his side.

“You already know, don’t play dumb.” He hissed, then gained a cold glare from Jessica, “I heard you talking with her and Gwen about another guy in the cafeteria earlier.”

“Another guy?” Jess gapped and then doubled over, laughing so hard she felt tears forming. “You are so stupid sometimes!” She choked out.

“Que?” He flashed an angry expression, bewildered at her name calling.

“That wasn’t about a guy she met, it was about some singer she was listening to. He released a song in her universe and she’s all hot from the lyrics.” She explained, smiling still. “You were worried about her fucking around with some other dude? No, she was talking about how she was imagining you.” She waved her hand and turned to leave, “It’s called Nasty by Ross, by the way. Give it a listen, if you want to know what she likes.” She let out a few more laughs before shutting the door behind her, leaving Miguel speechless.

His hands flew to his keyboard without a second to spare and he lowered the speakers. What did she mean by hot?

As the chorus rang out quietly, he realized what she meant.

Oh.

His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth as the words made his imagination come to life.

“Show me where you wanna take it

Grab the headboard, hold on tight

I think we 'bout to break it”

His eyes widened as he felt himself twitch against his suit, the technologically woven fabric straining against his half hard erection.

You liked this…?

He had touched himself to the thought of you before, but he never imagined if you’d been into anything specific. You came off as a girl who liked things simple, and for lack of a better word, vanilla. He thought you’d prefer missionary and soft “oh god” moans, nothing too drastic. Something he’d feared was scaring you away with his fantasies of biting you and drilling into you hard on his kitchen counter, or fucking you over his balcony.

So this was a very welcomed change.

His head ran wild with the ideas of what you’d want him to do. Listening to how this singer directed the song, it seemed like you wanted someone dominant with a gentle touch, you wanted to hear how good you could make him feel, you wanted him to give you a display of his strength while still keeping a calm head and fucking you until you fell apart on him. Soft, but firm.

He couldn’t help but inwardly break a bit to the visualization that formed behind his eyes, your delicate fingers toying with your clit as he watched, face creased as your nose scrunched from the tension you’d started in yourself, grinding into your cute little hands as his slowly guided his hand up and down the shaft of his dick.

He’d bend down just to flick his tongue against you. Just once. Just a tease, a taste, a smell.

God, how he wanted to smell that pussy. To inhale your scent until he was completely overwhelmed and covered by it, then moving to shove his tongue into your aching core and retracting it.

He wanted to watch you clench and grip around nothing, your body practically calling out to him without making a sound.

Miguel wanted to shove his tongue so deep inside you that you’d think it had a mind of its own.

His hand reached out to his desk as he sat down in a chair he almost never even used, letting the blue around his groin dissipate and freeing his cock as it slapped against his abdomen. His fingers pressed a few buttons to close his doors and have his watch on ‘do not disturb mode.’

“She said, "Spank me, that's the only way I learn"

I said, "Okay, good girl, good girl"

His tongue licked his lips as he thought of you from behind, face in his pillows as he caressed his hands up your ass, then planted a smack against your smooth skin. He’d watch the muscle jiggle and redden from the impact of his slap, admiring the soft mewls you’d make for him. Words fell from his mouth like dripping honey.

“That’s it, good girl, buena niña,” He mumbled and let out a relaxed sigh.

“I know everyone wants a pretty girl like you

You look so good when you put me inside you

Listen

There ain't nothin' like that moan when the tip's in

Good God

Look at you, you're doin' such a good job”

The song painted a vivid picture for him about how you wanted him to treat you, to love you. He inhaled sharply as he saw the image of your ass in the air, pussy fully exposed for him as he nestled the head of his cock against your folds and rubbed against you a few times, gathering your sticky mess to soak him before pushing in just the tip. The hiss he let out when he saw this in his head was almost pornographic, groaning as he rutted into the fist he didn’t know that he wrapped around his cock. More aware now, he spit into his palm and continued rubbing himself as he completely indulged. His mind continued its dreams of you, gripping his headboard as he pushed into you and bent down so your back was completely pressed to his chest, his lips kissing the underside of your jaw and whispering in your ear, whispers he didn’t know he was speaking out loud.

“Taking my cock so good, mi amor, such a perfect cunt for me to sink into, like a champ.” He growled and felt his lips twitch, so close to cumming at the idea of you pushing backwards and wanting to take more of him.

“Girl you're mine now, you were made for me

Cum for me baby, you don't gotta wait for me,”

Miguel’s fangs dug into his bottom lip as he tried to muffle his loud animalistic sounds, thinking about you so asking and tightening around his cock, fucking your through your orgasm as he watched a creamy ring form around his dick. The vision made his saliva pool on his tongue and he swallowed it, along with his words.

“Te ves tan hermosa así, solo para mí.” He grunted in Spanish and felt the tension growing in his dick, his orgasm briefly blinding him as ropes of cum shot from his cock, more than usual as he heaved in heavy pants.

You were so fucking beautiful and as he opened his eyes again, his spent still dripping down his own abdomen, his sight caught the current video feed of you.

You, hiding in a corner as you listened with your ear pressed against his office wall and your hand in your suit as you touched yourself.

“No fucking way.” He whispered to himself, catching his breath once more. Miguel looked around and had an idea. Poking his watch a bit, he called you.

“Y-yes?” Your voice was shaky, which he smiled at darkly.

“I need you to bring me some towels. I had a spill in my office.” He spoke, leaning back and watching the cameras ss your body shook and he could hear you gasping through your receiver.

“Be there soon…” you whimpered and he just laughed.

“Just get here quick, so I can replace that hand in your pants with my face, ok pretty girl?” His voice dropped and you let out a moan.

“Y-yes…!” You nodded frantically and swung to get what he needed, making him smile as he leaned back once more in his chair.

Part 2

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst

[erensonly]

You know how ghost always has his mask on, what would be reader reaction seeing ghosts face for the first time but in a way she doesn't know its him and she goes like "who the fuck is that??? 🤨🤨🤨🤨"

🍒anon

butcher shop buddies (simon riley x reader)

i dont know why i laughed so hard at this. thanks for the ask!! oh can i call you cherry-berry anon?

warnings: fluff, ooc ghost, not proofread sorry, use of 'pretty' and 'cute', no use of pronouns but i may use them in future parts, dad joke, probably incorrect butcher information, i was hungry writing this.

please feel free to message me and let me know if i missed any warnings

----

maybe reader is a civvie and she frequents this one particular butcher shop so you can get meat packages for cheap. this is the first time you see ghost. he's standing in front of the case of meats trying to determine which cut of steak he wanted, while you were there seeing if the people on tiktok were serious about meat packages being cheap. groceries are getting too expensive and you wanted to try your hand at birria tacos.

while taking a look around, you didn't notice the larger man inching closer to you. "d'ya know which cut you're looking for?" naturally, you flinch an take a step back. what is this mammoth of a man doing bending down to your level to help you look for meat? but his accent is silly but pleasing to listen to, so you give him a vague answer. "kinda," you say with a shrug.

"i heard they do these packages of meats that can last me a while. and i've been craving birria tacos, so i need beef for that as well." he silently just leads you to the other side of the case and starts talking to the man standing there. it's like they've known each other for a while. you tune them out to make sure you have everything else checked off of your mental grocery list. when you tune back in, the butcher is slicing some meats up and the man was still standing there.

"thank you so much for your help." this was directed at both men, but only the butcher responded with a "you're welcome" while the other man just nodded at you, before taking his purchase and leaving the store. what a strange man.

this is how you guys started to see each other at least once a month at the same butcher shop/supermarket. he had introduced himself to you as ghost before telling you that you could call him simon. he was actually a kinda funny guy. easy to misunderstand his jokes if you dwell on it too long, but also easy to laugh at if you share the same sense of dry humor. he didn't have much to say at first, cracking jokes at the wrong times, but other than that, there was nothing else for him to say.

i feel like ghost doesn't stop yapping around people that he's comfortable with. like he talks about everything and nothing at the same time. this is how you came to find out that he was in the military, he has family but they're the men from his task force, he travels for work often, and knows every dad joke to ever exist. he's a simple man.

he thrives on routine and familiarity. he makes it a habit to meet you once or twice a month at the shops, go grab a coffee -tea for him- and have a good conversation before going about his day. you ask for his number so you can communicate with him outside of your mini meet-ups and he agrees. now you send whatever meme made you laugh that day and a picture of what you were doing, and he sends you a joke of the day and picture of what he was doing.

he liked getting your cute selfies showing your outfit of the day, or the puzzle you finally completed after losing a piece a month ago, or his personal favorite pictures of you cuddled up with your cat pawl.

i feel like simon is a dog person outwardly, but he didn't realize how much he actually liked cats because he never had one growing up. so seeing you all cozy and pretty with your cat trying to escape your kiss, simon felt like he finally had something to look forward to. now he wanted you to see him for him.

when you walk into the shop, you're expecting simon to be waiting at the counter like he always did, chatting it up with his butcher friend. but instead, you see a blonde man with a black medical mask on talking to the butcher. maybe he's just late.

you walk to your normal spot to wait when the man turns to you and speaks. "how ya doin' today, love?" it startled you. who is this man and why is his voice familiar and why is he so attractive. "who the hell are you?" you couldn't help the confusion on your face; why is he talking to you. he just laughs and laughs, obviously finding your confusion hilarious.

"what did baby corn say to mama corn?" you were more confused. who's baby and mama corn? "go on," you encourage.

"where's pop corn?" this set you off. laughing louder than you probably should. "simon, how are you, darling?" you both had endearing names for each other even though you were just friends. it just came naturally.

"hungry. wanna stop at this one diner i know? they have amazing burgers."

that's how you find yourself eating a cheeseburger with simon who has taken his mask off by now. he was a very attractive man, not that you doubted it before. sharp square shaped jawline, crooked nose from being broken too many times, beautiful honey brown eyes contrasted by his long blonde lashes. he had a mole on the side of his nose, and scars on his face but they only added to his ruggedness; his attractiveness.. it didn't help that he was 6"4 with big strong arms, nice sized pecs, and on the rare occasion he would send you a mirror selfie without a hoodie on, you could see through his shirt that he had a nice soft belly. (my personal favorite build)

you were glad he was comfortable enough with you to be willingly vulnerable with you. maybe this relationship could escalate so much more.

----

should i make more parts to this? i already have a few ideas.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #my writing #my work #cherry-berry anon #thanks anon! #anon ask #anons welcome #cod modern warfare #erensonly #vivis.blurbs #x reader #black reader #this went on so long #i love him #bsb!simon #butcher shop buddies #cod

[pricesbeltbuckle]

Hey love, it's me again! *hehehe*

How would TF141 react to finding out that their girlfriend comes from old money and is filthy rich and her parents are hell-bent on getting her married off to some other old money dude whom she does not like.

Money problems - 141

Pariring: 141 x Rich!Fem Reader

Warnings: Violence?,Marriage arrangements,Fluff

John Price:

Well First it was the money…How the HELL did he not know?

He always saw you in designer, you always had your nails done and hair done, people always gave you looks in public and whispered.

And you didn’t really go out to eat unless the place was practically empty.

So when he found out to say he was shocked was an understatement he was astonished. But you then had to introduce him to your hell hole family that you hated.

He dressed his nicest and acted the exact way you told him to but your family seemed so bored and unimpressed.

“Right so…This is only temporary because we know a man who has agreed to marry you-” Your mom spoke up and you rolled your eyes tucking your tongue under your lip and Price knew that look he just sat there and let them have it.  “I’m not getting married to some stuck-up rich boy jesus christ! Every time I visit we have this conversation.” Your mom tried to reason with you, “Well we wouldn’t if you had just found a nice man-” You cut her off and practically screamed at her. “I DID HE’S RIGHT THERE!! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NOT SEE? SURE HE MAY NOT HAVE A MILLION DOLLARS LAYING AROUND-” “Listen ma’am I understand you want your daughter to marry someone with your kind of wealth but rest assured I can take perfect care of her-” You glared at John and he closed his mouth and let you talk. “See my point is I’m happy, how old is he?” “56.” “EXCUSE ME??” You spit your wine back into your glass and John held your hand under the table as he stood up with you.

“Odd, because I actually have a huge announcement.” And that's the story of how he proposed. In front of your pissed off parents and they were even more pissed when you said yes. But when your father got too old and had to pass down the family business to him? Man the look on his face was worth mass amounts of money.

What pissed him off the most is the business has never made so much money until John ran it. And you loved every bit of his sour expressions and dirty looks.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

So it was pretty hard to keep any secret from Johnny, not that he was invasive or over-jealous. No not at all it’s just because he’s so easy to talk to and he’s caring.

So when you told him about your family and money he wasn’t too shocked I mean he noticed the designer stuff and the people whispering, he absolutely adored you though and didn’t wanna make a scene on it.

But when you practically dragged him to a suit store and then made him meet your parents he was shitting his pants.

You all went out to a fancy dinner and he shook your fathers hand and your mother as well but they didn’t seem impressed then you all sat down and looked over the menu.

“So, we found you a man. 56, he’s agreed to marry you.” John looked up from the menu, shocked as he gave you a side-eye of worry. “What? Absolutely not. I took time out of my day to introduce you to my boyfriend who by the way I LOVE. I shouldn’t have even bothered coming, I knew this would happen!” 

John watched you yell at your parents and fight back and forth until he was snapped back into reality. “SO WHAT IF HE’S NOT RICH HE’LL TAKE OVER YOUR FUCKING BUISSNESS ONE DAY!!” And he cleared his throat and grabbed your hand under the table. “Well uhm…Nice meeting everyone here. I think I’ll take my leave with my lovely girlfriend.” And he waved them an awkward goodbye as he took you into the car, opening your car door for you and making sure you were settled as he got into the driver seat and put the car in drive.

“Let me guess..Taco bell and your favorite movie?” “Please. I can’t stand my family.” Tears streamed down your face but he rubbed your thigh and comforted you and made sure you were okay.

And to your word, he did end up running that company about 7 years later.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now he knew you were loaded, he just put two and two together and he didn’t care, even if you didn’t have any money he’d still love you the exact same.

So that being said, when you guys had a movie night and your mom called you and you put her on speaker he decided to listen in while he paused the movie.

“Hi mom, what's up?” “Hey sweetie! I have some amazing news!” You rolled your eyes and looked at Kyle but he seemed interested. “What? What is it?” “Well…We found you a husband! He’s 54 and he owns a very nice business-” Kyle’s jaw dropped and you were speechless. “Not that you’re interested in my life unless it benefits you but I have a husband.” “WHAT? And you didn’t tell us?” Kyle choked on air when you said this and you encouraged him to speak up.

“Hello ma’am…I’m Kyle.” He spoke shyly and nervously and it seems like your mother wasn’t impressed. “Well hello Kyle and what do you do for work?” “Oh nothing special..Military.” Your mother gasped and hung up and Kyle just looked at the phone and then you.

“Marry me?” “What?” “I said, marry me. Your mom thinks we're married so let's get married.” You just shook your head yes as he stood up and put his shoes on. “Where are you-” “A ring, What’s your ring size sweetheart?” “Uhm..I’ll just come with you.” You put on some slippers and followed him outside to the car and went to go get a beautiful ring.

You got married officially around a year later and yes he formally met your family and they got accommodated to him and when he took over the business for your dad the family just put up with him for money.

Your sister being the worst constantly asked but Kyle always declined due to the fact you didn’t like her so he listened to you and didn’t ask questions. He didn’t have a death wish. He loves you.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

He knew about the money, matter of fact he knew your family but did he wanna spoil the fun? Course not.  

So when you told him about the money he told you straight up he knew about the money, but since you didn’t mention your family he didn’t either.

But when you mentioned meeting your family he came clean, told you how he was your fathers security before joining the military. You gasped but you didn’t remember him for some odd reason.

But that’s maybe because he lied, he knew your father because he may or may not have been a hitman back in the day..But we’ll get into that later, maybe.

So when you took him to meet your parents he presented himself nice and your father seemed off, but you decided to keep quiet. But then your mother started speaking about marriage

“Ah, Sucks she’s already married to me.” “WHAT? IS THIS TRUE?” You nodded and showed your ring to her and he showed his wedding band like a trophy.

Was it maybe set up because you knew your parents would go nuts? Yeah but did you guys actually get married a year later? Yeah!

You and Ghost did eventually take over the company but you do most of the work due to his deployments but whenever he’s home he does as much as he can and he does whatever you ask of him.

Did it now come to light about him being your fathers hitman? No. He never told you and neither did your father.

Ghost didn’t wanna see his sweet angel worry about old problems that were already taken care of.

He loved how innocent you were, he didn’t wanna ruin it.

I loved this so much, your requests always EATTTTT🙈!!

#call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #mw2 #cod mwii #cod smut #captain price #john price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #soap cod #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soapghost #soap x reader #soap mw2 #john mactavish #price #141 #mw2 141

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (Part Ten)

Word Count: 10.0

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

WARNINGS: Potential trigger of abandonment. Self Pleasure. Brutal conversations.

A/N: The story is gonna twist and turn and you may want to jump ship. But I hope you can trust that as your captain I’m gonna get our two leads to a safe and happy shore.

Hours after the heat has cooled from his veins Joel calls you. With a pounding heart he holds the phone to his ear and silently begs the universe to help him. To have you forgive him his initial devastation. 

You don't answer. 

You're on a train. You're on a plane, he tells himself. You'll call him when you stop.

But you don't. 

For the next two weeks Joel calls you every day leaving messages asking you to explain what's going on. He doesn't ask Maria anything because it feels like an overstep. He don't know how much she knows about you two. 

But he needs to know you're okay. He tells you that he wants to be there for you, that he's sorry he left in a huff. He'll go to wherever you are if you'll just call him back. 

He wants to prove that he'll be there you just need to call him back so he knows if he's overstepping or not. 

He even tries texting. Just one word.

Please.

You never answer him. You don't text or call or make contact with him in any way. 

When at Christmas dinner with Tommy, Maria and Sarah he overhears from Tommy that you've contacted Maria, that you're safe, Joel feels extreme relief and then a crashing devastation.  

On New Years Eve he gets spectacularly drunk and spends hours thinking about you. He considers asking Maria where the fuck you are. He wants an address. He'll fly wherever you are and see you and make you explain. He'll make you listen to him apologize. He'll do anything to be in the warm sun of your smile. 

But when he sobers that first day of a new year and he realizes it's going on week three of radio silence getting you, something starts to shift. 

He doesn't tell Maria or Tommy about you two. Why would he? There's nothing to tell is there? You were never his and he was a fucking idiot for thinking you were. 

Joel doesn't get to have things like Tommy does. Joel gets wives who leave him. Joel works hard and gets things taken from him. 

Over a glum lunch Sarah, who had been so distracted by Christmas gifts and parties and Santa, asks where you are. It's the sight of her concerned face, the panic that you're not coming back that strengthens his resolve. 

For the first time in almost three weeks he doesn't try to contact you. 

///

Then it's January.

You never call.

He stops waiting for you to. 

///

The wheels of your plane touchdown in Austin the first week of February. It's been six weeks since you were last here. 

You've used up all your vacation time. Poor Alex had been called upon to run things the entire time. But you'd called to check in, helping with what you could over the phone. 

You're paler than when you left, your face more pinched. Maria notices this when you exit the airport and approach the car dragging your suitcase behind you. 

"Missed you. Ready to go?"

You nod, letting her embrace you. She knows not to ask anything about your trip. You made that clear on the phone earlier then week. 

She drives you through the nearest Tacodeli to get a breakfast taco, something you've been craving all month. Something you can't get back in Chicago.

You think about returning to work. It seems impossible. Everything seems impossible. 

You swallow your breakfast thoughtfully, your eyes going to Maria driving solemnly. 

 "How are things with Tommy?"

"Good," Maria replies in a voice that sounds tight. You make a mental note to touch on that later. 

"Frank and Bill still adorable as fuck?"

Maria relaxes at this and starts giggling. "Frank wants to plan this big Valentine's getaway and Bill's nagging him about budgeting. Says they spent enough on their Christmas party."

"Valentine's?" Your brows furrows as you observe the rapid passing of time. "Wow I didn't realize how..."

You trail off, biting into your taco and watching the passing scenery. You tilt your head back against the seat, your heart hammering as you think of the next topic you want to touch on but can't.

Joel. 

When you get home Maria orders you to change into the pyjamas she gives you before joining her upstairs. You do so, leaving your suitcase on the bed before opening the bag she gave you to see candy cane nightgown. You laugh, pulling it on and entering into her place smiling widely.

She's decked the entire living room out to look like Christmas. The artificial tree in your place has been brought upstairs, along with all the twinkle lights. 

Maria is wearing a gingerbread man robe and she laughs at your reaction, bringing you over a hot cocoa. 

'Maria," you say motioning to the room. "What the fuck-"

"You missed Christmas!" 

She sits you down cross legged on the sofa before bringing out a large armful of gifts. 

"You still have presents, to open," Maria says dumping the lot into your lap. She sits back in her chair sipping her warm drink and looking on at you like a proud mother on Christmas morning. 

You laugh again before you start tearing into your gifts. A sweater you’d been eyeing and a biography on Jane Goodall. Both from Maria and both perfect.

There at the bottom of the pile is a rectangular box. You're curious as there's no name on the outside, no card. Maria eyes it curiously as you tear the paper open, pausing as you see its contents: two photo frames.

You feel a ragged breath escape you as you bring the frame out of the box, your fingers trembling.

It's the photo of you and your parents. The one from your fifth birthday where your arms are hooked around their necks. The one ruined in the flood, the one you thought you'd lost forever.  

You glance up at Maria's tensed face. 

"Is this from you?"

Maria shakes her head. "Uh, Joel actually asked me to get the photos for you. I called your mom and she had copies."

You stare at the photo, your fingers tracing your youthful face behind the glass. You reach in the box to grab the second frame and are not surprised to see the blurry photo of Pongo you thought was gone forever. 

Your eyes are wet, so filled with tears that when you blink they spill over your warm cheeks effortlessly. 

"When?" 

"Back in September I think? Right after the flood," Maria says as you sniffle. "He asked me not to tell you in case I couldn’t get the photos. Think he said he made the frames himself. Tommy says he likes to wood carve."

He'd done this month's before. Back when you were convinced he still hated you. He'd spent time making the beautifully carved frames for two photos you said meant so much to you. 

"He said he didn't get me anything," you say in a quiet voice. 

Your fingertips are slipping along the wood frame of the photo. Little details have been carved into them. Flowers and hearts for your Mom and Dad. Little butterflies and paw prints for Pongo.

Hours later after the presents have been opened and Maria has forced you to eat the expansive holiday meal that has you feeling sated but bloated. When the sun has set and you feel yourself getting drowsy you take your gifts and go back downstairs.

You put the photos on your fireplace mantle. They’re beautiful there.

Then you crawl into bed, pulling the covers over you.

It's a week and several forced meals and showers from Maria later that you emerge from your cocoon ready to face the world again. 

You know who you want to contact first. 

///

The thing is your last meeting with Joel is kinda blurry. Obviously the night before had been the the sexiest you've ever experienced in your entire life. Joel's face when you told him you needed him in your mouth will be forever etched in the deepest recesses of your brain. 

It's just the next morning that you can't recall. You'd been so tired, so distracted. You know he'd come to get you for breakfast and that you'd told him you couldn't make it. 

But that's all. You hadn't even waited for his reply before your mind had been distracted by thoughts of plane rides and taxis and you'd started closing the door. 

His messages in the following weeks had been devastating. Apologizing for not waiting. His voice rough with emotion as he begged you to call him back. 

The thing is you'd felt no anger towards Joel. Not at all. Him leaving so abruptly had significantly lessened your burden that day. You'd wanted to be alone. 

Before Joel you had Paul and before Paul you'd had yourself. You'd never been able to count on men. And you're confused why Joel carries this heavy burden, as if he thinks he was supposed to come in and chase away your demons.

You never wanted him for that.

You wanted him because in the darkest of days he's the sun.

But now you know that you just have to call him. You tell yourself you don’t have to tell him everything that happened. But you do need to speak to him. He deserves some sort of an explanation.

"Hello?"

After so many weeks of not talking to Joel, just the familiar rumble of his voice causes your insides to melt. Neediness travels through your veins at the first sound of Joel's low rasp. 

You'd thought this was a good idea. A way to phone and explain yourself. But now? Now it seems like the worst thing you could have done. You should have done this in person. You should have done in when you could have held his hand in yours. 

"Uh, hi," you say suddenly anxious. "How are-"

"What do you need?"

Joel's voice is quiet but sharp, stabbing into your ear.   

You hadn't been expecting that. Maybe you were naive, but you'd thought that maybe he'd be kind. Soft and gentle like the Joel you know. 

But of course he's upset. Wouldn't you be? From his perspective you'd promised not to run and then done exactly that. Even if you had a good reason, even if. . . 

Suddenly there's the sound of Sarah in the background and cutlery being placed on the table and you feel your breath leave you. 

Sarah.

Your sweet, little bug. 

Your heart pangs at the sound of her little giggles. You want to be there in the house, hugging her, kissing Joel. You want to be back in their universe. You want that comfort, that security. You want the warmth of being with the Millers.

But in order to do that you need to be honest with Joel. You need to tell him everything even if it hurts.  You can trust him. You can tell him.

"I know it's been a while since we spoke."

Silence. His disinterest is palpable, so much so that you're shocked he answered the phone in the first place.

"I just wanted to explain what happened."

"Not necessary." 

You feel as if you've been slapped across the face. The brutality in how he's speaking feels physical.

"Joel, I just-"

"Are you wanting dessert?"

You feel your stomach bottoming out at the sound of a woman's voice on the other end of the line. Her voice is husky and warm and it sounds like the tone of woman comfortable in her surroundings.

And you know in that moment that it’s too late.

You’re too late.

"Yep, just finishing up here," Joel calls back. There's a pause and you can almost feel his jaw flexing through the phone. "Anything else?"

Disappointment isn't even close to how you feel right now. You close your eyes and feel your chin tremble. 

"Nope," you say quietly shaking your head. "That's everything."

"Bye."

///

Alex is elated to have you back at work. She’s not a demonstrative person by any means, but when you come into the office your first day back with a package of VooDoo Donuts as thanks for her hard work, she wraps you in a tight hug and welcomes you back.

You settle into your office, hanging your jacket and your eyes draw outside to the kennels. They’re built. They look stunning and sturdy and Alex tells you they’ve been able to be used in the time you’ve been gone.

Joel will have no need to come back here. His job is done. Another way he is slowly being pulled out of your world.

When you’re settled in for the day Alex comes into your office and drops a sheet of paper on your desk. She’s smiling widely, almost bouncing on her heels. You read it over twice before the news hits you.

The sanctuary has been approved. The grant is coming your way.

For the first time in weeks, you feel true, untarnished joy.

///

You and Maria are both on your sofa and holding magazines on your laps. This is one tradition that you've never lost over years, the catch up over wine and magazines. 

You like the ones on fashion and movies, Maria likes ones like architectural digest and celebrity gossip. Normally you share the articles that catch your interest, but tonight Maria is withdrawn. You sensed it the moment she came into your suite laden with magazines.

You watch Maria perched on the end of the sofa, her legs curled up underneath her. She's biting the skin around her fingernails, a classic sign that something is wrong and when you prompt her, she turns her large eyes on you and you can see they are filled with tears.

"I'm worried Tommy's cheating on me."

You weren't prepared for that to come out of her mouth. You place your wineglass on the coffee table and fix her with a look you hope conveys your disbelief. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" 

"He's so busy I never see him and when I do he's so . . . Distracted." Maria sighs heavily. "And he's getting secretive."

This catches your attention and not in a good way. Secretive is not the kind of word you want to hear in a relationship. 

"Like how?"

"I asked him where he was last Friday because he was late picking me up from one of the showings. He told me he had a real long meeting at the Bison. But then I'm having coffee with my real estate friend Melanie on Sunday and she says she saw Tommy that same day in Cedar Park."

"Was he with anyone?"

"Mel says he was with some woman that she didn’t recognize.”

“It was probably a meeting for the company.”

“If it was then why lie about where he was?”

You've never seen Maria like this. She doesn't get like this over men. She's the one to break things off at the first sign of trepidation. With Tommy and Joel's company doing so well she has been seeing less and less of him and it's obviously taking a toll. 

“Tommy is not like that,” you insist, even thought your stomach wobbles. “I see how he is with you. How he looks at you. He’s fucking crazy about you.”

Maria shrugs.

"I’m sure the woman he was meeting with was a client. And he hasn’t been around as much because he's busy with that new army base project," you say patiently. "And you know Tommy and Joel, they're meticulous. They take their time doing everything perfectly. He's probably just so focused on the project now that he can't think of anything else."

Oh yes, the Miller boys take their time. You know from experience with the elder Miller.  

Stop it.

"You're probably right," Maria says but you can tell she doesn't believe you. You want to press it but you don't. Maria knows she can come to you when she's ready. You stand up and go to your record player, popping on one of your favorite vinyls and plopping back onto the sofa. 

Her mood has lifted slightly and she points out a kitchen she’s inspired by. You listen but your mind is far away on Rancher Lane.

Joel.

Fuck, you wish you could stop thinking about him. But now that you've known him in this carnal capacity it seems impossible to go back. You think about his broad shoulders, the way his mouth felt against yours. So soft and warm.

During your time away a few things had become apparent to you and one of those had been that being with Sarah and Joel made you feel contented. Not just when you're watching Sarah, but also in those quiet moments when the three of you are curled up on the sofa watching TV, the laughter over the dinner table, the feel of Joel watching you from the doorframe as you tuck Sarah in. 

And you've fucked it up.  

You ran and you cut yourself off. The clear indication that you weren't interested. He shared the most vulnerable side of himself and you ran. You ran after promising you wouldn't.

Yes, you can blame some of it on the circumstances, but how many times had you looked at the phone and thought of calling Joel only to chicken out? How many times with a tear-streaked face and heavy heart had you reached for the phone as he called only to turn it off?

And now it's too late. You're too late you just know it. You fucked up everything.

Maria watches you go back to your magazine for several moments. She rests her head on her palm as she regards you. 

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened with you and Joel?"

She sees the way your eyes widen as they follow the page.

"Nothing happened, Maria," you say with a heavy sigh.

You can tell Maria most things, but this is a topic that you just want to ignore.

"I know something happened with you two," Maria challenges and all of a sudden you can see her how she must be at work. All business, her face flat. 

"Nothing did," you lie. "What are you talking about?"

You're pissed off. You have no desire to share what happened. You're humiliated at how you handled everything and going over it is just going to make the ache stronger. 

"That night when Joel came up to you at the party. He looked so upset."

"Yeah I remember.” 

"So what did he say?" Maria is leaning forward on her elbows. "Because he asked Tommy to take Sarah home. I was there with Tommy when Joel got home later that night. He was fucking elated. Couldn't stop smiling even when Tommy told him he looked psychotic."

Your heart thumps painfully. Joel was happy about you two. Happy about what was hoping to happen next and you fucked it up. 

You always fuck everything up. 

"Maria I don't want to talk about Joel anymore."

"But-"

"I'm serious," you say. Your tone is harsh, much harsher tone than you have ever used with her. "I've had a horrible couple of weeks and I'm tired of everyone assuming there's something there between Joel and I. There's nothing there. We're barely even friends."

Maria falls silent, adjusting to this information. You can tell she doesn't believe you at first but there's such sincerity to your tone that she's not sure. 

"I have nothing against Joel," you say with finality. "I love babysitting Sarah. But that's it. That's all that'll ever be."

///

It's Wednesday night and you and Alex have decided to go for dinner after work. Alex wants to see more of the places that the locals eat at. You decide on a Mexican place nearby, assuring her it’s the most authentic you've ever tasted. 

You both order drinks, chatting animatedly about the sanctuary when you

Tommy is sitting with a woman around his age. She's very expensive looking and she smiles toothily at Tommy as he speaks excitedly. They’re sitting close to each other, their shoulders almost touching. At the sight of this you feel ever nerve ending in your body pulled tight.

“Gimme a sec,” you mumble to Alex. “I just saw a friend I need to talk to.”

You and Tommy, while peripheral friends, have never talked much or even hung out independently of Maria. So it’s no surprise that as you near his table the first niggles of self doubt touch you.

Maybe it’s all a mistake? A misunderstanding?

Then the woman excuses herself from the table just as you arrive, giving you the perfect moment to strike and so you propel yourself forward.  Without ceremony you toss yourself into the recently vacated seat across from a shocked Tommy Miller.

“I suggest the tamales here,” you say coolly. “They’re great for sharing.”

Tommy looks terrified. His eyes have gone wide. He has papers on the table that he shuffles under his arm.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Better question is what are you doing here with her?"  You point in the direction of the woman who has just exited the table. 

"It's a meeting about a construction job," Tommy says but you can see the lie in it. "So do you mind-"

You lean forward across the table, your chest almost knocking over the Margarita at Tommy’s elbow.

"If you are screwing around on Maria, Tommy, I will personally see to it that you live the rest of your days as a dick-less wonder. People will come from miles around just to view you and laugh." 

Tommy is staring at you open-mouthed. You realize Tommy and you have never been particularly close. He doesn’t know this side to you. The side that will fight and protect with all she has.

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Tommy’s tone is strong but his dark eyes are owlish in his face.

“If you hurt Maria Tommy I swear on all that is holy, I will tear your life apart brick by brick. I will spend every waking moment of the remainder of my life finding out new ways to cause you pain.”

“I would never hurt her,” Tommy insists, looking both agitated and terrified as he sees the woman exiting back from the washroom. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later. But right now please go before she gets back."

“Why?”

“I can’t-“ Tommy flounders, trying to find the right words. “It’s just, you gotta go.”

"Oh yeah, wouldn't want to spoil your date,” you say with a sneer before picking up the margarita his date has left. “You absolute piece of shit." 

You throw the drink it into his face like something out of a bad sitcom. Tommy stares at you covered in pale yellow drink, bits of salt sticking to his cheeks. A lime wedge flops comically onto the table between you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tommy’s face has erupted into fury. You go to lunge for him but Alex has you around the middle and she's tugging you back. Tommy’s date has returned, looking between you and Tommy in shock.

"What on earth?" The woman is watching you being dragged away from the table. 

Alex practically carries you out of the restaurant, not letting you go until you’re both buckled into her car. When your heavy breathing has subsided she starts the car, not offering anything but a pointed look and:

“I think you need some new friends.”

///

When you receive a knock on your door later that night you don't expect a Miller man to be standing there.

Unfortunately it's not the right Miller man. 

It's Tommy looking anxious as he greets you. You glare at him, angry and then confused by his presence at your door. He doesn’t smell like margarita so you assume he had a shower at home first.

"Can we talk?"

You consider your next moves. Do you punch him in the face? No, you need all the information. Then if it's as awful as you think it is, then you'll punch him in the face. 

Good plan. 

"Fine. Come in."

You motion to the table, quickly shuffling your paperwork off the chair nearest to him so he can sit. You've just made yourself a cup of tea and offer him one which shakes his head at.

“Don’t really trust you with a drink in your hand,” he cites with a small smirk. “’Specially not a hot one.” 

You don’t say anything to that. When you eventually take the seat across from him he stares at you for what seems like forever. The kind of stare that has a million questions behind it. 

"Tommy what the fuck is going on?" You press him. "Are you cheating on Maria?"

Tommy immediately blanches, almost spilling your tea. "W-what? No. Never. I love her!"

"Because you'll never do better than Maria," you begin to rant. "she's the most perfect most beautiful woman in existence!"

"I know!" 

"She's not just beautiful she's also wickedly smart and if she wanted she could be president, Tommy. Not vice president. Not secretary of state. President.”

"I agree. Everything you said is true."

"Then who was that woman? Why were you being so secretive?" 

Tommy gives you a hard look, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He gives a glance around the kitchen as if expecting spies before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. 

"Please don't say anything," Tommy drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he cracks the ring box open. "I'm proposing."

Anxieties about everything are erased the minute you look to the ring box. Inside is a delicately carved gold band and diamond. It's elegant and no nonsense, just like Maria. 

"The woman-"

"A friend from an old job," Tommy assures you, looking down at the ring proudly. "Maria always wanted an heirloom ring. You know how she feels about blood diamonds. But it was hard to find a good one. Then Joel suggested Betty, that's her name, she works in vintage jewellery. Took months of going back and forth before we found this one." 

You feel so fucking stupid. "That's why you were in Cedar Park?”

"How did you know that?"

"Friend of a friend," you say with a sigh. He doesn't need to know that friend was Maria.

“Betty had a lead on a really good piece,” Tommy says with a sigh. “She said I needed to come out to Cedar Park to see it and decide that day because there was another interested buyer. Waste of a fucking drive though ‘cuz it was hideous. Not Maria’s taste at all.”

You look at the ring he decided on, seeing that even in this small token he sees Maria.

"Tommy I'm so sorry."

Tommy's eyes are amused. "Good to know she's got Mike Tyson in her corner. Well, Mike Tyson if he was a bartender."

You move from around the table and throw your arms around Tommy's neck, hugging him and laughing. Every angry thought you'd ever had about him is instantly erased. He gives you a one-armed hug back, laughing along with you.

"Oh my God!" You shout as you pull back. "When? Where?"

"Valentine's Day. It's the only way I can surprise her. She thinks we're going out for a romantic dinner and dancing."

You're swooning, knowing just how Maria is going to react. And now Maria's panic over her "distracted" boyfriend make total sense. You want to laugh and cry all at once, so you decide on smiling with tears in your eyes.

"She's gonna be so happy."

"Sure hope so," Tommy says smiling shyly. "But I need your help to pull out off."

"Me?" You're surprised and delighted. "Of course. Anything you need, just ask."

"Great, is there any chance you're around on Saturday night? It's why I came over."

Tommy smiles over at you looking hopeful. Saturday is Valentine's Day. A day you've been dreading since Paul broke things off last spring and Joel stomped all over your heart.  

You had plans that involved a bath, a big glass of wine and discounted chocolate. But of course this plan will be moved happily for your dearest friend and her future fiancé. 

"Sure, what for?"

"I need you to babysit Sarah."

The smile immediately dies on your face. You lean back in your chair, your eyes drifting to your mug. 

" Is Joel helping you propose or something?"

"No, he’s just busy that night." 

Of course Joel would take a meeting on Valentine's Day night. You give a half-hearted chuckle at the thought. 

"Did you tell him you're proposing? Can't he just cancel his meeting that night? Who meets on Valentine's anyway?"

"It's not a meeting," Tommy says, still smiling at the ring box. "It's a date."

The world tilts. You physically feel it spin on its axis as Tommy tells you this. The woman you heard on the phone. You were right. You were fucking right. That horrible pit in your stomach, the one you’ve been trying to ignore, widens.

"A date?" You say before you can stop yourself. "Joel?"

Tommy gives a quirked brow at your response. "Yeah. Some mom of a kid Sarah has play dates with all the time." 

The twist in your gut takes your breath away. You feel cold and shaky and have to sit down. Tommy is so wrapped up in his dilemma that he doesn't notice. 

You know who he's talking about. Fuck, you've even seen her. You can't remember the name right now but you remember the way she'd smiled at Joel when he came to pick Sarah up. You can vividly recall the casual way her hand had brushed against the small of his back. 

Tess. Yes that was her name. 

"They've been going out a few weeks and this kinda stuff is important to him," Tommy explains with a soft look as he pockets the ring. "Joel has always done everything for me. Sacrificed everything when our mom got sick. Bailed me out when things got too much. I think he really likes Tess and I don't wanna fuck it up for him." 

I think he really likes Tess.

Really likes Tess.

Jesus Christ that's like a blow to the sternum. You place a steadying hand to the table. 

Tommy takes a seat across from you, his dark eyes filled with concern. 

"You okay? If you're not feeling well please don't feel pressured. If you can't babysit I'll just reschedule, it's -"

His voice fades into the background as you think of your friend. Maria has done so much for you and she deserves the world. 

One awkward evening, that's all it is. And you'll get to see Sarah. Plus your best friend will be getting engaged. How can you possibly say no?

You can't. 

"Of course I'll babysit," you interrupt with a croak. "What time should I be there?" 

///

Later that night as you lay curled in bed sobbing you hear the gentle chirp of your phone. 

You sniff as you flip it open and bring it up to your face. 

Any chance u wanna get together for coffee? Chat?

You pause, looking at the text before closing the phone. 

You don’t delete it.

/////

Joel doesn't know how to function this week. 

You called him finally, after weeks and weeks of silence. Just the sound of your voice had made his knees tremble. He'd had to reach for the kitchen counter, holding himself upright. 

When later that week Tommy tells him about his engagement plans and having you babysit Sarah, Joel initially balks at the idea. He'll reschedule with Tess - she's a practical woman, she'll understand.

But Tommy had been insistent, telling Joel he didn't want to fuck this up for him. Tommy is so rarely earnest like that it had made Joel relent. 

And now you're coming tomorrow and he's what? Supposed to act like everything is fine? 

Fuck that.

Sarah is asleep and Joel has been drinking. He does that more often now. Not enough to be a real concern, but enough that he notices. He calls you without pausing to check if it's too late to call. You answer on the first ring. 

“Hello?”

"Hey."

Joel closes his eyes, a wide hand going over them. Your voice is so sweet in his ear. "Hey I’m sorry if I was a bit short when you called the other day. You surprised me is all and I had company over."

"Oh. Okay."

You sound so sad. He can imagine you sitting in bed, covers around you as he talks. 

“Glad you got home safe,” Joel offers awkwardly, wondering how he thought this conversation could ever go smoothly.

“Yeah, it’s good to be back.”

"Why didn't you call me? I left so many-" Joel catches himself, embarrassment covering him before he’s compelled to continue. "Is it your dad? Your mom? Or was it something else? Paul?”

Joel can't stop himself from asking more and more questions. He needs to know why you did this. He just needs closure. He hears your breathing on the line, shallow and tense. 

"I really don't want to talk about it Joel," you eventually say and that hollow, empty voice is back. The same one he'd heard that day he came to get you for breakfast. 

"Right."

Joel knows there are tears gathering at the corner of his eyes and he blinks them back. As much as he wants to talk to you right now, it hurts. Too much trust has been dismantled on both sides. 

Sarah's anxious face when she asked where you were? He can't have that for his daughter. He can't risk everything on a woman who'll run and leave nothing but silence in her wake.

Maybe if he was a young, childless bachelor he'd do it. He'd pursue you and convince you to tell him everything, to confide in him. But he's not young or childless. And you’re not telling him.

"I had my reasons, I just never told you what they were," you continue with a tremble in your voice. 

"Why?"

“It’s my choice to tell people things when I want to tell them. And I wasn’t ready. Still don’t think I am.”

He wants to push it. He wants to be in that room with you, his hands on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him. Forcing you to tell him what you’re hiding from him. He thinks he knows and it makes him sick. But he needs the confirmation.

"Joel, it's not supposed to be this hard, is it?"

"What isn’t?" Joel's stomach clenches when he hears your shuddering breath. 

"Being together." 

Initially Joel doesn't know what to say to that.  “We're we really ever together?"

There's a thoughtful pause and then your sad little voice again. 

"No. Guess not."

Joel feels absolutely sickened by this entire conversation. He didn't know what he'd expected when he called you, but it definitely wasn't this. This grim finality.

"I think I hoped if I just came back that things'd go back to how they were," you're saying in a voice no longer hollow, but still not completely you. "But I guess they can't." 

"No," Joel acknowledges quietly. "I guess they can't."

"But maybe we can try friendship?"

A stab to the abdomen would have hurt Joel less. He physically recoils, his eyes slamming shut. 

Friendship? He’s supposed to go back to being your friend? 

"I don't know," Joel answers through closed eyes. "I don't know if I can. Not quite yet."

Joel evens his breathing, knowing that there’s nothing else to say to save the two of you but dreading the act of hanging up, of severing the final tie. Then your voice reaches out to him, tentative across the line.

"Can I still see Sarah? Can I still babysit tomorrow night?"

Joel is quiet for a long while considering. 

"Yeah. Sarah would love to see you."

//////

Saturday night arrives and with it a bundle of nerves you can't seem to shake. 

Rancher Street.

The bus lurches to a stop and you hasten an exit, pulling your purse up your shoulder. The door seems larger than you remember. Taller. When you knock it feels like it echoes forever. The door opens with a quick whoosh and you hold your breath as two familiar dark eyes slide into view. 

Joel.

You see the flash of something in those eyes, something warm as they sweep over you before the chill is abruptly back. 

"C'mon in," he says, the tone of his voice unreadable. 

He's painfully gorgeous. There's no other word for it. His hair is combed, his shirt freshly pressed. He smells like cologne, an expensive, spicy scent. It makes you want to bury your face in his neck.

He never usually wears cologne. He usually smells like wood shavings and laundry detergent. 

The knowledge that he's wearing it for her, Tess, makes you want to heave. 

Tess. What a stupid fucking name.

You follow Joel into the kitchen and feel your stomach drop. On the counter is a bouquet of deep red roses wrapped beautifully. You don't have to be a genius to figure out these ones are for Tess. He's pulled out all the stops for her. 

It wasn't so long ago Joel was bringing you flowers. 

He's not even wearing jeans tonight; he's actually got dark slacks on for this date. He looks so fucking good, so divine, it causes you to physically ache. You remember how his curls felt under your fingers, the taste of his lips on yours. You want to kick yourself for fucking this up. 

"Work been good?" Joel asks with his eyes on the clock. 

"Yeah, just busy," you offer feeling awkward. "Got a meeting with the city next month about the sanctuary. Looks like we got the funding."

"That's good."

"Mhmm."

You could cry over how awful this interaction is. How stilted and awkward the two of you look and sound standing across from one another in the kitchen. 

Grateful doesn't even touch on how you feel when Sarah suddenly skids into the kitchen. She screeches, throwing her arms around your waist tightly until you give a small "oof". You curl, hugging her gently. 

"How have you grown so much?" You ask in awe, shocked that not even two months could make such a difference. You could swear she looks taller. 

"I got a My Little Pony for Christmas," she announces, not caring to answer your question. "You wanna see?"

"Sure."

She goes to her seat at the table and pulls out the pink and purple pony before announcing: "I named it after you."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I missed you."

Sarah is smiling up at you in a way that brings tears to your eyes. You blink them back, cupping her cheek with your hand.

“I missed you too, bug.”

After everything this is one of your biggest regrets. Your isolation from everyone included Sarah, the sweetest child to walk the planet.

You had forgotten Joel was still there, watching you both until you hear him clear his throat. 

"I'll be back around midnight. Emergency numbers are by the phone, like usual. Pizza should be here pretty soon."

"Okay."

Sarah clamours up on the chair, sliding into the booster seat with your help. You smile down at her, chatting away to her pony. In your peripherals you watch Joel pull on his jacket and grab the bouquet of flowers from the counter. 

In another life maybe those would have been for you. 

In another life maybe it could have worked between you two. 

You hear him walk towards you along with the crinkling of the cellophane wrapped flowers. He comes to stand next to your seated form. He's so close you could tilt your head and rest it on his hip.

You smile as you see his hands come into view, watching as he passes one of the roses to Sarah by the stem, making sure to strip it of it thorns first. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, babygirl," he says with a kiss to the top of her head. Sarah takes the flower gleefully, pressing the lush petals to her nose and inhaling. 

"Okay daddy, you can leave now," Sarah tells him calmly. You laugh at her bluntness and catch Joel's dimpled smile in response. 

"Guess now that your best friend is here again, poor ol' dad's just second fiddle," Joel says with an exaggerated frown as he motions to you. 

"It's not your fault," you assure him as you smooth Sarah's hair with your hands. "I'm just that wonderful. Right, Sarah?"

"Right."

She really is just the best kid. 

Joel doesn't reply to that, but then again you never expected him to. The tension from before seems to be ebbing, it's almost like things are slowly going back to how they were before.

This is good.  This means there’s hope.

Joel watches you stand and move across the kitchen. You go to pull down some plates for the pizza from the cupboard. When you turn to go back to the table you're surprised to see Joel is still standing there looking at you. 

You feel your heart picking up its tempo. But then his phone buzzes on his hip and you know without asking that it’s Tess messaging him. Immediately you feel your heart retreat from your gaze and you force a smile.

"Have fun tonight."

Joel nods, presses one more kiss to Sarah's head and then he's gone out the door. You hear his truck rumbling away and only then do you breathe normally again. 

The pizza arrives shortly after and you inform Sarah that if she's really good and eats the salad that came with it, she can eat dessert in front of the TV later on. She is very amenable to this suggestion. 

"Daddy is seeing Miss Tess," Sarah tells you as she takes a bite of her cheesy slice. “She was here before.”

He's already brought her into this home?

Of course she has you moron. She's seen Daniel and Tess at school how many times? How many play dates?

"Daniel's mommy," Sarah says in a hushed voice, frowning when you don’t reply. You feel your stomach bottoming out at this. Your eyes widen before you school your features, staring at the oblivious girl opposite you. 

"Does Miss Tess come here a lot?"

Sarah ignores your question and instead starts babbling about something happening with Daniel's hamster, Zippy. You hold back the desire to keep peppering her with questions. 

However she continues to drop little hints throughout your evening together. The next one comes when you're in the kitchen washing up from dinner. Sarah sits at the counter with her paper and crayons making some elaborate hearts on the page. A Valentine for her dad, she tells you later. 

"That's the cup Miss Tess used," Sarah says pointing to the oversized green mug you're soaping. Joel's favorite mug. 

It takes everything in you not to smash the thing into pieces. Two months ago he had his mouth between your legs, now he's bringing some new woman here?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"What's Miss Tess like?" You ask, trying to sound casual as you wash the dishes in the sink. 

"Tall."

That's all you get from her for now. She continues coloring and you continue doing the dishes in silence. You catch your reflection in the dark window in front of you and are shocked at how devastated you look. 

It was just a night. A night of pleasure. You didn't make lifelong promises to one another. You admitted mutual attraction and need, that's all. And even if it's not all from your side of things, Joel has clearly moved on. And you can’t be mad at him for doing so.

When you finish up, Sarah is putting the last finishing touches to her card before gripping it in her tiny hand and holding it out to you.

"You have to give this to Daddy when he gets home. It's my Valentine for him."

You look at the little pink envelope covered in Snoopy stickers and smile. You take it from her, seeing her uneven printing on the front. Love. That's all it says. You smile fondly at her. You idly wonder if she’s too young for a ‘romantic love is an illusion’ conversation.

"I think you should give it to him when you wake up tomorrow," you offer.

"No." Sarah looks uncharacteristically agitated. "It can't be tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't Valentine's Day."

You give a sharp nod, making your face solemn to convey you understand the gravity of delivering this missive. 

"I see."

"Promise me you'll give the card to my Daddy tonight?"

"I will."

"Promise," she says holding up a tiny pinky in your direction. "A real promise."

You hook your pinky around her tiny digit and shake, smiling. "I promise, Sarah." 

"Good." 

The next 'Miss Tess' tidbit comes as you're putting Sarah to bed. She's watching you rifle through the books on her shelf. 

"Miss Tess has light hair. Lighter than yours."

"Hmm," you say bringing a few book over to her bed. "Wind and the Willows again or Charlotte's Web?"

You decide that you don't want to hear anything more about 'Miss Tess'. In fact you don't want to hear anything more about Joel or whomever he decides to date ever again. 

You have to close your heart to him or this will be the last time you'll see Sarah. The last time you'll read to her, last time you'll laugh with her. 

It'll be the last time you can join Maria and Tommy at theirs for a party that the whole family is invited to.

It'll be the last time you can venture upstairs to Maria's without fear that Joel might decide to drop by.

Because you have no right to be upset. You don't. You kissed him, let him make you come and then ignored him for almost two months. What was he supposed to do? Know the crazy inner workings of your fucked up brain? Know the sordid story of your horrible life? 

No. You need to be happy for him and for Sarah. If this Tess woman is as great as everyone makes it seem, then you have to be happy for Joel and Sarah. 

You have to. 

"I missed you reading," Sarah tells you when you bring the blanket up to her chin, tucking her in an hour or so later. "I like it when you read best 'cuz you do the voices right."

You try not to feel unnecessarily smug about that. 

You tuck her in, feeling distracted as you press a quick kiss to her forehead. She can sense that the nighttime routine is coming to a close because her tiny hand reaches out to grab your sweater. 

"Say 'goodnight, bug'" she prompts you.

"Goodnight bug," you say pressing another peck to her forehead. "Get some sleep." 

Sarah nods, closing her eyes and rolling on her side. You can hear her murmur something to toad and you smile as you close her bedroom door. 

You walk down the creaking hallway, ready to walk down and watch TV. But as you pass Joel's room and you see his door is ajar you pause. 

Joel's room. You remember how in awe you had been the first time you saw it. How surprised by every detail. Now in the dark of night it seems alluring and seductive. It beckons you to explore, to touch. 

You draw over to it, your hand moving independent of your brain to pull the door completely open before stepping inside and closing the door tightly behind you. 

The first time you’d seen his room there had been lotion on beside table, a horse picture above the bed. Now the lotion is gone, the side of his table cleaned. The horse picture is still there though, calling out for all weary travelers. 

You step in further, your eyes going over the books on his shelves, the fan that hasn’t been used since the summer. You trace your hand along the exercise bike in the far corner, a towel draped over it. Does he use it?

You sit on the edge of his bed, pulling open the drawer next to it. You think you might see something interesting inside. Your curiosity is peaked. It opens with ease and it takes you a full moment to realize what you’re looking at.

It’s the guitar strap and pick you got him for Christmas.

This sight causes you to leap to a standing position. Joel kept the gift? He must have picked it up when you weren’t looking, dazed on the sofa. But he kept it? Still? Why is it hidden away?

You don’t want to think about that for too long. Maybe he’s hidden it because Tess will ask him where he got it. He doesn’t want her to see it. He wants to pretend you never existed to him.

You stop. You’re hurting your own feelings.

You see one of Joel's t-shirts hanging over the dresser. He'd obviously tried on a few before deciding on the linen one for tonight. 

He made the right choice, you acknowledge. He'd looked amazing tonight. Memories of how good he'd looked are making your lower abdomen flip pleasurably. A depraved need washes over you.

You feel as if you're watching yourself from outside your body as you lock Joel's door before striding back across the room.

"Stop," you murmur to yourself even as you lower yourself onto his recently made bed. It's surprisingly soft.

You settle back against the pillow, your hands on either side of you like you're in a plush coffin. 

He's touched himself in this bed, you just know it. You can picture his work wide hands stroking himself to completion. A man like Joel feels deeply, works hard and has needs.  

Fuck you want to be the one to sate those needs and you never will be. But you don't let your thoughts linger there. You want to enjoy this stolen moment. 

You turn your head on the pillow, your eyes sliding shut as you inhale. It smells masculine, deep and musky mingling with the scent of his shampoo and laundry detergent. 

It smells like Joel. 

And that is what makes it impossible to stop. Because when you close your eyes you can almost imagine he's there with you. You can imagine that he came back the next day after the party and everything was fine. You can imagine that he’d backed you into your place and fucked you there on the floor, the both of you too desperate for each other to make it to the bed.

Your fingers are fumbling with the button and zipper of your jeans before your hand is thrust under your panties in a fervor. 

Flashes of memory and fantasy intersect, bursting in searing snapshots into your mind. Joel's hands on either side of your face as he kisses you. His mouth on your neck as he fucks you in this very bed. His brows knitted together as you suck his cock. His tongue skating over your nipples. The feel of his soft mouth on your twitching core.

This is so fucked up. You know this, you're so painfully aware of how fucked up this is. And yet you can't stop yourself from thrusting into your hand, from murmuring his name over and over. You whimper his name like an oath, a desperate, needful prayer as you feel his phantom touch.  

All at once the memory of Joel's head between your thighs assaults you and you see stars. 

Your head is thrown back as you come, your moans muffled by the hand you've sealed over your mouth. When your hips finally stutter to a stop the shame hits you like a slap in the face. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You readjust your jeans, throwing yourself from the bed with a yelp. You rush to the bathroom, washing your trembling hands. You can't even look at your reflection right now because you know what you'll see. Cheeks stained with humiliation, shame clear in your features and overwhelming regret in your eyes. 

You go downstairs and force yourself to watch bad TV. You have it on quietly and even though you try to focus on what’s happening and why some beautiful woman would be married to some loud-mouthed lout who works as a delivery driver, you can’t.

All you can think about is the passing of time. How late it’s getting. You keep tilting your head to look at the clock hanging by the kitchen. Then your watch because you’re certain the kitchen clock must be moving slowly.

Nope.

Eventually it’s past midnight. Joel had said he would be home at midnight, hadn’t he? You start to feel irritated. You’re here babysitting Joel’s kid and he’s definitely off fucking Tess. You’re certain of it. 

Your thoughts don’t linger there long because an ungodly scream has sounded from upstairs. A heart-wrenching scream with your name in it. You nearly trip over your own feet running up the stairs, your heart in your chest. The door to Sarah’s room is yanked open so viciously you’re convinced you pulled it off its hinges.

“Sarah!”

She’s sitting up in bed shuddering and holding toad. She bursts into tears when you rush in, her arms reaching for you as you approached. You throw yourself onto the bed, pulling her tiny frame into your lap. She throws her arms around your neck, her sobs loud in your ear, her face wet with her tears as you rock her back and forth.

“Shh,” you soothe gently. “I’m here, honey. I’m here. You’re safe.”

You rock her like this for several moments, listening as her sobs become hiccups and then finally just ragged breaths as she pulls back from you, looking up at you from your lap.

“Wanna tell me what happened, bug?”

“Someone hurt my Daddy,” Sarah says and you can see the tears starting again. “He was in the forest and someone took him. They hurt him.”

You hold her tightly to you again, making soothing sounds and rubbing her back. “No one’s gonna hurt your Daddy, I promise.”

Time passes and eventually Sarah is calmed enough to climb back into bed. She looks to you with her big eyes, terrified in the dark as you bring the blanket to her chin.

“Will you sing me a song?" Sarah begs. "A nice one."

You give a good natured groan, thinking back to songs you know all the lyrics to. You remember the song Bill sang to Frank that one evening, the sweetness of Bill's reedy voice. You can't remember all the words but you know the tune. You start of at what you remember, tucking Sarah in for the second time that night. 

Caught in my fears

Blinking back the tears

I can't say you hurt me

When you never let me near

And I never drew one response from you

All the while you fell all over girls you never knee

"What does that mean?" Sarah interrupts. 

"I think it means that the girl singing is in love with a man but he doesn't know she exists," you say trying to piece the song together. "So she's really sad about it."

Sarah nods, her eyes starting to shutter. "Keep going."

You laugh, trying to remember your place. You hum a few bars, trying to recall where you left off. 

Cause I've done everything I know

To try and change your mind

And I think I'm gonna miss you

For a long long time

You really go for it, your voice clear and strong. As you sing your fingers trail over Sarah's forehead, lulling her to sleep. 

Cause I've done everything I know

To try and change your mind

And I think I'm gonna love you

For a long long time

Your voice drops to a whisper as you sing the final verse. Sarah's eyes are almost all the way closed. 

"Goodnight Sar-" 

"Do you love me?" 

You're not expecting the way her tiny voice reaches you in the semi darkness. It takes your breath away, tears starting in the corner of your eyes. You swallow the knot that has formed there. 

You look down at her little face and feel the answer is so obvious. Has been for months now. 

"Yeah," you answer truthfully. "I do."

Sarah smiles widely, gripping your hand in hers with her eyes still shut. "Will you sing the last part one more time?"

Oh she’s a good little manipulator.

"One more time," you insist with a faux grumble. "Then sleep!"

She nods and you sing a very quick very quiet rendition of the last verse before pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"Deals a deal, bug."

"I like that song," Sarah nods sleepily before craning her neck to look at her bedroom door. "Do you like it, daddy?"

Your breath catches as you jerk your head over your shoulder to see Joel leaning in the doorway of Sarah's room. His arms are crossed over his broad chest. You can't see his eyes, but you know he's looking at you. 

"I didn't know you were there," you say feeling your cheeks reddening. 

"Didn't want to interrupt," Joel says softly.

"Sarah had a nightmare," you say standing quickly. You feel like you should offer something else but you stand awkwardly instead before you sail past him, heading downstairs. You hope he can't see the pink high in your cheekbones. 

Joel enters the kitchen minutes later, his dark gaze focused on you. 

You want to ask him how the date went. Obviously they've been seeing each other longer than just tonight if Sarah is anything to go by. How long exactly was it after he kissed you that he fell in with Tess? Tommy didn't say. Have they slept together yet? Has he said the same things to Tess as he said to you as he worked his mouth between her legs?

Doesn't matter. Not your business.

"She was really good tonight," you tell him as you look for your jacket, locating it in the kitchen. Your eyes fall on the pink envelope from earlier.

"Before I forget, this is for you," you say sliding the thick Valentine card to him across the kitchen counter. "Sarah was adamant I give it to you before I left." 

Joel looks distracted. He would normally be opening the card to see what his daughter created. But instead he just stares at it on the counter. 

When you stop to look at him you notice he actually looks quite pissed off. This confuses you. He reaches into his back pocket to grab his tan leather wallet.

"Are you ok-"

"You can't tell her stuff like that," Joel interrupts gruffly pulling the bills from his wallet. 

"What do you mean?"

"That you love her." Joel's eyes finally reach yours when he says it. "She can't have women saying they love her, comin' in and out of her life-"

"Who says that's what I'm doing?" you ask offended. 

"It was bad enough with her mother," Joel is ignoring you, talking over you and looking upset. 

"I'm not her mother," you defend. You would never do what that woman had done to Sarah. 

"Damn right you're not."

His eyes are blazing and for a moment you think this might be the cruellest thing Joel Miller has ever said to you. 

He tosses the wrinkled bills at you on the table and you hold back the overwhelming urge to slap him. Instead you clench your jaw, levelling a scorching glare at him.  

Joel leans over the counter, his hands braced there. He can't look at you. 

You stare him down furiously for a moment longer nonetheless before pulling on your jacket and heading out the door, leaving the money beside the Valentine on the counter.  

It's not until you're at home in bed that you allow yourself to cry. 

[deadbydangit]

I read your one imagine about sleeping next to the killer, can I request something similar with the ghostface, the knight, and the blight. ☆

I absolutely can. I have so many good ideas for this one that I just thought of. Please enjoy.

Sleeping with them: Ghostface, Knight, Blight

Ghostface

Oh, you think sleeping next to Danny is going to be fun?

Well you're wrong.

First off, this guy is a blanket hog.

It won't matter if you put extra blankets on yourself, he's stealing them.

And he won't even know he's doing it.

He just pulls them on himself.

Then he wakes up cover and sweat and complains about it.

You can mention the issue to him, but he knows there's not much he could do about it.

And it isn't really his fault.

So make sure to hold those blankets tight.

Second, he is super squirmy.

There are two types of people when sleeping: those who sleep peacefully and of those who kick everything around and won't say still.

Danny is definitely the second.

He's a wild sleeper, so don't be surprised when you end up being kicked in the middle of the night.

He doesn't mean to do it. It really isn't his fault.

If you mention it to him in the morning he will apologize.

He also talks in his sleep.

And it's really funny.

It makes absolutely no sense.

"It's Taco day, so I want sprinkles."

"Frogs don't have wings, they aren't people."

Sometimes he'll even be talking about you in his sleep.

Mumbling about how much he loves you.

Like he's having a conversation with someone and bragging about you.

It's really sweet. But if you mention it to him the next morning he won't remember a thing.

Despite all this, he's very cuddly.

Before you both fall asleep, he wants to be the big spoon and hold on to you.

It's his way of protecting you from anything that might harm you.

Even if there's no harm around, he just wants to hold you.

Knight

Sleeping next to Tarhos isn't as bad as sleeping next to Danny.

He isn't squirmy and doesn't kick.

He's very still and silent when he sleeps.

Occasionally, he moves slightly.

But, other than that he stays pretty still.

Overall he's a pretty good sleeping partner.

Well, except, he won't take the helmet off!

Yeah, he sleeps with it on.

And, no, he won't take it off no matter how many times you ask him to.

He claims it's 'a crucial part of his identity'.

It's also very uncomfortable to sleep near him.

Forget about hugging or spooning.

You're going to hit your head and it isn't going to feel good.

That helmet is made of metal.

Do you have any idea how hard that is?

Imagine you're sleeping and you suddenly move, then you hit your head on metal.

That's certainly one way to ruin a good night's sleep.

Oh, and he always wants to hold on to you.

He claims it's his way of protecting you.

'The realm is very dangerous, so let me protect you my love.'

You can tell him how uncomfortable it is, but he won't listen to you.

Again, it's a crucial part of his identity.

And even if you do learn to sleep through hitting your head on metal, that helmet is covered in rust and dried blood.

Now imagine waking up with all that gross dirt, grime, and blood all over you.

All over the bed sheets, all over your clothes, and worst of all, all over your face.

He's used to sleeping and dirty conditions, so it doesn't really phase him.

If you beg enough, he will clean his helmet off at the very least.

On the plus side, he's an early riser so he's usually not there when you wake up.

You have the whole bed to yourself to sleep in.

And he's very careful about not waking you up, he even tucks you in after he's gotten out of bed.

He claims he doesn't do that. But seeing how neat and tidy the tuck is, it's pretty obvious he tucks you back in.

He'll also whisper sweet words to you right before you fall asleep.

All about how amazing you are and how special you are to him.

About how he'll protect you from the world if he has to.

Blight

Arguably, one of the best sleeping partners.

You'd figure his goo would get on everything and anything.

But that isn't the case.

Actually he doesn't need to sleep.

Or, he can't anymore. He isn't really sure which.

You might feel bad for him. But he really doesn't mind not being able to sleep.

Otherwise, he knows he'll be plagued by nightmares.

But that won't stop him from making sure you have a good night's sleep.

Just because he isn't entirely human anymore and doesn't need to sleep, doesn't mean you don't have to.

His bedtime ritual for you is very luxurious and loving.

Being a scientist, he knows a lot about the human body.

He knows your sleep cycle and knows how to best get you asleep.

Routine is key. And he knows that.

Even if you aren't tired, he'll try to get you to relax around the same time every night.

He'll make sure you have plenty of blankets and are warm enough.

He can't really kiss you with his mouth as it is. So he'll make do with petting your hair very softly and soothingly.

Just that is almost enough to put anyone to sleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll first make you some tea to help you relax.

Believe me, he is an expert on making tea.

And, somehow, he never ends up getting goo in it.

If that doesn't work, he'll read you a book.

When he reads his voice is so soft and relaxing you can't help but fall asleep to it.

If none of that works, he will cuddle with you just for a little while.

He doesn't want to get you all gooey and gross.

And he does so out of love.

He just wants to make sure you feel comfortable and loved the whole night.

#dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd ghostface #dbd blight #dbd knight

[reidsaurora]

okay but consider

Spencer post prison needing his routine to be even more specific because he had such a rigid schedule while inside, like he always had lunch at the same time everyday, so you and spencer are like working a case and lunch starts to approach but everyone is kinda in the throws of research and spencer is clearly not doing so well

so you pull spencer aside and are like "spence whats wrong?" and he explains hes uncomfy cuz of wanting lunch at a specific time, so you talk to emily and the two of you take your lunch together, and it becomes kind of like a little routine for the two of you to take your lunches together

wrote a lil blurb about this because you, my love, deserved a lil blurb. hope ur having a lovely day!! 🫶🏻🧡

pov: Spencer is having a hard time adjusting to life outside of prison. luckily, he has you to make it better ♡

warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader, angst to fluff sorta, lots of talk about spencer's time in prison, descriptions of food, lots of crying, 0.9K words, not beta read!

Spencer looked up from his Tupperware container, curious eyes meeting yours. "What are you doing?" he asked, brows pinched together in confusion.

"Well," you started, sitting down across from him, "I wanted to have lunch with you. If that's okay."

He nodded slowly, setting his fork down and giving you his full attention. "Why?"

You let out a soft laugh as you began unpacking your lunchbag. "You're always sitting alone," you shrugged. "Figured I'd change that."

A tinge flooded the brunette man's cheeks. He looked away from you—though, he wasn't really looking directly at you in the first place—and focused his attention back on the Tupperware, poking around at his taco salad. He sent an understanding nod your way, as if unsure what to say next. You knew from experience that Spencer wasn't the most conversational person, having struggled with social cues, so you decided it was for the better to eat in peaceful silence.

The room remained comfortably quiet, a small space of availability staying open just in case Spencer had felt exceptionally talkative that day. You caught him occasionally glancing at you, like he'd wanted to close the small space you'd left open, but stayed silent anyway, wanting to finish his salad as quickly as humanly possible.

Finally, you decided to bite the bullet, so to speak, and crack the silence first. "Spencer, you know you can talk to us, right?"

He nodded, poking around at the ground beef that was left at the bottom of his bowl.

"I know things have probably been hard since…" your voice trailed off. Since what? Since prison? Since being locked in a cage for months? Since being tortured for days on end, probably?

"You can say the word, Y/N. It's not like it'll kill us to talk about," he grumbled, nearly under his breath. His eyes remained on the Tupperware, his cheeks heated as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"Spencer, I know it probably felt like you were alone in there," you started, your heart heavy as you thought about those agonizingly long three months he was stuck in that prison, "but I can assure you that you're not alone now. We're here for you. I'm here for you, Spence."

Finally, for what felt like the first time since he'd been locked up, his honey tinted eyes met yours, tears forming in them but not quite at the point of slipping down his cheeks. "I know, it's just… it's stupid."

"What's stupid?" you questioned, slightly hurt that he assumed you'd find whatever was bugging him ridiculous.

"The reason I keep leaving to eat lunch by myself. You guys are going to think it's stupid."

You weren't sure why you did it. You knew that Spencer wasn't a huge fan of physical touch, and it wasn't your place to do it anyway. Still, your hand moved across the table, your palm wrapping around Spencer's wrist, your delicate fingers seeming small in comparison to his giant hand. "Tell me. Please. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what's wrong, Spencer."

He looked down again, where your skin touched his, but didn't make any efforts to move. "I used to eat lunch every day at the same time by myself. Every day, at 12:07 p.m., I would sit alone at this table in the corner of the lunchroom. I made sure I was facing the door and facing everyone that came in, because I was getting so tired of having to watch my back every second that I was awake."

You placed your fork down before moving to sit down on Spencer's side of the picnic-style table, wrapping your arm around him. You knew it was ridiculous, putting your hands on him so many times in such a short span of time, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. Your palm splayed across his spine, rubbing soft circles as he fell against your frame. Tears fell down his cheeks and onto your shirt, broken breaths and sobs escaping his lips.

"You're never gonna go back to that place. Not if I'm around to stop it," you reassured him, holding him ever so close. "You will never have to live like that ever again. I promise."

His chest rose and fell in quick movements as his tears picked up. "I'm so scared, Y/N. I'm scared of going back. I'm scared of never being my old self again. I'm just… terrified."

You held him like that until his tears had slowed, and when they picked back up a second time, you just kept on holding him. Every tear he hadn't cried in prison had surely made its way to the surface, but neither of you cared. Even when you knew it was much past when you should've gone back to work. Even when five minutes turned into ten, and when ten minutes turned into twenty, and so on.

Spencer's dark eyes met yours, his cheeks still damp with the leftover tears that hadn't quite dried yet. "Thank you."

You gave him a gentle smile, the back of your hand reaching up to wipe your own cheeks where you'd cried for him. "Always, Spence."

"Do you think…" he started to ask, gaze breaking yet again.

Your brows furrowed as you wondered what he wanted to ask. Your stomach flipped at all the possibilities. "Yeah?"

"Do you think we could start doing this every day?" he finally asked. "Just until I start to feel safe again."

You didn't even have to consider your answer. "I think that would be excellent."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

#imagine #imagines #blurb #blurbs #one shot #one shots #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid blurbs #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid one shots #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds blurb #criminal minds blurbs #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds one shots #fanfic #fanfiction #angst to fluff #answered! #georgia 🌈 #reidsaurora

[malewgtfstories]

Chub…

** Warning Contains Racism ** (the racist gets what he deserves 😉😉😉) The beginning of a new school year was meant to be a time to catch up with your friends and learn new things. But to many others, it was a time to show off their rocking hot new body. Many people slaved away in the gym just for the aesthetics of it. That was the case for Greg. He had been working on his abs all summer and was excited to show them off.

Greg was known to be an entitled racist white boy who hated all the Hispanics at his school. He hated them with a burning passion always bullying one when he had the opportunity. He hated how hairy they were. They hated their curly hair, their loudness, their protruding stuffed bellies, he hated how lazy they were, and how dumb they were. He hated it all. The only thing he liked about them was their conservative views. As the school year started, he knew he had to face the people he hated the most. His worst nightmare had just begun. He stepped onto the school bus with the hope that one of the people on the bus would be white. To his dismay, he saw only shades of brown in the bus. He hated every second he was on the bus. As the bus hit the brakes opened to doors to let students out Greg was the first to leave. He pushed all the Hispanic kids out of his way. Little did he know he had pushed the wrong kid. A new kid who seemed to appear out of nowhere. His name was Juan, and he was notorious for being lazy, dumb, hairy, and most importantly fat. Every quality Greg hated.

Greg buried to his first class where he sat with his best friend Jack the best QB of their high school. He shared the same opinions as Greg did. Greg took up most of their first period venting about how much he hated the "fat illegal slobs" that attended his school. Jack agreed. Through all their anger they didn't realize that Juan was in their class ears-doping their conversation. He had a little plan for Greg and knew what to do.

Later that day,

With lunch approaching Greg was starving and wanted something to eat. Juan knew this and set his plan into action. Greg was stuck with the hard question of choosing between a PB&J or a pizza. Greg chose a pizza and found his seat at an empty table. Juan waddled his way to him. Greg noticed him and rolled his eyes as he felt the table groan when Juan sat down. Juan stared deep into Greg's eyes. This pissed off Greg and told him "What do you want you fat dirty Mexican pig?" "Nothing much", replied to Juan. "If that's it get lost. I don't want you to steal my food". "Well, I came to offer you something. It's really good I promise". "Ughhhhh. Ok, but you better leave after" a long pause "Well? what is it?" "Well if you insist." Juan pulls out a big juicy taco. When Greg laid his eyes on the taco, he knew something was off. He felt his stomach churn. A sudden wave of fear came over him. He rejected the offer. But Juan told him "If you want me to leave you have to eat it. Every single bite". With fear and his lip trembling, he took the first bite. It was an explosion of taste. His taste buds were in haven. He loved the mixture of salty and spicy. He took another bite and then it was all gone. He was hypnotized by the taste. He thirsted for more. As soon as he began to eat it, it quickly finished. He looked at Juan with hunger in his eyes and asked for more. Juan quickly complied and gave him taco after taco. With each one hitting his taste buds his skin began to itch. His straight blond hair quickly began to darken, and they twirled and began to curl. His once smooth face began to grow dark hairs. Leaving looking years older. He was aware of his transformation, but he couldn't stop eating the tacos. Next up was his stomach which slowly inflated with pounds of fat. He never had love handles but they appeared as a result of his metamorphosis. His legs plumed up with lard. Leaving his thighs to constantly rub off against each other. His gut grew bigger and bigger leaving him to not be able to his feet much less his dick. Talking about his dick it was now cushioned with a layer of fat making it seem smaller than it was, but on the plus side, his little member seemed to grow thicker than it was a few minutes ago. The last portion of his rebirth was his brain it lost all its knowledge leaving him with an IQ score of 65. This transformation also morphed the world around him. The previous life of Greg was erased from existence. He now had parents who were bigger than he was and constantly wanted him to grow into a real Mexican. Greg was no more the one who took his place was Edgard. The funny part is Edgard didn't know Greg existed either, but deep down in the back of his consciousness existed a fragment of Greg stuck in the body of his worst nightmare. Juan looked into the now dumbed-down Edgard and told him with a chuckle "You made fun of me and called me a fat dirty Mexican pig. Well, you should look at the mirror porker". Edgard didn't care what he said after all the only thing he cared about was to fill the void in his stomach. Juan than vanished waiting to get his next victim. Leaving Edgard to live his life off gorging himself.

#race tf #permanent tf #fat gain tf #male tf #male weight gain stories #thin to chunky #bearification

[obae-me]

Could you maybe do hc's for Diavolo where Mc is just super casual with him

Like they don't give two shits about his status. They treat him like he's just some guy they play beer pong with every Saturday

Demon Prince can't have a normal day in Devildom because, well, he's a prince? No problem lets just go to the human world

Absolutely I can. Casual Diavolo is one of my favorite types of Diavolo. Please enjoy some of these headcanons.

Homies in Hell

It surprised the both of them when MC didn't seem immediately intimidated by Diavolo. Sure they were confused when they were first summoned down, but despite being in a strange place, being surrounded by strange people who said they were demons, and despite announcing himself as the future King of Demons, the human always looked at Diavolo differently.

Of course, he intended to keep up frequent contact with them to ensure they were settling in properly, and he was always pleased to find that they would typically strike up a conversation with him. It was fascinating! Exciting! They sent 'wyd'! He has no idea what that means! Even when he tries to talk to Lucifer sometimes, it typically leads back to business or responsibility.

They even come over to the castle sometimes as an escape. They come over and tell Diavolo all about the chaos in the House of Lamentation and he always laughs and thinks about how fun it would be to participate. Although he is glad that MC finds it comforting to come to the castle to get some peace. He encourages them to come whenever they wish.

Lucifer and Barbatos had a hard time with the both of them at first. One should not treat royalty so casually! And yet, if it's what the prince wanted...and if it would help MC acclimate... they could let it slide as long as it was kept under wraps. And as long as they both didn't lose sight of their duties. No one expected it would come this far though... The Butler almost had a heart attack the first time MC almost kicked the doors to the castle open and just shouted "Dia! What's up?"

Now, the lines of royalty are completely blurred for MC. Sure, they know he's a prince, but he doesn't feel that way to them. Diavolo is a very good friend.

Diavolo wants to convert the entire Castle into a magical maze for a game of hide and seek? Awesome! Diavolo wants to play a simple card game? They head over with the deck! Barbatos has been making nothing but fancy healthy meals lately? MC brings over some junk food. Diavolo wants to learn more about human culture? MC pulls out some classic memes. You better believe he's going to be talking about it like it's a new hip thing and drive everyone else insane. Maybe they partially do it on purpose.

They enjoy spending time with him this way though. It's very clear to them that no one has ever really treated him this way and it's a shame, because he's actually really fun to be around. He always has a blast with whatever they do and it makes MC really enjoy the simpler things in life.

Sometimes Diavolo will give Barbatos an order that forces him to leave the castle just so MC can come over and do things together. The first night he did this was so MC could come over with groceries and they both spent time in the kitchen celebrating Diavolo's first Taco Tuesday. He was elated.

Sometimes after very long periods of stressful Princely things, MC will fake an emergency and say they need to rush to the human world with Diavolo. They got away clean the first few times, but now everyone knows they're just going up there to have fun. A lot of times they both can be found in a mall eating pretzels and looking to buy things they don't need. (Even though Diavolo could quite literally buy anything he wanted, he finds the concept of a budget quite fun!)

Once, for Diavolo's birthday, they went up to the human world and went to a drive-thu movie and then went bowling right after. They ordered pizza and popcorn and nachos. He got to wear sweatpants for the first time and he had a blast. Although both Lucifer and Barbatos made MC and Diavolo eat strict healthy meals for the next week, but it was worth it. Now Dia tries to wear sweats when he works on paperwork late at night.

Everyone close to MC and Diavolo actually says that MC is the Devil on Diavolo's shoulder since they encourage him to do anything that he wants rather than what he's required to do. It's almost poetic.

Diavolo always gives MC a high five or a fist-bump anytime they see each other now and no one knows how to feel about this.

They've created a sort of bucket-list to get done. It lists a bunch of casual things that Diavolo has always wanted to do. Some of which require: camping in a tent and not a cabin, playing a full game of monopoly, taking cheesy pictures in one of those mall kiosks, playing dodgeball, making a sandcastle, trying one of those restaurant challenges where you either eat something gigantic or super spicy and getting a memento t-shirt, playing Just-Dance, going on a roadtrip with no location in particular, and more. The list is ever ongoing.

MC gifted Diavolo one of those little basketball hoops to keep on the wastebasket in his office for his work and he adores it.

Sometimes they'll just facetime (or whatever the demon equivalent is) while they're doing whatever. Just to talk.

MC's behavior honestly eventually rubs off on everyone which is Diavolo's secret dream. Now if he shows up at the House unannounced, the brothers will wave and just chat casually instead of freaking out that the prince is here. Even Lucifer and Barbatos aren't fully free from the casualness! Something about MC and Diavolo just makes everyone a little less tense. Sometimes Lucifer will wear a hoodie around the house and Barbatos will actually order take-out every so often.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo

[the-anxious-stargazer]

Like Lucky Strike || Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Y/N asks out Sam on a date, both of them worry about how the night would go. When the night came and the date went on, they felt their worries settle down knowing that they were both comfortable of each other.

Words: 4.4k

Note: i'm happy y'all enjoyed the first part and honestly i never thought of making a part 2 so here you go! i'm sorry if it took too long i was trying so hard to find the motivation to write the date part during a breakup HUHU enjoy more sam fluff bc this woman deserves the fucking world :) also yes quinn never went bad we are healthy so she is not going to avenge her bitchass brother.

[Masterlist] [Part 1]

・ ‥…━━━━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━━━━…‥ ・

"Hey Matty, where's a great place to bring a girl you have been crushing on for quite some time now? " Y/N asks her good friend, who paused his typing,

"Wait, you finally asked Sam out?" Matt states his shock.

Y/N had been rambling to her good friend and boss, Matt, about how things had been going between her and Sam. If he were being honest, his friend's been stupidly in love with Sam since the day she shared their conversation one night at the diner. For someone who likes to observe the world around her, Matt was sure she was the most oblivious of how she felt towards a specific woman that works in her favorite diner.

It had been the day after Y/N had walked Sam to her apartment after work and asked her to dinner, and for the past few hours since she got home, she's been overthinking about it. She ends up planning what she'd be wearing for the date and settled wearing something more casual than what she always wore whenever she stopped by the diner. If someone were watching her choosing between the amount of clothes she had picked they'd think that she has lost her mind. Though Y/N had decided on her clothes, the next on her list was the place they'd have dinner at. Like what Sam said last night, she was aiming for a place they can only afford than going to an expensive restaurant and pouring her entire savings into some dish that she's not even sure she'd like. So that's why she seeks someone else's opinion,

"Yes, I did, and I'm panicking because I have no place in mind to take her to!" The woman nervously answers before she sat down on the chair by his table and tapped her feet. It was something she's been doing for the past few hours of contemplating things.

"Well, don't take her anywhere expensive." Her friend emphasizes as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

"I'm aware, dude. I can't spend my entire bank account for a plate of steak that I can do 10x better at home." Y/N jokes when she can't even cook much.

"Then why not cook her something?" Matt playfully suggests, and he sees the cringe on her face before replying, "And attempt to burn my place down again? Gladly! " 

"C'mon, it can't be that bad Y/N." He tries to convince her.

Y/N suddenly recalls the time she tried to make spaghetti and ended up burning the sauce and cooking her noodles mushy. The chaos she omitted that Sunday afternoon caused her fire alarm to go off, and earned numerous knocks on her door after her attempt. Let's just say she never bothered to try cooking anything fresh other than instant noodles and canned food. Even her mother laughed so hard at her story when she was telling it on the phone.

"Did you forget that I almost burned my place down because of tomato sauce, Matthew?" The sarcasm that drips in her voice makes Matt laugh,

"Oh, what about that taco truck you said you've been wanting to try for the past two weeks?" Matt remembers her words. The woman's eyes light up from his suggestion.

Y/N still had been eyeing that taco truck that was a few walks away from her apartment but had always been preoccupied to try.

"Oh my gosh, Matt. You're a fucking genius! " Y/N exclaims before standing up.

"Then I'll let you get off early later." Matt chuckles at his friend before he watches her walk out of his room and go to the lobby to continue her brainstorming. Though she does stop by the door before saying, "Thank you, Matty. You're the best!"

Meanwhile, in the Bailey-Carpenter apartment, Sam had reluctantly asked her young sister what outfit she could wear, and it ended up Mindy, Anika, and Quinn tagging along. Tara was beyond ecstatic to help her big sister with something like this. After almost a year of living in New York, Sam's finally letting herself be open in the dating scene. The other three were beyond surprised to hear that the Samantha Carpenter was going on a date with someone they had never heard of before, but Tara filled them with what she knew. Quinn and Tara rummage into Sam's closet for some clothes qualified enough for her to wear tonight. 

So far, the progress is going very slow.

"Wait so, she's a regular at the diner you work at and defended you from these mean girls that been harassing you? Damn, now I want to meet the woman." Mindy babbles as she sat on Sam's bed and rests one of her arms in-between her girlfriend's thighs.

"And she always walks her home after her shifts. I sometimes catch up to them and that ass of hers is looking mighty fine in those pantsuits." Quinn adds while studying one of Sam's crop top.

"That's so sweet. Sam, she already sounds like a keeper." Anika smiles at the older Carpenter who has been embarrassed the entire time.

"Oh my god you guys, we're not even anything yet." Sam covers her face.

"Not even anything? Sam, she's literally the first person you opened up to with none of our connections. And she waits for you to finish your shift sometimes and walks you home!" Tara points out facts as she turns around to face her sister,

"And— And, she's the first person to ever make you genuinely laugh! I have never heard you laugh since you know who!" Her sister continues.

"Tell me, has she ever done that to anyone else at the diner?" The younger Carpenter continues, and the three wait for her response as she froze.

The coffee breaks she always offered to everyone turned out mostly to be her's except for the times she was off. Y/N does always wait for her to finish her shift but only when she's on the morning shift. On the night shifts, she's more than happy to accompany her before 10 pm to head home and rest. Sam always texted her whenever she got home before going to sleep and it always surprised her when she got a reply so early to bid her to have a good rest. Y/N only offered the walks to her specifically that even Cate and Dolly tease her about it while Dale proudly smiles at his favorite regular. Sam concludes that her sister was right. When she took too long to respond Tara snaps her fingers and scoffs in amusement.

"See? There is something!" The younger Carpenter finishes before she goes back to help Quinn.

"Okay, as much as I want to help Tara prove that she's right, why do you not have anything spicy here Sam? Not even a red dress or a cute skirt?" Quinn interjects and she gives up.

"I mean, tank tops, skinny jeans, and boots are Sam's thing. I don't see a problem with that." Mindy joins in with a shoulder shrug.

"I agree with her on that one." Her girlfriend beams and Mindy kisses her cheek for it.

Sam smiles at their antics before she finally helps find the perfect fit for her. She felt content to be surrounded by people who support her in this new chapter in her life. Part of her still felt incredibly nervous to go out with Y/N who felt the same way as she changed to the outfit she had planned which was a green plaid jacket, white shirt, black jeans, and walking shoes. It felt weird to dress this comfortably just to see Sam. She's at least checked herself in the mirror more times she can count than usual and has contemplated too many times if she should drop the jacket or not. But the weather today seems to tell her that it might rain one way or the other. Y/N just had to be sure that she was prepared for the worst.

When she finally stopped herself from stressing about her fit, she grabbed her stuff and left her apartment to walk her way to Sam's apartment. Even if it was around five blocks away walking felt better than getting a taxi and getting stuck in traffic at this hour. Y/N put on her earphones as she strutted through the New York crowd and minded her business. The people around her moved in routine as some bumped into each other and yelled at the person to watch their way while some people talked loudly on the phone. She was beyond immune to how the people here are the way they are. So as Y/N arrives at the Bailey-Carpenter apartment building, she catches a glimpse of the sisters waiting for her by the stairs and Tara is the first one to notice her arrival. Her eyes couldn't leave Sam's body as she stood next to her sister who sat on the stairs and tapped her shoes nervously. She wore a cropped tank top and blue skinny jeans to match her usual boots that she wore to work. Y/N always liked her wearing tank tops because she gets to see those arms for free.

"Y/N!" Tara jumped from her seat as she ran to hug the woman nearing them. Y/N smiles at the younger Carpenter and hugs her with one hand.

Sam looks up to see both of them and she freezes at the sight of her. Those doe eyes couldn't leave Y/N's figure as she initiated small talk with Tara. Everything else blurred out as she watched the woman smile as she spoke and her voice was inaudible. She thought she looked amazing even in casual wear. It was too weird to see her outside of her work clothes since she's gotten so used to Y/N visiting her right after work. She didn't even realize that they had approached her. Sam couldn't snap out of her trance until someone snapped their fingers in front of her. Tara giggled at her sister's unresponsiveness when Y/N greeted her and dropped her hand that was in front of her sister's face.

"Huh?" Sam uttered as she blinked a few times.

"You good, Sam?" Y/N asks as she tries to hide away her amusement,

"Yeah, y-you look good." She sheepishly replies and smiles back at her before she hears her compliment her back, "I could say the same for you,"

"You ready?" The woman saw her nod before both of them turned to notice Tara grinning at them.

"You better bring her back home before 10 or we will hunt you down, Y/L/N." The younger Carpenter tries to intimidate her with an emphasis on "we" and it makes Y/N laugh at her attempt. The interaction caused Sam to push Y/N's back for them to leave.

"10 o' clock, Y/L/N! Don't forget it! "

"Yes, ma'am!" She turns around and shouts back with a salute.

"Tara get back inside! I'll see you later." Tara shakes her head while giggling before following her order.

Unconsciously, Y/N holds her hand while Sam's free hand covers her face in embarrassment. As much as she loved her sister dearly, Tara was surely doing all she could to humiliate her in front of Y/N. But deep down, she's more than happy that they bonded well. Tara is kind of easy to befriend so Y/N had no worries getting along with the young Carpenter. The woman in question smiles at her as she covers her blushed face and finally takes the lead to walk them to their destination.

"I am so sorry about her." Sam tries to apologize.

"It's nothing, I like seeing you all embarrassed. It's cute." Y/N let her know.

Sam tries to act cool from her words and removes her hand from her face before looking at her to ask, "Stop it! Where are you taking us?"

"Oh, there's this taco truck I've always passed whenever I come back from the diner and have always wanted to try it out. Might as well try there." Y/N informs as they walk past a crowd.

They were a crowd of teenagers and laughing loudly at their shenanigans. Y/N felt Sam stiffen from the crowd so she carefully let go of her hand and slipped it on her back to settle her hand on her waist. This moved their bodies closer and the move made Sam blush again. Part of her wish was that Y/N wouldn't notice it but she was already too late as it made her smirk. Her cautious mind calmed down after.

"Do you want me to move away?" The woman softly questions to her ear. She could've sworn that her voice shifted from sweet to silky.

Situations like this used to make Sam freeze after Woodsboro, but Y/N has unconsciously helped her get through it. She felt incredibly safe with her around. Safety was something she had never felt since moving to New York before all the rumors started.

"N-No, this is fine." Sam stuttered, cursing at herself for doing so.

Y/N just simply smiles before they continue walking close to each other. The warm feeling on her chest continued that she couldn't help herself from smiling. Sam's nervousness was long gone and she felt more comfortable in Y/N's arms. They were able to pass by the diner and wave at the staff and regular customers inside. Behind Y/N's back, Dale had just won the bet he had with both servers who thought she wouldn't have the guts to ask Sam or the other way around. Cate whined in defeat before handing the cook his ten bucks. The smug smile on Dale's face only annoyed Dolly who also gave her ten bucks and continued cleaning the table she had abandoned after seeing the two.

When Y/N notices the familiar deli shop on the other side of the road she smiles knowing that they are near. Her hands loosen from Sam's hips and beams at her,

"What kind of taco do you like?" The woman randomly asks and Sam hums to think about her answer while they wait,

"My dad used to make these fish tacos when we were young and when we had a trip to Mexico I had this amazing one but forgot it," Sam replies.

"What about you?" She voices out her curiosity.

"I've had Al Pastor once and it was good. The one that's been showing up in my timeline lately is Birria tacos and I swear I want to try them so bad." Y/N happily answers.

Sam only giggles at her ramble before they finally arrive at the place and it was kind of crowded. There was quite the line for both the order and waiting and so far the people who were already eating seemed to be having a good time while enjoying the food. The place had slowly upgraded since Y/N had laid eyes on it. At first, it was just a taco truck by an empty parking space, but now there were tables and decorations around their area with lights complimenting the homey vibe of the area. The owner must have gotten a lot of attention to make this place look lively. Sam liked how cozy and warm the area looked as she observed more.

"So, what are we ordering?" Y/N wonders as she looks her way.

She sees the older Carpenter stare at the sign and concentrate on which order should she pick. The way her eyebrows furrowed as she debated between fish and beef made Y/N's heart flutter. Those doe eyes that used to be so mysterious are now mesmerizing to her. She thought she was so adorable that she didn't even realize that she'd been staring for too long.

"I mean, we only have two options. We can order both and just share if you'd like?" Sam concludes her thought process before she turns to see the woman's reaction only to be smiling at her mindlessly.

"Y/N? " She calls for her when she doesn't answer her.

"Hmm? Yeah, that sounds good to me." Y/N blurts out when she pulls away from her thoughts and it's Sam's turn to be amused by her getting distracted.

"What's on your mind?" Sam tries to tease her and it only makes the woman blush.

"I-I, uhm—"

"I'm messing with you, dummy." The teasing she caused had only made Y/N blush even harder as she scratched the back of her head and laughed along with her.

Just the sight of Y/N like this will be stuck at the back of Sam's head for who knows how long.

While waiting in line, the two continued conversing about their day. Y/N excluded the part where she was panicking over where she'd take them to dinner and stressing over her outfit. She found it cute how all the girls came together to help Sam with her outfit even when she only asked for Tara. Her sister has mentioned the three before whenever she hangs out at the diner when she has no classes in the afternoon. So far, Mindy is her favorite from the stories. As they ordered and finished up, it was time to wait in line. Gladly the service was fast since around four people were working inside a food truck to cook and prepare while two worked to clean the tables. When their orders were placed and the food served later, both enjoyed their dinner with laughs and stories. Y/N liked both fish and beef but Sam preferred the fish because it brought some nostalgia for her. The woman didn't mind offering the majority of the fish tacos to her and just smiled when Sam appreciated her for offering them.

"You know… I thought you wouldn't return them." Y/N began while trying to add some salsa verde to her half-eaten taco. The Carpenter girl figured that they were talking about how they felt for each other as she wiped off whatever was on her face after finishing her last taco.

"Well, I've never really had anyone openly be friendly with me and stick around even when I don't show much... interest." Sam answers.

"Stick around huh?" The woman teases with a grin before biting in.

"I mean, who's the one who kept asking for coffee breaks?" Sam watches her stifle her laugh while trying to finish chewing her food and swallow it down before replying to her,

"In my defense, I offer coffee breaks to everyone." Y/N tries to say.

"And yet you still offered it after I declined twice. You were a tad bit persistent on that." All she could do was shake her head.

"What can I say, I liked the whole mystery behind you. Intrigued me a lot and I'm glad I was patient enough to make it this far." Y/N admits, leaning back in her seat to cross her arms with a small smile.

Her eyes follow Sam's every move as she leans close to her and hovers her mouth next to her ear to say, "You have something on your face."

The shortness of the gap between them causes Y/N to sit still while the Carpenter girl wipes away the smudge of salsa verde near the corner of her lips with tissue. Her cheeks light up as they stay close and she stares at Sam's lips which seem to be more irresistible than before. The urge to fight herself back from kissing her was her greatest battle right now because she was almost losing. Sam found amusement in her enthralled state, knowing that this was the same woman who almost swerved smoothly through her guarded walls for the past month. All that natural confidence she carried with ease was nowhere to be found now. Y/N felt her hold her chin before forcing her to move her attention to her face she had a smirk. Her blush only worsened.

"Eyes up here, Cariño." Y/N almost melted on the floor when she heard her speak again.

"T-Thank you." She was able to bring herself to voice her gratitude.

Sam only chuckled at her when she replied before checking her phone to see the time. The woman before her stood up with a sigh and motioned her to follow, "Come on, my sister's going to potentially hunt you down if we don't get back at 10."

"R-Right!" Y/N stutters as she stands up.

The Carpenter girl only smiled at her as she went to cling her right arm around her left arm. Both of them walked by the sidewalk with comfortable silence between them and Sam leaned her head to her shoulder, trusting Y/N fully. She felt a sense of accomplishment for coming this far. All that patience was worth the effort now that she was here with Sam trusting her safety and well-being with her that she could never let herself be like this around anyone else but her family. That warm feeling came back to her chest as they continued to walk and Y/N only smiled at the feel of it.

"Did you enjoy tonight?" Y/N gently asks,

"It was… better than expected. Thank you for tonight." Sam sends her gratitude to her while trying to look up to see her grinning in content.

"You're always welcome, Sam. You deserve it."

Both continued in silence as they walked back to the Carpenter's place. While walking, Y/N felt something land on her face, and she slightly jumped from it. Her head turned left and right to try and figure out what it was before she felt something land again. The woman then looked up to the sky that had the stars hidden, and before they knew it the rain started pouring down at them. Y/N's instinct was to run and look for some cover, but most of them were being occupied by other people. A thought popped into her mind, and she suddenly remembered that she wore her plaid jacket for this exact reason. She then started stripping out of the said jacket and covered Sam's head to keep her dryer.

"You're going to get wet!" Sam scolds her only to be brushed off,

"It's okay, my place is near we can get dry there!" Y/N yells before grabbing her hand to lead them to her apartment.

Both of them ran through the New York rain as it continued to pour harder and they laughed like children playing in the rain. Tara's joking threats were now forgotten and Sam would probably give her a call later to let her know. Y/N could feel her clothes getting wetter in the process but as promised, the buildings that she was all too familiar with walking past whenever she came home came nearer. Sam noted that she lived on a nicer street than she and her sister do, though only a little. When they reached the apartment building, Y/N quickly looked for her keys in the pockets of her jeans and fished them out when she found them. She then unlocks the building door and lets Sam in first before she follows to close the door behind.

"Oh my god, Y/N. You're all soaked up." Sam points out the obvious as she takes off the plaid jacket off her head.

All she heard from her was a laugh before she shakes her head to brush it off.

"At least you're not." The woman beams at her and she thinks she looks like a little kid smiling at her with her hair flat and clothes drenched.

Y/N noted that Lenard, the keeper, would probably kill her for causing a mess on the floor with a puddle slightly forming from the water dripping from them. She'll apologize to him by the morning before she comes to work, probably with a box of his favorite Marlboro to make up to him.

"C'mon, we might get sick if we don't get out of these," Y/N remarked as she started making her way to the elevator.

Luckily enough for them, the elevator was free for them and they both entered the box accompanied by squeaks from their shoes. Y/N pressed the button for her floor and leaned her weight to the railing at the back, Sam following her. The Carpenter girl takes a moment to stare at the woman beside her and notices how her skin glistens from the water and the lighting of the elevator. It was relatively bright, but not bright enough to be blinding. Numerous thoughts came to her mind as she burned her skin with her unwavering eyes that she felt them. Y/N turns to face her and breathed,

"What's on your mind, Sammy?" Something about the way her voice caused the hair on her arms to go up and made her throw all her restraints away.

And hearing that nickname was her breaking point.

"Fuck it," Sam uttered before she grabs Y/N's face and presses her lips onto hers.

Y/N's plaid jacket that she had held has been dropped on the floor and both couldn't be bothered by it. The force Sam had used to press her hard to the wall caught Y/N off guard and the kiss only made her feel like there was a fireworks display in her stomach. She noted how soft her lips were and the desperation in her kiss as they turned their heads in sync. There was a hint of citrus on Sam's lips and she liked the taste of it that they felt irresistible. Hands slowly make their way to Sam's hips before Y/N flips their places with her now pinning the Carpenter girl, barely breaking the kiss.

If only she knew how her knees weakened when she took dominance.

When it seemed like it was taking forever and both women struggled to breathe, they pulled away from each other but not too far away to miss each other's warmth. Sam decided to be the first one to break the silence in the hair,

"I know I was the one who started, but I think… we're going too fast." She addressed as she caught her breath.

Y/N giggles as she looks down to avoid her stare and a shade of pink paints her cheeks, "Yeah, I agree and I don't mind if you want to take things slow."

Sam just smiles at her in content when she looks back to her doe eyes and makes her heart leap at the adoration in Y/N's eyes. She felt too fortunate to have someone as considerate and patient as her. Almost too good to be true. But she reassured herself that Y/N was nothing like Richie. And Sam hoped her heart won't be broken twice with betrayal.

"I'd like that."

・ ‥…━━━━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━━━━…‥ ・

THANK YOU FOR READING I'M SORRY IF THIS TOOK LONG <3

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter #sam carpenter fanfic #scream 5 #scream 6 #melissa barrera #nena's written work

[igglemouse]

Simón settled in the cushions of a cheap trailer home, staring down at a rug that had likely been planted on the floor so long that it now stuck to it thanks to the Oasis Springs heat. His thoughts churned of a past that he had so desperately clung to because she was part of that past. He was sure that seeing her again would give him some release, lure him into a contentment of what used to be but he found himself only thinking more about what could have been or maybe, what still can be.

He hoped that she would have changed. Made it easier for him. Slam the door in his face and shut him out, giving him the perfect excuse to move on, to let his memories remain memories instead of transforming into hopes.

Instead, she had done the opposite. She had welcomed him into her house and back into her life, without much hesitation at that. During their brief conversation he found that she had changed, he couldn't tell you exactly what had changed about her but it was enough to make her someone slightly different. She had put her trauma behind her...or maybe she had locked it up inside of her, either way, she was a stronger and better person now. That he could tell.

If only he had changed with her. In the end, he was the same guy in a new location. Just another lowly criminal doing a job he didn't want to do but one he needed to do.

He thought to get out, the trailer was cramped as it was and the heat, which seeped in despite AC, made staying inside uncomfortable. It was only slightly better outside there was at least fresh air and also a bright and energetic bark that put a smile on his face.

The rest of the trailer park might have been demotivating for others but for Simón it was exactly what he needed, it was change. Frida had told him that she would make her way to Simerica for that reason alone and he knew that if he were to find happiness it would only be due to change.

But only changing things that he could as he understood there would be no change to how he felt about Frida. He might have to win her heart all over again but he felt he was up to the task.

"Ziggy! What you been up to this morning, huh?" he calls out and gets a bark in reply along with the dog running up to him for more attention. He wasn't sure of the dogs breed but he was more than sure that it adored him and while he wasn't sure what the future held between him and Frida he had at least known that he had won the heart of this dog.

I feel like the more simoleons I make the more I need, or is it want? I'm not sure and perhaps the line is blurred. The recent surge of simoleons should make me feel content but then I think about how much I worked for what I have and how hard I worked and I begin to wonder if it is sustainable?

I could look for a job. Something a little more stable and certain? Maybe even look for a place seeking a line chef? It's an option, I suppose, but for now I'll focus on cooking for my own little stand. I make enough to pay rent but I do always want more.

My morning plan was more of the usual. A bit of cooking so that I can always keep my stand full, especially with waffles, but unfortunately I was going to need a new morning plan because the moment I turn on my waffle maker it pops, fizzes, and nearly explodes.

I sigh, calling a mechanic and pushing that plan to the side. Instead, tending my flower bushes since they are safe from exploding, at least I hope so.

I can't complain too much because I've found success in such a short time here, so much so that rent is no longer a looming presence. I'm not only able to pay it but I have a little left over to to add a pinch of flair to my home. Some hanging plants, art, and even a new television add some character to my living space. I find that I do like the finer things in life!

The surest way to more simoleons will be more delicious foods and now is the perfect time to debut tacos! I admit to being a little nervous, after all, people will see me and my stand and expect greatness from my tacos but I'm not quite sure they'll be at that level quite yet. Not only that but Oasis Springs has a pretty large Selvadoradian population who will also have their own expectations and I just hope to live up to them.

Despite my anxiousness I make sure I put my all into the process. Handling each step with care and the end result, I think, is a batch of tacos I can be proud of.

I'm not sure why I doubted tacos, never doubt tacos! I thought when I started that there might be some chance that I'll be able to have one myself, I usually take a plate of something left over after selling but there was literally nothing left.

I pulled in over 700 simoleons as a result and it was done pretty easily, if I might brag? Maybe the finer things in life are not so far away after all.

Being a content creator with a few fans paid well, well enough to where he could book a room at one of the more pricier places in Oasis Springs on a whim.

He wasn't going to be here long. Oasis Springs wasn't a huge city but it was nice enough to stay and probably better to live in and he felt it would be a nice detour before his usual annual summer trip in Del Sol Valley.

What he would do while here he didn't know but he was sure he could find some content in this dry desert town...

Episode List - Next

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 4 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #frida varela #simon barrera #ziggy barrera #ray booker

[peaky-shelby]

New Romantics | Mbappé [4]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

« previous chapter

» chapter 5: everyday is like a battle

» Writer's note: every chapter will be separated in three parts (sort off). And every part will have each own song to listen to while reading. It's an attempt to get y'all in the emotion hehe. Enjoy reading xx

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113 @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless

I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations...

FRENCH BAR - NIGHT

“They are always using the same starting 11” she drew on the napkin, the paper getting slightly torn apart as she’d write on it. She had a made a sketch of what looked like a small field and drew 22 small circles on it, 11 on either side, representing each team. Then over the circles she’d write the names of the players. “That makes it easy to know how the game will play out.”

She was in the middle, sitting in between Ektike, Ramos, Burnet, Neymar, Hakimi and Kylian. Everyone was looking at her sketches, especially Ektike who was sitting next to her. Kylian was sometimes glancing at it but he was trying to look like he didn’t care much about what she had to say. “They are weak at defending their set pieces-“ she made an arrow from on circle to another “which allows you guys to move freely on the field-“

“But they foul a lot. And they foul hard.” Jumped in Neymar who was sitting on her other side. He pointed at one of the circles “He’s ruthless.”

“So, use that in your favor. They have a habit of fouling on dangerous areas.” She explained. “That alone creates a lot of chances for you.”

“You expect us to stay there and let ourselves get fouled then?” asked Kylian, leaning forward on the table. He was testing her. Hakimi was observing, expecting another round of comebacks and insults to begin.

“I expect you to be smart. If they want to be reckless and stupid and foul you right outside of the box then that’s on them” she smiled “it’s what I did to Verratti today. He could have chosen to pull back, pass the ball over to his teammate but he wanted to go against me so instead his chose to kick the ball on his right leg- he didn’t calculate his injury. Reckless and stupid.”

Kylian didn’t answer but he kept his eyes on her as the rest of the boys continued to listen to her pointers. She turned the napkin the other way, writing down all the weaknesses she had supposedly journal through the season about ANGERS and their approach. Most of the boys seemed to humor her, even agree with her. That’s when he realized two things. First was that she and her boss hadn’t analyze only his career down to the tiniest of detail but she was like a hard disk. She knew the stats of all the players, ready to answer with numbers at any question. How had she memorized all that information without burning her brain cells? Second thing was that the girl had written and sketched out the strategy for an entire match on a napkin. A freaking napkin that someone would come and throw away. It didn’t surprise him anymore that JW had sent her in Paris instead of coming himself. He started seeing her true potential, the reason Marcos and Galtier trusted her as much as they did and he was even more intimidated by it. So, he kept his mouth shut and casually observed the way she was slowly adapting around the members of the team. Even Ektike had began taking a liking at her and Ramos was more friendly than the others.

“You don’t have a favorite player?” Neymar stretched his hand behind her on the booth, leaning closer. Kylian watched them getting closer from the corner of his eye. Taylor put her hand on his face to push him away from her personal space.

“Hoping to hear your name junior?” The boys laughed. Neymar admitted defeat and pulled back. “I don’t because my job is to not be biased.”

“JW taught you that?” Asked Burnet. She got nervous at the question and nodded quickly.

“Yes. That and everything I know.” She motioned at the napkin. Kylian caught her expression changing like she was anxious about something all of a sudden.

“Looks to me like you know a little more than him” Hakimi said while snatching some chips from the middle of the table. Kylian gave him the side eye, was he warming up to her as well? “I mean you’re basically a walking Wikipedia. Does he even pay you enough for what you do?”

She laughed to hide her anxiety. No one else was laughing though, so she choked it, coughing to regain her composure. “Um... he’s- I wouldn’t be half of what I am without him.” In a way it was true. JW was someone she used to be, someone that wasn’t fainting after the first half and that could get brutal if she wanted to. JW was who she would have been if she hadn’t been cursed by life.

“Does he even play ball the way you do?” Ramos asked. She scoffed again, looking away, avoiding making eye contact with any of them.

“He’s a great player. Better than me.” She answered, keeping her voice steady. She looked up, her eyes finding Ramos “He’s… he used to play professionally, like you. He was a great talent.” She smiled weakly “but life happened and unfortunately, he had to let go of the sport. So, he tried to find a different way to be involved.”

“A very annoying way.” Said Ektike, drinking his beer. They started laughing again, complaining about the articles that JW had written about then in the past. Kylian didn’t, which his own friend, Hakimi, thought was very weird of him. When everyone else was occupied paying the bills or trying to at least because Ramos wasn’t gonna let Taylor pay for her drinks, Hakimi leaned closer to Kylian who was focused on his beer bottle. He kept scratching on the label, taking the sticker out.

“You know, You’re the one that invited her.” He told him, low enough so only he would hear. Kylian raised his eyes, he glanced at Hakimi and then at the girl who was getting up, getting ready to leave. He never answered to his friend’s comment. He got up as well, wearing his jacket, he neared Taylor, his hand touching the small of her back. She flinched at the contact, turning to face him and he pulled his hand away quickly, instantly regretting touching her. She examined him, suspiciously. He slipped his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat.

“You need a ride?” he asked but his tone was cold despite the offer like he wanted her to refuse.

“Ramos already offered” she answered. A sudden relief washed over him but at the same time… regret?

“Actually-“ Ramos was looking at the GPS on his phone, tracking the way to her house “Ky’s house is on the way to yours. I’d have to go out of my way.” He explained “maybe its best.”

Kylian looked down at her, accepting his fate. She seemed to accept it as well, nodding. After everyone said their goodbyes, Kylian and her made their way to his car. She felt weird just by sitting on the passenger seat. It was an expensive car, just like the bar she had spent the last couple of hours in. She wasn’t used to that, she never made big money from football, never had this sort of life and it began to dawn on her how her life was changing. Hanging around millionaires and basically celebrities. More than 10 people had come up to their table tonight, asking for autographs and pictures, especially from Kylian. The same Kylian that was now driving her to her apartment and who had deliberately turned the music on the radio so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Every time she thought that he was warming up to her, he would shut her out in seconds like he was blaming her for all his insecurities. She tried to find a subject, something that had nothing to do with football, maybe about Ann. But she stopped herself before she said anything, every time. She didn’t try to make a conversation, she didn’t want to have another fight with him, she was too tired for that and no matter their relationship he was still driving her home. That was decent of him. Although she did wish he’d let her learn more about that side of him, instead of always getting so mean and abrupt.

Kylian was thinking the same in a sort of way. He wanted to make conversation, he wanted to follow the plan that he had set with Verratti and get close to her but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t stop himself from getting defensive around her, especially when they were talking about football. So, silence settled around them, an uncomfortable kind of silence that not even the radio could make better.

He stopped at a red light. His eyes scanning the roads and the stores on the sidewalks. That’s when he saw a pet shop, he looked away quickly but the idea had already gotten in his head. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about it. He looked at her, she had no idea. She was staring out her window but she hadn’t seen it. He smiled, why was he smiling? He forced his features to get serious. He failed, after a few seconds he was smiling again. He looked at the store, biting is lip as the idea in his head was getting louder. When the light turned green, he started the engine and drove, stopping in front of the store. The sudden stop made her worried, she gave him a weary look while he was unbuckling his belt. He nodded at the store behind her, signaling her to look. She did but she glanced back at him just as quick, still confused.

“Promised I’d get you food, right?” he explained and got out of the car before she could stop him. She laughed at his actions in disbelief. She observed as he entered the store, taking out his wallet, picking out a bag with cat food and giving it to the cashier, then he paid and picked it up again. Coming out and back to her. He entered the car, sitting next to her and handed her the bag. All she could manage to do was stare at him, her mouth open in shock as she held the bag in her hands. She kept glancing back and forth at him and the cat food. Her scoffs turned to chuckles, the corners of his mouth turned up when he heard her laughing like that and he started the car again.

She drew her lower lip between her teeth, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.” She leaned back on her seat and he laughed. He glanced quickly at her, then back at the street. “Is this some sort of peace offering?”

He pouted his lips, his hand falling on the side as he thought about it. “Is it working?”

“I mean it would have gone terribly wrong if Luna wasn’t actually a cat-“ she tried but he started laughing before she even finished the sentence.

“Somehow I never feared that-“

She smacked him on the shoulder. The way she’d smack her friends. He pretended to be hurt by the contact, pulling away from her. Silence returned to the car after a few more giggles but this time it was sweeter, it was easy. She gazed at the streets of Paris, she was slowly accepting that this would eventually be her new home and the guy sitting next to her was her co-worker, someone she’d spent hours on end with.

“I don’t hate you; you know?” he said and she wished she had recorded it. At first, she thought that she heard wrong and she wanted him to say it again but then he said something that sounded more like him “I really don’t like your boss-“ She sneered, looking away. The irony was too much for her but she didn’t say anything. “But I think you’re smart… sometimes.”

She scrunched up her face, almost smiling “Good to know”

He stopped the car as they reached her apartment building.

“Thank you for the ride and you know… not driving me off a cliff” she said, earning another laugh from his.

“Thank you for not poising my drink, even though I’d deserve it.”

“Truth is I tried, Hakimi just stopped me multiple times.”

That cracked him up, he leaned his body forwards as his chest vibrated with laughter. She laughed along with him. They had to take a few deep breaths before they both managed to collect themselves. They would still let out small laughs, that were coming out as whispers, unable to hold back their smiles. He turned his head to face her, his eyes falling on her. He noticed she had a tiny mark of a scar just over her eyebrow. He noticed small things about the side of her face, her sharp cheekbones, her lines. He looked away when she gazed at him, he didn’t want her to know he had been staring. She reached for his shoulder, a move he didn’t expect but he looked at her tiny palm on his board shoulder before connecting his eyes with hers.

“Can I give you an advice without you lashing out at me?”

He thought about it but eventually nodded.

“Be more of yourself on the field. Don’t let insecurities take over you. You don’t have to prove you’re great, we already know you are. You just have to play.” She raised the bag he bought for her and smiled “thanks again” she said and exited the car.

But the secret is still my own. And my love for you is still unknown

TAYLOR'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

She ran upstairs to her apartment, the cat coming and curling at her feet the minute she got inside the small apartment. Taylor smiled down and knelt to pet her, rubbing he ear as she poured in her palm “Got you a surprise.” She sang and shook the bag in front of the little kitten. She put a handful of the food on the cat’s bowl and saved the rest on the cupboard under the sink. She had a shower, washed her face and drank her pills. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat on her bed, eating them while staring threateningly on her computer screen. She had opened a blank page, a blank page that she was supposed fill. She started multiple sentences after setting down her ball on the nightstand but she kept erasing them. Starting over again and again and again. She tried to use music to get her mind working, listening to Jennifer Owens. The song “Alone” played on the background, and she started tapping on the keyboard, hoping to get her inspiration flowing but it was worthless. It was like she couldn’t gather her thoughts on one paragraph. She didn’t even know where to begin. Was she supposed to write about today’s training game? Talk about her encounter with the young fan? She just stared on the blank box, waiting for an article to write it’s self. Time would pass and the page would remain empty. Why was she struggling so much? She huffed and laid her head back on the pillow, rubbing her eyes together. Luna crawled up in bed and up to her chest. Pouring in between her chest, taylor uncovered her eyes to see the cat and pouted.

“I think I’m in trouble.” She admitted but the only thing the cat did was lean closer and down to her neck, closing her eyes and sleeping on her skin. She petted the cat, her fingers diving in her black fur. She smiled. “Yeah, you don’t care, do you? Of course, you don’t. you’re just a cat.” She laughed, remembering her discourse with Kylian. She could feel her cheeks burning up, turning red but she waved him off her mind and got up to start writing while everyone else in Paris was asleep, the way lonely people do.

KYLIAN'S HOUSE / BEDROOM - NIGHT

Kylian on the other side of Paris, in a whole different apartment, wide and modern, he sat on the edge of his bed. The view from his window was beautiful, the city lights, the streets, the houses, everything seemed so small from where he was. Even the Eiffel Tower looked small in the distance. He kept replaying the last thing she told him on his head. Surprised at himself that he never responded to her. He laid backwards, closing his eyes. His phone buzzed and the screen lit up next to him on the mattress, showing his father’s face appearing on his screen. He picked it up.

“Oui papa?”

“Kylian, es-tu prêt pour demain?” [are you ready for tomorrow?]

Kylian closed his eyes, his expression saddening. What happened to asking people if they were ok when calling. “Oui.” He answered.

“Tu t'es suffisamment entraîné?” [did you train enough?]

He sighed, moving the phone away from his ear while his father went on and on about every single thing he did wrong on the last match and how he should avoid doing the same mistakes again. A part of him wanted to hang up. Maybe even throw the phone out of the window “Kylian? Kylian? Tu m'écoutes?” Kylian moved the phone back to his ear, his eyes remaining closed.

“Oui, papa. Mais je suis très fatigué. Nous parlerons demain, d'accord?... Oui, moi aussi, Pa. Bonne Nuit.” He threw the phone across the mattress the minute his father hanged up. The usual silence filled the room, the silence of lonely people. He covered his face with his hands, dragging them across his face and he fell asleep after a while his body giving in that silence and the soft mattress. He fell asleep with his clothes, with his worries on the back of his head, with her laugh echoing in his mind and his father’s pointers. You know, the way that lonely people do.

They both woke up at the same time by their alarms, in different bed and different rooms. Taylor had fallen asleep with her computer on her chest and when she woke up, she already had a headache. Kylian woke up in the same clothes, with a slight neck pain because he never moved to lay his head on the pillow. No matter the differences and the miles away from each other, each in their bedroom as they opened their eyes the same words slipped out of their lips “It’s game day.”

Taylor jumped out of her bed, the cat getting scared and tangled in the sheets, the computer almost falling on the ground before she dropped herself and reached her hand to stop it from crashing “oh my god” she mouthed to herself and put the computer back on the bed. She ran around her small apartment, bumping on the walls and stuff that she had left on the floor. It was a messy apartment to say the least. in the bathroom, washing her face and her teeth and then went to her kitchen to make coffee. While the coffee was brewing and her the bread was getting toasted, she grabbed her jeans, putting them on quickly and stumbling, falling on the ground. She got up fast, looking in her closet for a shirt. “What am I supposed to wear-“ her phone began ringing. That’s when she realized it was under the sheets so she started throwing them around, looking under them in panic until she found it under her pillow “Yes?” she answered. “Yes, coach I’m on my way.” She reassured him. From the corner of her eye, she caught her cat getting near the Kettle, smelling it. She tried to keep her composure until Galtier hanged up, her eyes opening wide and she ran to pull the cut away from the burning machine “You’re gonna burn your mustache!” she yelled. The cat meowed, asking for food. She leaned her forehead on the cat, shaking her head. “What’s the worst thing that can happen right?” Luna meowed again.

Kylian’s morning was calmer. He moved around his large apartment slowly, from his bathroom to his kitchen. Everything was on their rightful place; the floors were clean and the white color on the walls and the minimalist decorations were a huge contrast to Taylor’s space. He sat on the table, slowly sipping on his coffee. The slight domestic sounds were the only thing you could hear. He’d scroll on his phone, see a couple of tweets, like pictures on Instagram, answer a few messages. He was calm, used to these mornings. The calm before the storm he called them.

TRAINING CAMPUS / OFFICES – DAY

Taylor rushed up to Galtier’s office, holding all her folders and her papers in her arms and her laptop hanging on it’s bag from her shoulder. When she came in Galtier was on the phone so she looked around awkwardly, wondering if she could leave the folders on the chair or the table. She slowly tried to place them on his desk before the fell over but Galtier stood up, yelling on his phone, which scared her and she pulled back quickly, tripping and falling on the chair behind her, hugging the papers so they wouldn’t fall off her hands. She pretended like she actually meant to sit down, trying to look composed. Galtier threw his phone on the table when he hanged up, cursing in friends. He sat back down like nothing had just happened and looked at her. It took her a while before she got the memo and placed all the papers on his desk.

“These are from yesterday’s conference with ANGERS. I tried to gather everything they said in a couple of pages-“ she handed him two papers. He took them, scanning them back and forth but he wasn’t reading them. “They are certainly trying to provoke but I think it’s because they are scared. They have the same starting 11 as we expected-“

“Were you at the conference?” he asked, looking at her. Her shut in a tight line, she thought about his question, then started shaking her head slowly.

“No sir. I got the interviews online.”

“I want you to be on every conference from now on.”

She nodded “Yes sir.”

“What else do you have for me?”

“I made up my suggestion for the starting 11.” She slipped a paper towards him “An analysis of the approach I think we should follow-“

“You’re nervous.” She stopped, her eyes getting bigger. She didn’t respond. “I can promise you the boys are more nervous than you are. If you wanna do this job you have to learn to be brutal not just on paper but on the field as well. You can’t be looking like you’re going to throw up.”

She gulped, tried to calm her features and her expression to look calmer “I’m sorry sir. It’s just the nerves of the first match.”

“The players will get here at 5, the bus will leave at 6 so we can be on the stadium by 7. I expect you to have gotten your nerves under control until then.” He said and waved for her to get out of the office. She wanted to crawl and hide in a hole. Instead she jut founded the nearest corner and leaned her body against the wall, closing her eyes.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself, rubbing her eyes. She looked at her clock, realizing she only had a few hours to finish her pregame article. She went to the kitchen, opening the laptop and began writing. Pregame articles on her website were one of her favorite things to do, she’d write about where she saw the game going and making her predictions. She started writing a sentence about her low belief in Kylian, how she hoped that he would finally get back to the great player he was before the world cup but began feeling this regret in her chest. Like she was doing something wrong. And she didn’t feel that only for Kylian but for all the boys she had grown close to in the last couple of days. She read the whole article ones; she wasn’t happy with it. She wasn’t as harsh with the boys as she should have. Why had she let herself get as close to them? a few seconds later Neymar and Hakimi came in.

“Ola Princessa” called Neymar when he saw her and walked over to her, leaning on the table to peck her kiss in a teasing and flirtatious way. She pulled back quickly. He frowned at her reaction but didn’t say anything. He went to the fridge to get himself a water bottle. Hakimi sat next to her while she tried to keep her distance from him.

“What are you writing?” She closed the top of her computer before he got a glimpse of her writing. Hakimi raised his eyebrows. “All good?”

“Perfect.” She answered and got up, getting her computer with her. She headed for the exit of the kitchen when she bumped on Kylian who was walking in at the same moment. He reached for her arms to stop her before the crashed on each other.

“Careful where you going, can you?” She looked up at him. Ignored his comment and walked past him “Your boss won’t post his pregame predictions?” she stopped on her tracks, grasping on the computer “I was excited-“ Kylian got an apple from the basket taking a bite. “Stayed up to read it last night.”

She turned her body to face him, forcing a smile on her lips “he’d tell you it’s very unprofessional to stay up late before a match. I truly hope it doesn’t influence your playing.” His face fell, he kept the apple in between his teeth while glaring at her. She gave him another smile, turned back on her way. He finally bit on his apple swallowing the piece aggressively.

“What did you do?” Asked Hakimi, standing next to his friend.

“Nothing!” Kylian defended “I even bought her cat food” Hakimi’s eyebrows drew together and Kylian was quick to explain “she actually has a cat- it wasn’t for her. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

On the ride to the stadium Taylor was sitting alone at the front, while the boys were basically throwing a party on the back. She could feel Galtier’s eyes on her, studying her. It was making her skin itch. She still hadn’t posted that article. Before the game the team gathered on the locker room, Galtier was in the middle making on of his speeches and motivating the team. She was standing by the door, arms crossed on her chest as she listened. Kylian gazed at her while she wasn’t looking, he got so carried away at some point he stopped listening to Galtier, he was just watching her. When the motivational speech was over, she left them to get dressed.

“Do you have a spare bottle?” asked Hakimi, looking inside Kylian’s bag.

“Yeah-“

“Dude what is this?” Hakimi pulled out a napkin. It was the napkin Taylor had made her notes on. Kylian grabbed it and threw it back on his bad, picking out a water bottle for his friend and zipping the bag closed. Hakimi laughed and grinned at his friend but didn’t say anything.

Taylor sat on the benches watching at her team. Her team. God that sounded weird but they were in a way, weren’t they? The game started, figures running and chasing a ball or chasing each other. She wanted to run in there and help the team as well. When she saw Neymar shooting an awful pass at Burnet she yelled and jumped up from the benches.

“HEY! LOOK WHERE YOU ARE SHOOTING JUNIOR”.

Galtier looked at her outburst and she was expecting him to tell her to shut up but he smiled. That made her feel better. Ektike scored at the first 10 minutes, giving them a head start. She jumped in excitement and threw herself on Galtier. Galtier remained still and she pulled back quick, looking away. She was starting to get really into the game and she wanted to yell even more but she had to hold herself, reminding herself that the team still saw her as just a journalist. It was when she started giving pointers at Marquinhos that Messi gave her a confused look, watching her from the other side of the field. She realized she was getting out of control so she sat back down and put her hand over her mouth. Then she saw him. He was running with the ball in his feet, kicking it towards the opponents, he was going to score. She leaned forward in excitement, ready to jump and celebrate until he was tackled on his ankle, twisting it and tumbling on the grass right outside the penalty area. She got up rushing as close as she could get, her feet almost crossing the white line. She tried to see him but he was crowded by the rest of the team and the medics. Meanwhile Marquinhos was discussing with referee, arguing about whether it was a penalty or not. Half the stadium was yelling yes and the other half was yelling no. Her eyes were stuck on the man in yellow, waiting to see him signaling and whistling in favor of her team but-

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” She yelled when the penalty was denied “THAT WAS CLEARLY ON THE AREA”. She made a step forward and was pulled back immediately by Ramos. Who wrapped her arms around her and basically picked her up to keep her out of the field.

“You don’t wanna do that chipmunk-“ he warned. Marquinhos and Messi were still arguing with the referee. She could feel her blood boiling- she took a deep angry breath, her entire face pouting. She walked back at the bench, biting on nails. Kylian was escorted out of the field for his injury. She didn’t go up to talk to him but she saw him with his father. Like his dad was reprehending him and he had this look in his eyes, like he was giving up. She felt heart getting heavy on the sight. She looked away.

At some point during the final minutes another foul happened, this time at Neymar and close to her side of the field. But the opponents were never given a card, this time she didn’t hold herself, stepping forward over the line and yelling-

“FUCKING PAID IDIOT OF A REFEREE-“

The man in yellow turned to look at her confused and offended. “Excuse me?” he questioned.

“Two wild fouls and you do nothing about it-“

“Settle your tone young lady-“ oh no he didn’t-

Ramos was now next to Taylor, standing in between her and the referee “Taylor get back” he warned.

But taylor looked over his shoulder on her tip toes and pointed at the referees. Things got quickly out of hand “DON’T YOU FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY TONE YOU PIECE OF SHIT-“

Kylian saw the chaos unfolding before his eyes. He got up and along with the rest of the team got near her, swarming around her like ants. Half of them were trying to reason with the referee while the other half was pulling her back. But she would slap their hands off and kick her legs to be let go while she cursed and yelled. Kylian squeezed himself in between the other, trying to hold her arm because he knew what was coming and sure enough a moment later the referee raised a yellow card at her for her attitude and creating trouble in the middle of the game.

“WHY DON’T YOU TAKE THAT CARD AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR-“

“WILOCK ENOUGH!” Galtier yelled. She stopped immediately. The referee glared at her while walking backwards to get back on the middle of the field. Her eyes burned with anger while all the players returned to their position. When everyone was gone Kylian tried to get close, he reached for her arm, she slapped it off so he raised his hands up in surrender. He wanted to laugh. She looked like a little girl who had just been stolen her favorite doll, it took his mind off the chaos in his mind. The regret of getting injured and the anger. She turned her back on him and walked back on the benches sitting as far away from him as she could. She put her elbows on her legs, balanced her face on her hands and puffed.

He tilted his head, taking a note of how her cheeks and nose got red when she was angry and how messy her hair was now. Her lips shaped in a angry pout. She looked… cute.

This house no longer feels like home.

STADIUM LOCKER ROOMS - NIGHT

Despite the incident with the referee the team won and they all celebrated in the locker room. Hugging and cheering for each other. Everyone commented about Taylor’s outburst, laughing at her.

“Thought we had a second coach there for a while.” Messi said while she was pouring herself another glass of champagne. Taylor gazed up to his, her mouth slightly opening. She wanted to tell him the truth.

“Would you like that? A woman as a coach?”

Messi laughed. She immediately regretted her question but then “Greatest coach I had in life was my mother. Why not?” he smiled at her, poking her shoulder and walking away. She thought about what he said, getting some encouragement. She let down the champagne bottle and turned around. Marquinhos had been standing behind her, a smile on his face. She felt embarrassed. He game and sat next to her both leaning on the edge of the table behind them while the watched at the rest of team. They didn’t say anything for a while, she wasn’t sure if she should apologize or not.

“That was ballsy” he suddenly said and she looked up at him.

“You think I’m gonna be in trouble with Galtier?”

“No… I’ll talk to him.” She nodded, drank from her glass. “You’re already prepared to go to war for them. That’s good.”

“That or I just hate paid referees.” He laughed, his chest vibrating. “Possibly both.”

“They’re gonna warm up to you if you keep going like that.” He said “It’s a matter of time before they trust you. Even the cynics. Just remember your job is not just to go war for them or… push them to their limit in order for them to give you, their best. Galtier can do that…” His eyes fell on her and she looked in his “Sometimes you just gotta be there for them”

She studied around the room, counting her soldiers. There were two missing, the broken one and his loyal friend. Kylian and Hakimi.

STADIUM ROOF TOP – NIGHT

Kylian stood by the marble walls, leaning on them. He watched down at the now empty streets. A few hours ago, crowds were yelling for his team, now they were all gone. He looked at the sky and stars, while the chilling air hit his face. He never went downstairs with the rest of team to celebrate, he and Hakimi stayed on the rooftop and Hakimi had just left. So, he was alone. He liked it that way, he could run the game through on his mind, all the things he missed and did wrong. He glanced back when he heard the door opening, that’s when he saw her, dressed in a jersey and her jeans. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the sky “You’ll freeze to death.”

“Didn’t think you’d mind” she said, cuddling herself and rubbing her arms.

“you’re right I don’t.”

She ignored his comment “why don’t you come downstairs? We are gonna head back in a little while.”

“I’m fine up here.”

“You don’t wanna celebrate?” she went closer, standing next to him but he kept his eyes on the empty streets.

“Got nothing to celebrate.”

“Our team just won-“

“Our?” he asked, almost laughing “since when is it our team Ms. I don’t want to be biased-“

“That’s not fair. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t and frankly I don’t care. Half the reason I played shit today was you-“

“Excuse me?”

He motioned his hands, annoyed at her “you suggested we let ourselves get fouled in dangerous areas-“

“You have to be joking-“ she raised her voice.

“Why don’t you go tell your boss about that before he writes his next goddamn article-“

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. Her body warming up just by the frustration “I’m reaching out for you- I’m trying to help and every time I think I’m getting somewhere you turn into a dick-”

“You bring it out to me, what can I do.” He shot back, his face holding a dark expression. She let out a bitter breath and decided to turn her back on him, heading towards the door then she stopped. No, she thought, he wasn’t getting away with this.

“You know the issue with you is that you choose to be an asshole. You could be a good person but you choose to limit yourself to other people’s opinions time after time after time- what happened to you?” she cried but he didn’t turn to face her, despite her tone. He bit on the inside of his cheek while she spoke, holding his hands in tight fists to control his anger “You played against 11 men by yourself. You played against Argentina by yourself while the rest of your team was sipping tea and looking at the weather-“

“Don’t talk about my team like that-“ he growled

“I’ll talk about them any way I want because it is the truth.” She got closer “you were by yourself in that game and You scored three goals in one fucking game-“

“Two of which were penalties as your boss and everyone else loves to point out-“ he yelled back, turning to face her and waving his hand “so don’t you fucking give me that speech because even that wasn’t enough to satisfy him- or them” she stepped back while he got closer, not because she was scared but because she was worried, he’d stop talking If went close enough and she really wanted him to keep talking. “I could score 5 goals against Messi himself and it still wouldn’t be enough no matter what I do. It’s never perfect and it’s the same thing over and over again ever since I got back from Qatar- the same articles, the same headlines, the same struggle to live up their expectations.” It seemed he had gotten everything out of his chest. She could guess who ‘they’ was and she knew one of them was probably his own father, who had coached him for most of his life. She caught herself feeling sorry for him, she caught herself wanting to hug him but she chose to stand still. Say nothing. Do nothing and she studied his face while his facial expression was turning from angry to regretful. Regret for telling her all these things. She didn’t know how long they had been staring at each other but she started trembling, shaking from the cold.

He noticed it.

“Get inside before you turn to ice.” He said, trying to look and sound like he didn’t care at all and turned his back on her again. Leaning on the marbles just like he had before, grasping his hands together, expecting her to leave. He didn’t even sense her getting closer, not until she placed her hand on his. Her cold, small hand on his. His eyes shot up to find hers immediately. Her eyes reflecting his sorrow, he thought there was more in them, hidden emotions and words that she wouldn’t say but perhaps it was all in his mind.

“Humans they do that. They see someone better than them, someone they fear and they try to humanize him by setting him up with impossible expectations. They did it to gods and they do it each other. It’s not about you, it’s about them.” Her hand gripped tighter on his just for a few seconds and he could feel it trembling against his skin, searching for warmth, just as she went to pull away, he looked down and put his other hand above hers, rubbing it to give it some warmth. When he gazed up at her face again her rosy lips had began to lose their color. He pulled away and unzipped his jacket, putting over her and her exposed arms, she tried to shake it off but he didn’t care.

He fixed the collar, her eyes studying him while he made sure she was appropriately covered by the cold and meeting his when he lowered his head. And then… silence. Stillness. Warmth. His hands settled on her shoulders while they stared in each other’s eyes. An unfamiliar itch on her throat. An unfamiliar feeling on his chest or maybe all too familiar.

“Go inside” he whispered. “don’t want you freezing to death before the next game.” He paused, she thought he was going to say something nice “seeing you getting a yellow card was really satisfying- “

She cracked up, laughing and he forced a kind smile on his lips. “I knew you’d enjoy that.” She said and his hands fell from her shoulders on her arms, rubbing them for a few seconds before he moved away from her. “If you stay here, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be down in a second.” He reassured her and she nodded. She went to take off his jacket but he raised his hand “You’ll give it to me downstairs.” He said and she smiled but she didn’t move. He scoffed, shaking his head “you wanna say something what is it? Another advice?”

“it’s my best one yet. Works on everyone.” She reached for his arm, giving it a squish “go on vacation before you drive yourself insane.” He laughed and she gave him one last nod before she walked away, getting inside the warm building. He returned to his previous position admiring the stars but his mind kept wandering back to her. He heard the door opening and he thought it was her again, a smile appearing on his lips which quickly faded away when he saw Verratti standing in front of him.

“How’s it going? Is the plan working?”

He wasn’t sure what he meant at first, then he remembered. He closed his eyes and nodded quickly “yeah bro, I’m getting close.”

“for a while I thought you started taking a liking at her.”

He laughed “no of course not.” Right? "

-

HE KEPT THE FREAKING NAPKIN 😭😭😭😭😭 so after everyone basically said that they prefer longer chapters i decided to give you what you want and chapters will usually he as long as this one. Especially now that things yk are getting heated. Kylian trying to hide his feelings like PLSSS. Im having so much writing this story and i hope you're all still following and enjoying it as much as mee. Pls pls comment your thoughts and your feedback, it Is always hiiiighly appreciated. I love Youuuu💜💜💜 do you like me adding the songs btw? Or do you think it's too much?

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#kylian mbappe #mbappe imagines #mbappé #mbappe #mbappe x reader #mbappe x oc #neymar one shot #neymar imagines #neymar jr #neymar x reader #football writing #football imagine #football requests #lionel messi one shot #fan fiction #Spotify

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Safest with You - Ch. 4 (The First Date)

2.8K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din takes you out on a first date.

Warnings: First date fluff, lots of kissing and possibly too much description of 🫣, a little pet name usage (pretty bird, sweet girl, sweetheart), brief mention of parental illness and passing.

A/N: So... you may have noticed I increased the chapter count - I'm sorry! I really wanted to stretch out the longing these two have for each other and build up their neediness; so I split "The Courtship" into two parts and am using it to make the second part Din's POV (it's time for us to see what's going on in that pretty head of his!) But then the first part turned out to be 5K...and that's just two long so I split it into two as well. I'll post Ch. 5 shortly (it's written, just needs to be edited) - the point is to make them wait, not us 😂 Thank you as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

You emerge from the subway station to see Din waiting for you, ready to walk together to the taco place he picked.  The way his face lights up when he sees you makes you glad you took the extra time in choosing what to wear tonight.

Din looks devastatingly handsome; freshly showered after what was probably a long afternoon of sparring, his hair now fluffy again and looking so touchable, you have trouble keeping your hands to yourself.  His dress shirt is worn casually, untucked and with the top buttons unbuttoned, which somehow makes him look impossibly big; and when he offers you his hand, you happily take it, heart thumping at the way he slots his thick fingers through your much smaller ones.  He smiles down at you, hoping to convey how excited he is to finally be taking you out, telling you how beautiful you look and asking after the rest of your day.

The two of you chat effortlessly as you walk to the restaurant, and once you’re seated, the conversation switches to the business of the food.  You jokingly let Din know that food is very important to you and is weighted very heavily when determining the success of this date.  Din looks at you with a serious expression, “You don’t have to pretend you’re joking.” Without skipping a beat, you match his solemn expression and deadpan, “Good.”  Both of you crack at the same time, and you have to grab onto his muscular arm you’re both laughing so hard.  You swear you feel an actual jolt of electricity in your fingers.

After you’ve ordered, you ask Din a question that’s been on your mind ever since you found out where he worked: What sort of gym business brought him downtown on the day you met?  Din looks thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to decide how to start his answer, and when he speaks, you can tell that he’s about to share something heavier than the usual first date chatter.  You learn that about 5 years ago, Din’s father fell ill, and he decided to leave his personal security job to take care of his dad and help run the gym.  When his father passed, Din chose to stay and carry on his father’s legacy, taking over ownership and operation of the gym, which had been his pride and joy.  When Din pauses, you add gently, “After you, of course.”  Din smiles, somewhat sadly.  Something strikes you, “That wall you showed me, with all the news articles about you – your dad put that up?”

That seems to brighten Din a bit, and nodding, he continues, “The gym was a big part of my childhood and younger years, where I trained and fought.  Dad was a really involved parent, and he had a big hand in my training.  I have a lot of great memories of him and I together in the gym.  But it was more than just the boxing for him; he also opened the gym up to all my friends and gave us a place to go to stay out of trouble, giving everyone a safe place to go after school if they didn’t have one.  He ended up opening it up to all the community kids; if you were under 17 you could come in any time and train, use the equipment, or just hang out, do homework, whatever.  No membership fees, no questions asked.  He was a really good guy, my dad.”

Din looks wistful and reminiscent. 

“So stuff like that is a big part of why I decided to stay instead of going back to my old job.  Dad loved how the gym was important to the community and really believed in the neighbourhood taking care of each other, and I wanted to keep it and all the good it does going in his memory.  This way it’s still open to the neighbourhood kids to come and hang out and train, or just have somewhere to go and be safe; I don’t know if that would still be the case if someone else took over the gym and just cared about turning out winning fighters or something.”

“Awww, Din, you’re a good guy too.  Your dad would be so proud.”

You’re so grateful to Din for sharing something so personal and being openly vulnerable, you forget your original question, but Din hasn’t, “So I retired from my old job, but the people I used to work with, we were… we are still really close.  Like family.  I grew up with most of those guys; most of them are the same friends that used to hang out at the gym when we were kids.  They’ve always been there for me and Dad, even more after he got sick.  Great guys.  Stepped up when I needed to take time away from work to help Dad and understood when I told them I was leaving.  Every one of them has had my back a million times over.  So once in a while, they’ll ask me to come back in and help with something.”

You finally understand, “And the day we met, you were downtown on an assignment from your old work buddies.”  Din nods.  You think you’re coming to appreciate some things essential to Din’s character; in addition to being strong and protective, he’s also deeply loyal and compassionate.  “That’s nice of you.  It’s personal security work, you said?  Your friends probably feel safer with you around. I know I would.”

Din grins, “Good.  I’m glad you don’t find me scary.”

“Not in the least,” you give Din a fond look and he is gratified; Din is used to people being wary of him because of his appearance and size or even his reputation as a fighter among certain crowds, and he doesn’t think he could stand it if you ever felt in any way unsafe around him.

Carrying on the conversation, you share with Din that you’ve remained close to some childhood friends as well; some of your closest friends are actually from home.  You had all moved to the city at different times, but eventually reconnected and are now inseparable.  You’re grateful for your friends the same way Din seems to be for his.

“Are any of these friends the ones who are reading the same book as you?  Do they know you’re seeing me tonight?” Din is curious if he’s been worth mentioning to your friends, now that he understands how much they mean to you.

You let Din know that yes, in fact, some of those friends are one and the same and that everyone in the group chat knows about your date.    

“What do think you’re going to tell the group chat about tonight?”

“Well, so far, it’s a really good first date.  But night’s still early… and the food hasn’t come yet,” you grin, “They’ll get the full debrief tomorrow.  We have a standing brunch date every week.”

Din puts on a mock worried expression, “Got my work cut out for me, then.”

“Something tells me you’ll do just fine,” you place your hand on Din’s; he turns your hand over in his and brings it up to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss while looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

From there, the conversation continues to flow easily, with no lulls or awkward silences.

Over delicious food, Din learns that you’re a workaholic and always have been, but you love your job and your team, despite the somewhat long hours.  He asks you to tell him a little bit about your work and he finds that you’re whip smart, with an analytical mind; poking a bit of fun at yourself, you confess that you’re an overthinker and that work is probably a way to use this power for good instead of evil.  Long hours of working that brain overtime leaves you with not much free time, and your preference is to spend what little of it you have in a lowkey manner, with close friends and your dog.  You shyly admit you might be too obsessed with your dog, Al (short for Alfredo, like the pasta sauce), and when Din asks to see and then proceeds to enthusiastically coo at the 812 pictures of Al you show him on your phone, you think you might actually be making heart eyes at this teddy bear of a man.

The first time you’re both quiet is when Din walks you to the front of your building; after an evening of non-stop talking and laughing, this intimate moment of silence feels well earned and full of promise.  The evening has been more than lovely; you’ve learned so much about this handsome, kind man that you’ve fantasized about for the last week, and he has somehow surpassed anything you could have imagined.  Now you’re aching for him to touch you in ways beyond the gentle and respectful way he has throughout the date; you’re ready to feel the strength you felt radiating off of him in the coffeeshop pressed against your body.  Looking up at Din as you step in his space, you tip your face up to his while your hands find their place on his waist.  Following your cue, Din leans down and gently cradles your face with his hands, thumbs on either side of your cheeks, fingers softly stroking your neck and hair for a moment before bringing his lips to yours.

As Din’s mouth fits softly on yours, you close your eyes and return his kiss like it’s all you’ve been wanting to do for the last few hours, which if you’re being honest, it has been.  You map Din’s lips with your own, inhaling his breath and exhaling your own breaths of quiet contentment.  Din meets each brush of your lips with an equal tenderness, pressing into them with his own over and over.  Then, as if through some silent agreement, a sense of urgency overtakes the both of you and you each reach for the other at the same time to deepen the kiss.  Your hands work their way up Din’s chest until they lace around the back of his neck and you use them to pull yourself up into him; Din’s arm’s have enveloped you and he presses his hands on the small of your back, firmly urging you even closer.  On instinct, your mouth opens eagerly, and Din slips his tongue in, pushing against yours with hunger and purpose; you’re delicious and he can’t get enough of you.  Greedily craving even more, you wrap your arms around his neck, needing to get impossibly close to Din; nothing else exists in this moment for you except Din and the way his mouth moves against yours.  His facial hair is scratching your chin and the friction is starting to feel hot, but not unpleasant; you let out a low hum of pleasure that vibrates through to Din.  He groans and gently bites down on your lower lip, pulling lightly as you finally break apart.  When you open your eyes, you find that you’re both panting slightly, chests heaving in tandem as you try to catch your respective breaths.

“Holy shit, pretty bird. That was some first kiss.”

“Din…”, you whisper, your voice low, your desperate eyes meeting his.

You don’t even get to finish your thought before Din is on you again, kissing you with the same intensity and passion as the way the first kiss ended, but now with less urgency.  He wants to savour you, taste you, and show you through his kisses how much you’re affecting him.  During this second kiss, he doesn’t press you against him but instead lets his hands roam; his one hand trails up your neck and finds a home on the back of your head, threading through your hair and you lean into his hold.  His other hand strokes your back, fingers kneading as it travels from your shoulder blades and down to your lower back, almost dipping to your ass, but only getting close enough to graze the top with his fingers.  You might whine a little from the anticipation - oh how you want him to grab your ass.  You know he’s being respectful, but this kiss and the one before it has you burning with desire for this man; you can feel a wetness starting to pool between your legs, and you want, need Din to just handle you.  Your tongues chases his, trying to convey your neediness. More, more, more.

“Din…”, you try again, murmuring into his mouth when his nose gently bumps yours and his mouth gives yours a moment of reprieve.

“Mmmmhmm…?” Din presses his lips lightly on yours again, unable to be apart from them.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

Din’s mouth stills against yours before he pulls his face away slightly, “Oh.  Uhhhhh…I…no.”

In an instant, you feel a tightness in your chest from misreading the situation, and shrink away from Din, out of the warmth of his arms, “Oh.  Okay, it’s okay.  You don’t have to.”

Fuck.  Din blames his light headedness from kissing you for his harsh and misleading response; when he sees you trying hard to keep your face neutral, he’s desperate to correct and explain himself, “No, no, no, pretty girl.  I do, I do want to come up.  But, I also…don’t.  I-”

Din is running his hands through his hair nervously, looking flustered in a way that astonishes you: this big force of a man, looking unsure and tripping over his own words.  It’s endearing, and your tenderness towards him wins out and you put your hand up to his cheek; Din immediately leans into your touch.

He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed, worried that he’s ruined things, but when he opens his eyes, he sees you looking at him with softness.  When you see Din’s finally face relax, you chuckle, “That’s confusing.”

Din takes a deep breath, “I know.  Pretty bird, I would love to go upstairs with you.  I really do.  And without sounding too presumptuous, I would love to do all the upstairs things with you.  To you.  I want to.  I want you…but…”

You wait with bated breath for him to continue.

“…but I also…I want to… court you.”

Whatever you were bracing yourself for, it wasn’t this, “Court me?” You’re not sure you heard him right.

Now Din is running his hands through his hair again, looking sheepish and self-conscious, “Yeah… is that dumb? I…want to do things the proper way with you.  Take you out, get to know you, treat you special…court you?  I know if we go upstairs, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you, and things will go fast and… some of the nice things I want to do for you will get forgotten, maybe left behind…and… I want us to take our time.  Is that dumb?  Sorry.”

Din’s eyes can’t quite meet yours, so you press a soft kiss to his lips to which he gives you a small smile.  “It’s not dumb at all, Din.  It’s super sweet.  Surprising, but sweet.”

“Why surprising? Did you think me a hussy?”  Din pretends to look scandalized.

You giggle, “I mean, it’s pretty clear that I’m the one being a hussy here, old man.” 

“Old ma-..?” Din doubles down on looking offended.

You kiss him again before he can retort, “Okay. Let’s take things slow.”

Din kisses you slow and calm, all the urgency from earlier gone, as he settles into the relief of knowing he hasn’t inadvertently pushed you away.  Closing your eyes, you melt into Din’s embrace, letting him know with your actions that you’re not going anywhere.

“Do you want to meet the dog and go for a walk with us?” you mumble into Din’s shoulder, somewhat shy about inviting him to do something so familiar and domestic. 

“Nothing I want more, pretty bird.”

“Nothing?” you arch your eyebrow, teasingly.  Then practically skip into the building, giggling, as you hear Din chuckling behind you.

Al takes to walking with Din immediately.  The nighttime walk is lazy and comfortable; hardly any words are exchanged, but Din’s arm around you, and the soft kisses he presses into your hair throughout, tells you everything you need to know about how Din feels the date went.

Before letting you go for the final time tonight, Din kisses you deep and slow again; this time letting his hands wander down to where you had needed him earlier, palming your ass with both his hands, groping you lightly and making you yearn for more of him yet again.  Turning you towards your building door, he gives one side a light slap before bidding you goodnight with a wink, leaving you dazed and lightheaded as you head in with the dog.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #modern au #no y/n #modern!din djarin #din djarin fluff

[insuke69]

!Miles 42 headcannons

HES SO HOT OMFG HES SO FINE ANS THIS DUDE KSDJGQIUG HE BRAIDS AND HIS ACCENTS BRO IM ON MY KNEES AL-

fuck hes a minor dammit im a minor as well

no full on sexualizing p in v or whatever but lil things along those lines, nothing EXPLICIT ..i think, so yeah.

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(This is mostly for me that is painfully lonely and needa vent my thoughts abt this man as a perfect bf is some ways, ..i feel like he'd be toxic though.)

this is mostly for uterus havers :(

-He is a GENTLEMAN. whoever said chivalry is dead has never dated Miles: Opening doors for you, Paying for everything, Always letting you in first, polite mf.

-He loves hand holding, this man will always have something on you, hand, shoulder, etc. PDA goes hard

-y'all can be talking and blabbing on about something but if you are talking for 'too long' this guy will suddenly give you a passionate kiss when you're mid-sentence to shut you up. (It always works.)

-JEALOUS MILES; he would seriously do anything w you in public if another dude is staring at you. scenario:

imagine y'all are at the mall, you are focused on the shop you two are walking to as you and Miles make small conversation and Miles has his arm around you. suddenly with his hand on your shoulder he turns your chin so you look at him then just kisses you. when you say something like '???' not that you're complaining but sudden PDA isn't 110% something you do, this mf would shrug and say something like "Just marking who's mine." and the guys staring would be long gone.

-Miles has a pic of you two in his phone background/wallpaper, the image slightly more zoomed in on you yet you both are visible.

-His phone is either pristine condition, like new 24/7 or a cracked monstrosity that barely can turn on. There's so in between; fight me on this.

-hugs from behind + nuzzling into your neck.

-when you meet his mom + uncle Miles'd show his more polite/loving side when introducing you to his mom and his more mature side with Aaron

With him mom: "Mami, here is my girlfriend ____" he'd say with a soft smile and gesturing to you.

With Aaron: "Yo uncle Aaron, meet my girl." he'd say as he gestures to you with a small nod.

-if you are Mexican and at one of your family's parties, he gobbles anything in his sight, he doesn't have much spice tolerance but he'd drown himself in salchichas a la diabla or would add too much sauce to his tacos al pastor. Literally; keep soda or Agua de jamaica READY for when he gets spiced. (He'd act like he isn't and would try to drink his drinks casually, as if his tongue weren't on fire.)

-He makes playlists for you, with songs he knows you'd like and would smile to himself if you hum the tune, he'd recognize the song and would play it in the car or something.

-Miles occasionally takes your phone and uploads himself on your Instagram story just as a 'reminder' to the guys that follow you on there.

-He is an amazing kisser, you can't prove me wrong istg.

-Miles will keep him being the prowler away from you completely, wouldn't even go with you once he was done as prowler just in case.

-He has so much respect for you, him having a single working mother and all? he is so respectful of woman.

-He can unhook a bra w one hand.

-Makes hickeys on your lower neck, stomach, thighs a lil on chest. (He's a lil mindful at the fact that you may not want visible hickeys everywhere so when he does any on your chest he does it where its at least covered by a bra.. sometimes.)

-He barely has a small idea of how periods work but barely, he knows to at least keep his mouth shut and to give chocolates. (And to decline some of your advances 'cause nobody is risking having kids.)

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My phone hasn't been working so i wrote this on my stolen chromebook so idk how the spelling or grammar worked

p2 and p3 made

#across the spiderverse #miles morales headcanons #42 miles morales #miles earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles x you #headcanon #spider man miles morales