#you never should have ducking texted her

[kimberkingrivers]

It’s nights like tonight where I miss you, when I’m making dinner and it’s the recipe we learned together and both of our favorite foods. When I’m listen to my playlist and a song that reminds me of you comes on. When I see a stupid Halloween decoration that I almost get because it would have made you laugh as Christmas present.

But on nights like to night when I miss you, I think of the things I would have done differently, or how I should have said something else. But when it comes down to it.

I’m okay with being the bad guy in your story, even if once I was one of you’re biggest supporters. Even when I miss you and I want to be mad at myself for walking away, when I open your chat to send you a message, the chat that use to be pinned at the top of my page.

I walked away because I wasn’t doing you right, and I’m not going to fight for someone that doesn’t care I walked away. You once told me you hoped I would walk away. You got your wish. I walked away.

Even when it hurts, when I want to cry.

I realize I’m the only one hurting, you don’t miss me, you don’t even seem to care that I left,

and that’s why I walked away.

I was supposed to be the one beside you on your wedding day,

I was supposed to be the one you called after a long day at work,

I was the one that was supposed to be there when you got pregnant and it was the right time,

I was the one he was supposed to ask for your ring size and how best to surprise you,

I was the one that sat with you in the closet floor when you thought your life was falling apart,

I was the one that across from you in a burger joint when you poured your heart out and your fears,

I cheered you on when you walked the stage to get your college degree,

I was there for the breakups, the falling in love, the fear, the midlife crisis,

And then suddenly I wasn’t, I went out of town for a week, and you were in the hospital not bothering to tell me until you’d been released, and somehow it was my fault that I was upset you nearly died.

When I heard I need you to communicate with me you heard “cut all contact”

So now I won’t be the one that helps you get ready on your wedding day,

I won’t be the one waiting in the waiting room excited to meet the little one you carried,

I won’t be the one to celebrate when you get a raise

And I won’t be the one you call when you have a bad day.

But you also won’t be the one to stand by my side when I say I Do

You won’t be waiting to meet my baby,

You won’t be one of my calls when the test is positive,

You won’t be my call when I finally get the job of my dreams

You won’t help me get ready for a date

You won’t lay beside me and watch another movie on tv when we’re supposed to be sleeping

You wont be the person I stay up late talking to the night before the school dance,

I know I didn’t do everything right, there’s things I wish I could do over, things I wish I would have said, and things I wish I could take back. But even when I miss you, the hurt I feel now, doesn’t feel like the frustration and loneliness I felt when I was with you.

#why do best friends suck #fuck this shit #I miss her #I miss you #I wish I could do things differently #but I can’t #wish I could take things back #I’m less lonely with you gone than I was when you were around #but for the record 85 of the drama and problems or situations you delt with you got your self into #texting your boyfriends ex girlfriend and then ending up in a fight with him and her and her cousin #you never should have ducking texted her #that was supposed to say FUCK #the friends that stopped talking to you… yeah I know why #the fights you get in with you mom and friends I’m not saying that didn’t deserve some of it but damn you instigated a fucking lot of it #the amount of boyfriends you had in the few years I knew you #yeah that stems from attachment issues #those come from you family #your parents #your brother #sad when I feel like I need to apologize to him even when I know he doesn’t want to here it and he’s probably yell at me over it #you were supposed to be by my side forever but I knew you wouldn’t be #that’s why I kept you at arms distance #I’m glad I did #I know you’re secrets #secrets I will have to take to my grave #secrets I can’t talk to anyone about #the secrets I have to grieve #and you don’t know me as well as you think #because you can’t see past yourself to see anyone else #maybe one day I’ll meet somebody that cares about me as much as I cared about you once upon a time

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Protective Simon. For the beautiful and talented @lethalchiralium

Simon’s phone is ringing. 

Price raises an eyebrow from the end of the table, pausing mid-sentence, confused. Simon’s phone never rings. It’s always on full volume, because he never gets phone calls, except for ones from the 141, and they’re all here. At this briefing.  

His fingers find the ringer, ready to silence what he’s sure is a nuisance call, some telemarketer or robot, when he reads your name across the screen. 

You’ve never called him before. Unease tightens across his chest, and without any explanation, he excuses himself from the room and the bewildered looks being cast his way. 

“Hey, you-“

“Simon?” You sound off. Like you’re trying to be calm, but there’s something lingering on the edge of your voice, something scared. His spine goes stiff. 

It’s enough to propel him into action, his fist thumping against the window of the brief room, jerking his head south. I’m leaving, the motion signifies. Emergency.

“What’s wrong?” 

“N-nothing. Just… there’s this guy that’s been like, half a block behind me since I got off the train.” He closes his eyes. The fucking train. He wants you to stop taking the train. He needs you to stop taking the train. 

“He followed you from the platform?” 

“Well, he could be walking this way too…” 

“Where are you?” His keys are already in his hand, and he’s running down the hallway, past bewildered administrative staff and everyone else, bursting through the back door and into the truck. His phone chimes with multiple text messages, Price, Johnny, Gaz. All wondering where the hell he ran off to. Only Johnny’s text scratches the surface: Is it your neighbor? He waits another second in silence, hoping you’re trying to get your bearings. “Sweetheart?” 

“I’m… I think we’re coming up on seventh and Warsail. ‘m not too sure. I’ve kind been walking in a roundabout way.” We’re coming up on seventh… we. 

The baby is with you. 

His foot slams the accelerator onto the floor, counting his breaths as he maneuvers each turn in the road. Do you have the stroller? Are you carrying her? Did this guy peg you as an easy target because he knows what Simon knows, that women are more likely to go along with instruction if their child is threatened? That you’d never leave Emmaline behind? That you’d do anything to protect her? 

He feels sick. 

“Are there other people around?” He’s calm on the phone, trying to visualize the street, the buildings, the alleys. Easy spots where cars could reach the highway in seconds, and then be gone. Cramped alleys that connect to others like tangled webs, able to swallow a human being easy, disappear them into the darkness. It makes his stomach turn over. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel so hard; it hurts.

“Yeah, it’s close to the end of the day, so-“ 

“Stay where others can see you. Are you sure you’re on seventh and Warsail?” 

“Yeah. We’re in that park. I-I… wanted to take Emma to see the ducks.” Your voice wavers. “Simon he’s still behind us.” He’s turning the corner now, a block from your cross streets, and instead of yielding for oncoming traffic like he should, he floors it through an intersection, abandoning the truck still on, half parked in an empty street spot.  “Stay where you are, sweetheart. Okay? I’m coming.” 

“You… wait, what? You’re what?” He doesn’t hang up, but keeps the phone against his ear, and takes off down the street in a sprint, fully subscribed to the worst-case scenarios that have been building in his mind, images of you and Emmaline bloody and bruised, or worse. He gets them confused for a moment, memories mixing with the present, two things swirling together until they become indistinguishable, noise and panic roaring too loudly in his head. 

It all comes screeching to a stop. 

He spots you in the park. You do have the stroller, and you’re by the little pond, headphones in, Emmaline in your arms, her little beanie pulled down over her ears. You’re glancing around, nervous, saying his name into the mic. He scans the rest of the faces, passing over anyone who doesn’t strike him as a creepy git, until he finds his target: a skinny, younger guy lurking on the edge of the fence line, watching you. He hangs up the phone and moves across the park involuntarily, rolling his shoulders, and he vaguely sees you from the corner of his eye, mouth dropped open in shock, faintly calling his name. 

“Hey, mate. C’mere.” He shouts, half the people in the vicinity startling in his direction. Everyone seems to move away, like a magnetic force, pulsing outwards as he overtakes the guy with an easy grab to his upper arm. “You like stalking women with babies?” He hisses in his ear, voice low with barely contained rage. The guy is younger than him, but rail thin, and coked out. Probably looking for money. Simon jerks him closer, and he actually yells for help, like he’s a victim. It’s enough to ground the situation, making Simon realize he has an audience, and he grits out a final warning before shoving him away. “I ever see you around my girls again… I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Piss off.” 

“What did he say?” You’re frantic, rubbing Emmaline’s back in a circular pattern, over and over like you’re trying to calm her, even though she’s perfectly content. It’s you who needs soothing, he realizes, and he takes your hand without questioning it, letting his instincts guide him in regard to you without overthinking it. 

“He was high, love. Looking for money.” He doesn’t want to scare you but… he doesn’t despise the idea of instilling some hypervigilance. Maybe this will convince you not to take the train. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Think I scared him off for good though.” He looks around, and then slips off his mask, wide thumb stroking a soft touch on Emma’s cheek before giving you a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright now.” You visibly relax, but don’t let go of his hand, tilting your face up to his, all bright and beautiful, still coming down from the adrenaline of your fear with a whisper on your lips, meant for only him to hear. 

“Our hero.”

#peaches writes #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #this might be my favorite? #Simon threatens a man because he scared you and I find that very attractive #light on

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

#steddie #stranger things #janai.doc

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.

“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.

His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.

He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.

Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?

As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.

“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?

Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.

“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”

Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.

Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.

“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.

My Dearest Lucifer

His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer

“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.

My Dearest, Lucifer

       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.

“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).

“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.

“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?

Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.

Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.

How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.

But now...

Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.

Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.

“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.

Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.

He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.

[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.

Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.

Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.

“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.

A bit of a timeskip....

It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.

Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.

“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.

“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”

[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.

Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”

[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”

Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”

“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.

“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.

“That's it, you've crossed the line!”

“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”

You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.

Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.

After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.

I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.

Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.

[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.

Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.

Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.

I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.

I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.

Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?

For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.

Terrifying.

[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.

“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.

Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.

It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.

She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.

END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE

TAGLIST:

@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover

#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar #“MLIMAM” — LUCIFER X READER

[augustinewrites]

augustine!!! forgive me if this is alr something u wrote in kuwtf but!! i just had a thought come to me !!! did megumi (when he was younger) ever message/text/call reader (or gojo… but i doubt 😭😭) to come and pick him up in the middle of smth he’s rlly not enjoying? like !! him being all hesitant and shy abt it !!! but he’s like “can you pick me up… please” or “… i want to go home” 🥺🥺🥺

“okay, while the kids are with you, you’re the new me. strict, but fair. fun, but still careful—”

“ugh, that sounds so boring,” shoko groans. “i prefer being the cool aunt who looks like she could be their sister.”

“uh oh, it sounds like someone’s already raided our liquor cabinet,” gojo teases, sauntering into the kitchen to steal some of the snacks you’re laying out. “maybe we should have nanami babysit shoko babysitting our kids.”

you bat his hands away, rolling your eyes as he pouts. “that’s not necessary, i believe in her.”

“so…you’re saying i didn’t hear you call nanami first?”

“go get changed,” you mutter, ignoring his question and shoving him back towards the bedroom. he goes, but not without placing a big wet kiss on your cheek first.

megumi, who’d been coming in to find a snack, makes an affronted noise.

shoko throws her arm around him, ruffling his hair. “don’t worry about us! i got your very lengthy text message with all the instructions,” she assures you, waving her phone in front of you. “in bed by nine at the latest, no watching sex and the city, and no ending up in the hospital, prison, or the news.”

“yes. by the way, i ordered some pizza for dinner and  left some money so you can take them out for breakfast tomorrow, but please please keep an eye on megumi,” you remind her, swiping the crumbs off your hands and leaning your hip against the counter. “he likes to wander and has a problem with authority.”

“i don’t have a problem with authority,” the boy huffs, ducking out from under shoko’s arm. 

“ohhhh, but you do,” gojo chimes in, coming out of the bedroom dressed up in a nice shirt and tie. you slip your arm through his when he offers, letting him lead you toward the door. 

“have fun!” you call as satoru kneels to help you slip your heels on. 

“not as much fun as you guys will!” shoko calls back. it’s followed by, “say, megumi, have you ever smoked a cigarette before?” 

“ieiri!”

“kidding! you’re so gullible.” 

_____

“a hotel room with one bed!” you gasp, in awe of the king-sized bed sitting in the center of the room. you seat yourself atop of the luxurious sheets, the silk smooth under your palms. “i forgot what this was like!”

gojo sets both your bags down, smiling. “do you want to order some room service? we could order a nice bottle of champagne, eat some dessert—”

you hum, uncrossing your legs slowly. “i can think of something else you can eat…”

you reach up to grab his tie and tug him closer—

—only for it to come off entirely. 

“a clip on tie, satoru? really?” 

his cheeks blush a cute, rosy pink. “they’re really hard to tie if you’re not around to help me!”

you toss it to the side, laughing as he pulls you into his arms, aggressively planting kisses all over your face. he walks you back until you both fall onto the bed, his fingers crawling up the hem of your shirt.

“wait, is that my phone vibrating?”

_____

“what if she’s the one, tsumiki?” you hear shoko sigh, exasperated. 

“like your one true love?”

“yeah! what’s happening to me? i don’t even believe in that stuff.”

you and gojo exchange an amused look. no wonder megumi had texted. 

“have you told utahime any of this?” your wise-beyond-her-years 13 year old asks.

“what? why would i do that?”

“if you don’t tell her how you feel, you’ll both regret it for the rest of your life!”

“utahime and shoko?” gojo whispers. “since when?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest. “since always! you seriously never noticed? she had the biggest crush on her when we were in school.”

“i think i was just too busy looking at you.” 

you can’t help the way you smile at that, your heart a butterfly beat in your chest  “you need to stop, because we’re here to save megumi and if you keep sweet talking me…”

he tucks himself snugly against your back, setting his chin into the crook of your neck. “i’m more of a hands-on learner, so maybe if you show me what’ll happen—”

“finally,” megumi sighs, relieved. 

“whoa,” gojo stops him, tugging on the handle of the backpack over megumi’s shoulder’s. “what’s this for?”

_____

the backpack was for exactly what gojo feared. megumi sleeps soundly between you both in that gorgeous king-sized bed. 

“is this what the rest of our lives are gonna look like?” he asks, fingertips brushing your forehead.

“better get used to abstinence, pal.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #keeping up with the fushigojos #[💌—inbox]

[cupid-styles]

golf (sugar daddy h)

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint

sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Mia doesn't care about golf. 

Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those. 

And of course, Harry loves to golf.

It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.

Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go. 

She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.

So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no. 

Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand. 

Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop. 

"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"

"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."

He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself. 

She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."

But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea. 

. . . 

Mia sucks at golf.

Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?) 

"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"

Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end. 

"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"

Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance. 

Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it. 

She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt. 

"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"

"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"

"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."

She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much. 

"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"

She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up. 

"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head. 

"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."

Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road. 

"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."

Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.

#writing #sugar daddy h #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles one-shot #harry styles fic rec #one direction #harry's house #fine line

[beenbaanbuun]

glasses w/ jongho

“you’re cute with your glasses on,” jongho mutters from where he lays on your stomach. his chin digs into the back of his hands which just so happen to have found they favourite resting place atop your tummy. his thumbs rub circles into the soft flesh through the t-shirt you’d stolen from him, “you should wear them more often.”

you roll your eyes, choosing to ignore him in favour of studying the words that fill your laptop screen. the machine rests atop his back, his torso squished firmly between your thighs. you complained when he first pushed your laptop away to make room for himself, but it turns out his back is actually a pretty solid desk.

“they make your eyes look really big,” he giggles, tilting his head like a teenage girl staring at a poster of her favourite pop star. you shake your head, once again trying to ignore him as he attempts to catch your attention for himself, “they’re so huge.”

“telling your girlfriend she has huge eyes under her glasses isn’t exactly a compliment, jongho,” you mutter as you increase the size of the text on the screen a little. it looks wrong so you change it back, “no girl wants bug-eyes…”

he laughs a little at your declaration.

“never said you had bug-eyes, honey,” he lifts his head up just enough to slip one hand out from beneath his chin. you hadnt even realised your glasses are starting to slip down your nose until jongho pushes them back up with his finger, “i said they were big.”

he resumes his previous position, well almost. whereas before both hands were above your, well his, tshirt, this time he slips his hands underneath to rest against your bare skin. his fingers dig in a little as he holds the flesh firm in the palms of his hands. you should’ve known, you scoff to yourself as he lays his head back down with a content smirk on his face.

“you said huge, actually,” you correct, “and it’s still not a compliment, jjongie.”

“why not?” he replies instantly, “i happen to like it when your eyes look like i’m staring at them through a magnifying glass,” he ducks his head just in time to miss the scolding tap you try and give him. he giggles more, and you can’t ignore the way his socked feet kick against the quilt. it made you wonder how he had the audacity to argue whenever you call him cute.

you tut at him as he hides his smile against your tummy, quickly bringing a hand up to ruffle his fluffy hair. he leans into your touch, just like always.

“if you carry on, i’ll stop wearing them completely,” you grumble. he knows you’re not being serious, but the glare he gives you in return is still scolding enough to make you regret even joking about it.

“shut up,” he pouts, “you know i think you’re pretty when you wear them.”

you do. he tells you every time you wear them.

“you told me they make my eyes look huge,” is all you have to say in response.

he looks at you incredulously for a second before starting to move. he pulls his hands from beneath the tshirt, placing them either side of your waist so he can manoeuvre himself further up your body. you have mere seconds to catch your laptop before it clatters to the floor and smashes. you place it to the side and open your mouth to scold jongho, but before you can he catches you in a quick kiss.

it’s only moments before he’s pulling off of you again, but it’s long enough for you to get the message - shut up and listen to your boyfriend. you’re more than happy to oblige. especially when he’s wearing that adorable pout.

“you know why i like it when you year your glasses so much?” you shake your head. he hums as a smile stretches over his face, “it’s because they make your eyes look so big. it means i can see all the pretty little details,” he leans down to kiss your nose. you scrunch it up, causing him to laugh as he pulls away. not by much, just a few inches, “like, did you know that in your right eye, on the left side of your pupil, there’s a tiny little fleck of gold? it’s so tiny that you probably can’t see it without them. and your right pupil is always a little bigger than your left, too!”

you didn’t know that. it’s interesting, you guess.

“so you like them because you can study my eyes?”

he shrugs, “i guess,” he says, “but i also just think your eyes are insanely pretty, and having them magnified this much?” your eyes narrow as he teases you, but he pays no mind, “it’s like i’m looking at them through a telescope!”

“you’re annoying,” you grumble.

“so are you,” he refutes.

you pull a face, “if you tell me im ‘annoyingly pretty’ or something cheesy like that, i might puke.”

he shakes his head.

“no,” he smiles and places a tiny peck against your lips, “i’m just letting you know you’re annoying.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #jongho headcannons #jongho x reader #jongho fluff #jongho oneshot

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

༺═──────────────═༻

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale fluff #valentines day #valentines day fic

[ordalya]

.

#i am in such a bad mood i spent 4 days doing nothing but mindlessly watching tv going to work on a holiday getting frustrated because i #can't choose a new pc eating irregularly or not eating at all staying in my apartment with the shades closed because too hot otherwise #not getting dressed before 3 in the afternoon and then immediately going back to bed can't supervise what's happening at work my internet #is shit or it's the bloody factory who doesn't have internet anymore nothing ever work as it should when it does it doesn't last more than #a week didn't clean the apartment didn't go outside didn't cook didn't do anything i'm tired all the time and i don't want to go to work #i'm sick of it sick of my coworker sick because nothing works like it should i don't have the time to write all the technical support #documents and the co-workers doesn't take the time to THINK or doesn't THINK at ALL so shit never get done it's me who has to do the job #instead i should be writing those FUCKING tech documents i'm not because oh no! how do i do that because oh no! she didn't do it at night #oh no! i didn't know how to do it ! you did it already a few dozen times remember when we had to do it every 4 hours ? i wanted to say to #her but no i can do it if i don't have the protocol and your memory you have it ? or you ducking left it at home ? i so tired of them i #want to change job but i'm so tired i'm so insecure i don't have the courage to answer job offer there's one who is perfect for me but no #i'm paralyzed and stuck to my bed or my couch doing nothing nothing nothing i hate myself i feel so incompetent insecure i hate myself #should i tell you the number of time i dream of k #no no no non no #i hate that i'm self pitying i know exactly why i'm in this state and i do nothing do get better i have no friends i exchange at most 2 #messages a month with my sisters and if i don't go see my parents on weekends i don't text them i 'm awful at keeping contact with everyone #even my family i hate mu self and even writing all of this selfish egoistic shit is not making me better because i'm still on my bed and #not doing things i should finish the dress and the shorts i started month ago and i don't i get frustrated every time I look at it all it's #left is the finishing touches and i can't seem to FINISH IT i hate that i'm like that starting something and never finishing it #i want to hide forever and feel nothing and the only thing I finished is my diploma in seven years instead of 5 and i don't want to go back

[honestlydarkprincess]

settle

buck & chimney || rated: g || wc: 702 || read on ao3

A week after he’d been there to tell Maddie, Buck found himself once again at the Buckley-Han residence. Although he knew that she wouldn’t, a part of him hoped that Maddie would have told Chimney so he didn’t have to. But alas, here he was. Buck had already come out to three people so he was feeling a lot more sure of himself. He had however taken the bisexual pride pin Hen had given him and put it in his pocket for good luck. He felt around for it and turned it over with his fingers while he waited for Maddie or Chimney to answer the door.

Chimney swung the door open, a wide smile on his face. “Buckaroo! Just in time, you can settle this argument for me.”

“Oh, um, if you’re having an argument I’ll come back later,” Buck said, putting his hands up. “I don’t want to get in the middle of anything.”

“Not a real argument,” Maddie called from inside the house. “Chim’s just being ridiculous.”

Chimney scoffed, stuffing a gummy worm into his mouth and making Buck realize that he had a handful of them. “Come on in, Buck, we were just having a little movie night until your sister started spouting nonsense.”

Buck stepped into the house, his shoulders relaxing at the sound of Maddie’s laughter. It never failed to soothe him, knowing his big sister was there and that she was happy. “Where’s Jee?”

“She’s with Mrs. Lee for the night, she wanted some grandma time,” Maddie replied, patting the seat next to her on the couch. “Come sit. What’s up?”

Buck took a seat next to her and Chimney sat down on the armchair, munching on his gummy worms. “I, uh, came to talk to Chim,” Buck said, giving Maddie a meaningful look. Understanding dawned on her and she glanced at Chim who was looking at Buck with open curiosity.

“What’s up, Buck?” Chimney asked. “Why do you look so nervous?”

“Uh, well, you see— wait, you said you were having an argument?” Buck stalled.

“Yeah!” Chimney exclaimed, letting himself get distracted. “Maddie said that Henry Cavill isn’t attractive! I said that everyone thinks he’s attractive. You’re the deciding vote.”

Buck snorted. “Of course he’s attractive, I don’t have to be bi to know that.” He flushed when he realized what he’d said. “Uh, I mean— well actually, that’s kind of what I came to tell you, Chim.”

Chimney’s brows drew together. “That you find Henry Cavill attractive? Not that I’m not happy to see you man, but that could have been a text.”

“N-no,” Buck shook his head, biting his lip. “That I’m— I’m bi.”

“Oh,” Chimney looked surprised.

“When you said I made you my basketball beard, you weren’t exactly wrong,” Buck rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I, uh, yeah.”

Chimney grinned. “I knew I was a beard,” He crowed. “It’s not the first time I’ve been one, you get a sense about these things. Anyway, good for you, Buckaroo. Who’s the lucky man?”

“Uh, well, Tommy actually,” Buck flushed a brighter pink, a small smile playing on his lips. “He kissed me and we went out on a date. We’re, uh, taking things slow.”

“Oh, I’m surprised it’s not Ed—” Chimney was cut off from saying anything else when Maddie cleared her throat loudly. He looked at her and she shook her head slightly. Chimney pasted a bright smile on his face. “I’m happy for you, Buck. Congratulations.”

Buck gave them a confused look, but ultimately decided not to question it. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer. “Thank you,” He said, ducking his head. “I should get going. I’ll leave you two to your movie night.”

The three of them stood up and Maddie gave him a huge hug before passing him off to Chimney who hugged him just as tightly. “I’m proud of you, brother. Thank you for telling me,” Chimney said softly.

Buck’s breathing hitched and he squeezed Chim back. They pulled apart and Buck gave them both a happy nod before he headed out, humming a cheerful tune under his breath. That had gone well.

Now he just had to tell Eddie.

#the coming out series #jess.fics #jess.writes #my writing #my fics #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #chimney han #howard chimney han #maddie buckley #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fic #911 abc fic #ficlet #bi buck #bisexual buck

[moremaybank]

HOME THIS CHRISTMAS — j.m

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader prompt: "i thought you were going home for christmas?" - "well, i couldn't leave you all alone." requested: here (ty @drewstarkeyslut) warnings: none naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ

When you first told JJ that you had to fly back home to visit your parents for the holidays, you could see the sorrow in his eyes. He tried his hardest not to let it show, throwing on the best smile he could and saying “That’s great, baby. I know you miss ‘em. I bet they’re thrilled.” 

What he really wanted to do was get on his knees, loop his arms around your legs like a child and beg and plead for you not to leave him. He couldn’t help it. Most of the time growing up, he’d duck out of his house, not too eager to spend quality time with Luke. Quality time in which Luke would spend being wasted out of his mind and souring the mood. John B always had Big John to celebrate with, and now he has Sarah. Kie would stay with her parents and possibly do something at The Wreck to give back during the festive season, and Pope would spend it with his parents as well. 

It’s not like they tried to leave JJ out. That’s just what ended up happening every year. 

But now that the two of you were together, he hoped that he’d finally get to experience Christmas with someone he loved.

Too bad the odds just weren’t in his favour. 

He moped, albeit internally (though you knew him far too well to believe that he was happy, or even simply okay). With the date of your departure rapidly approaching, he grew even more defeated. When you asked him about it, he knew he couldn’t lie to you. But he would just say that he was going to miss you. That he’d been excited to start new holiday traditions with you, but you won’t have the opportunity to do so. And while you argued that you could still do everything he’d planned out before and after you returned, you understood where he was coming from. 

It wouldn’t be the same. 

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want you to worry about me. I get you all to myself for the majority of the year, you should be able to go visit your family without feeling guilty.” 

Your hands rub a path up and down his brawny arms. “You know, no matter how many times you say not to worry, I still will.” 

He smiles, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “‘N I love you for that, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let your guilt hold you back. You’re goin’.” 

And that was that. 

Or, at least, that’s what JJ thought. 

When JJ woke up on the twenty-third of December, the bed was cold and empty. There was no one scratching his back, kissing up the length of his spine and playing with his hair. No one whispered how pretty he looked as he slept, how tan he was in contrast with the white cotton sheets embracing him. 

His shower was even lonelier than the wake-up had been. Still, he forced himself to continue with his morning routine before begrudgingly getting himself to work. JJ never enjoyed work, but now that he couldn’t look forward to your daily visit…let’s just say he was no longer the ray of sunshine he always was in your company. 

The day dragged on, possibly the slowest he’d ever experienced. He waited for a text or call from you to ensure that you’d reached your destination with all your precious limbs intact. But hours went by, and he hadn’t heard from you. Worry bubbled in his chest, but he just told himself that you were reuniting with everyone, and you couldn’t find a second to pull yourself away from them. 

Meanwhile, you were running around ordering all of JJ’s favourite foods, buying matching pyjama sets and decorating your apartment. You hadn’t bothered to do so earlier since you were planning on being away, and truthfully, you didn’t want JJ to be surrounded by all the reminders of why you weren’t there. 

In hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to make it homey for him. Especially now that you were on a massive time crunch. 

When you were done, you shot JJ a quick message. 

Hi, baby. Miss you. There’s a surprise waiting for you when you get home. I hope you like it ♡︎

Though he would’ve loved to hear your voice, joy washed over him once he read your message. You were so good to him. You had a habit of acting like a madman every time you had to travel, and in between freaking out the way he knew you were, you took the time out of your busy schedule to brighten up his day.

The drive home felt far too long. He wished for nothing more than to shower, crack open a few beers and chill. Smoke so he could fall asleep without you. 

On another note, his curiosity also ate away at him. He wondered what his crazy girl had left behind for him. 

He stepped inside your shared place, noticing a cast of light coming from the next room. Shit, he thought, she’s gonna kill me if I left the lights on again. But when he reached the room, there you were, wearing red plaid pyjamas and fuzzy socks, standing next to a large pile of presents in front of your brand-new pine tree. 

“What…What are you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ home for Christmas?” 

You crossed the room, looping your arms around his back and looking up at him. You watched his blue eyes sparkle in the light. 

He’d never looked so delighted. Relieved. 

“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

“But, what about your family? They’re expectin’ you,” he spoke, though he pulled you into him further. “What if they hate me for making you stay here?”

Your head tilted, and your heart melted. He was so disappointed by the thought of having to spend Christmas by himself again, but the first thing that popped into his mind at the sight of you was the idea of your family being upset with him. 

He was too sweet for his own good. 

“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to stay. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without you. As for my family — who do not hate you, by the way — they’re coming down in a few days. And they can’t wait to meet the boy who makes me happy.” 

He didn’t even respond. Not verbally, anyway. He simply gave you a shining grin, cupped your face and kissed the life out of you. 

Oh, yeah. Best decision ever. 

#꒰ — naughty or nice ౨ৎ ꒱ #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj obx #jj maybank obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx imagine #obx fluff #obx fic #obx one shot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks imagine #outer banks fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks one shot #rudy pankow

[oceantornadoo]

hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

--

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

#john price #price #cod price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #price imagine #price headcanons #price one shot #john price x you #captain johnathan price #john price x y/n #tornadothoughts

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: pregnancy, kids (you guys have a daughter together), fwb’s, angst with a bit of a hopeful ending, refers to you as ‘girl’ once

Friends with benefits Bakugou who never really got over his ego to fully commit to you. You’re a little ashamed to admit it, but when you fell pregnant, you thought that things would change. That the whole “no feelings” aspect would’ve been dropped, that he would’ve embraced you fully.

But he just…didn’t? If anything, he distanced himself away from you, became so formal like you were another coworker he would address. It was heartbreaking, going through your first pregnancy feeling so, so alone, but having to grin and bear it the whole way through.

He supported you though in every way that he could. He never missed an appointment, would trek to your house during late nights whenever you craved something. He even moved you in to his own apartment during your last trimester, but a couple months after your baby was born, you went back home. You never felt unwelcome, but you couldn’t pretend to be a happy family when he slept in the guest room every night.

So now, you coparent quite easily. At least, it seems easy to Bakugou, but really, it’s all a facade.

In all honesty? He thinks he’s a fuck up. An idiot. The stupidest, shittiest person who’s ever existed.

He thought what he was doing was enough, that the words he didn’t say carried across oceans, formulated into titles that he never verbalized. So when you told him you would be happy to coparent, his world felt upended suddenly, as he holds his tiny little baby girl in his arms.

Coparent? How could a couple coparent? Where did he go wrong? (He only slept in the guest room to give you and baby space, only moved you in late because you lived so far away and you were getting so big. He never said I love you because he was too embarrassed to say it out loud. He didn’t know he had to say it out loud to solidify it. He thought you just knew.)

So it’s why his heart breaks when he catches a glimpse of curly blond hair and red eyes in the grocery store. He tries to duck behind an aisle, but his baby would recognize him anywhere. (It’s true; you’ve sent many videos of her recognizing him on billboards and tv commercials and magazines.)

“Bakugou?” You call, ducking around the corner to catch a glimpse of him. He tries to act nonchalant like he’s looking at cans of soup, tries not to cringe at your formal name. He turns when you come into view, eyes drinking in your attire. His heart breaks a little when he recognizes the shirt you took in your second trimester, still has the pic you sent him of you grinning as you show off what you stole.

“Hey.” Bakugou greets gruffly, mouth pulled tight, but it cracks into a grin when his daughter starts squealing. She’s in the front part of the shopping cart, twisting her little chunky body to get out and get to him. She damn near screams when he sets his basket down to pick her up, rubbing his nose to hers.

“How ya doing, squirt?” He asks quietly, pecking at her chubby cheeks as she instantly starts babbling to him. He holds her close to his chest, eyes full of pure love for his baby girl, and it makes your heart squeeze so tight you think it might burst.

“This isn’t your neck of the woods.” You mutter, head tilting to the side as you take in your daughters excited face to see her father. Bakugou’s eyes snap to your own, letting his daughter play with his fingers in the meanwhile. He looks embarrassed, cheeks a dusty pink as he grumbles and looks away.

“I was just picking up some stuff to drop off for her. Was gonna text you and see if you were home,” he replies, and something tells you that it’s a lie. But you don’t pester him about it, just nod a few times, taking in the sight.

He looks so good like that, in his compression shirt and sweats, his hair mussed from your daughters incessant pulling. He’s grinning at her, but looks so bashful when he turns to you, like he’s thinking about things he knows he shouldn’t, like he has a boatload to say but can’t cough up.

And if you were a mind reader, you’d be so fucking right. He can’t help but reminisce on before you got pregnant, the nights spent with you. The day you told him you were having a girl, the tears you cried when you delivered her. He thinks, filled with so much guilt the entire time, that he wants another one. With you.

“‘S it okay if I walk my favorite girls home?” He asks you gruffly, nibbling on your daughters cheeks to hear her giggle again, uncaring of the drool she leaves on his hand. You feel your eyes widen at his term for you, face suddenly flushing. Favorite? You, his favorite?

Something tells you that you shouldn’t fall down the rabbit hole that is Bakugou Katsuki and his suppressed emotions and shitty ego. But there’s another something that tells you to trust it this time, to let things happen organically and without expectation. So you do.

“I’m sure she would love to show her daddy the new toy her grandma just brought her.” You tell him, giggling when he rolls his eyes at the mention of his mother. But he walks with you the entire time you finish up your grocery order, holding your daughter the whole time and pays for your groceries despite repeatedly telling him that he doesn’t have to.

He pushes her in the stroller stored underneath the shopping cart on the way home, making small conversation. And when you’re halfway home, does he reach for your hand. Only to cross the cross walk though, he tells himself, only for your protection. But he doesn’t let go until you’re in your own place, and even then, he’s close by the entire time. He helps you put away groceries, remembers where everything is like he lives here.

And for some reason, the familiarity makes your heart ache a little more than you would like it to.

#full of sadness tonight srry #but I’m obsessed with this idea actually #I wanna expand on it even more in a fic #I don’t like to write angst for him but this idea is just :( #he’s so shitty at communicating his feelings and you hate assuming things #so many things are just left unsaid for so long that you just force yourself to get over it and move on #and he’s so confused and so angry that you could leave him like that #but he never had you in the first place now did he? #ohh it makes me wanna sob #obviously in the end you get back together and have 98 more kids 🙄 #but the journey along the way is RUFF #okay I’m done writing my wrist hurts lol #bakugou treats! 🍬 #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #dad bkg

[fluentmoviequoter]

My Shy (Ex)Valentine

Part 2 of My Shy Valentine

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!reader

Summary: Your relationship with Tim is perfect, until he starts pulling away. After he dumps you, you learn why and have to decide whether you can trust him again.

Warnings: angst to fluff, mentions of death threats and injury, quick reference to insecurities.

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I am 100% interested in continuing this series!! Also, I think we should name Hughie's dog and I am open to suggestions.😌

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from PInterest

You don’t understand how someone so handsome, kind, and loving can do this to you. Hiding your face, you try to ignore Tim.

“What happened?” he asks, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

“You,” you murmur.

Tim hums, moving a hand from your waist to cup your chin. He kisses you softly, and when you move toward him, he clicks his tongue.

“Needy tonight.”

“Tim,” you groan, leaning against him.

“I’m right here.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you sigh.

“Sorry,” Tim says, rubbing your back.

“Hughie said you’ve never mean that.”

“Hughie says a lot of things,” Tim grumbles.

“He said you’re grumpy and overbearing, too,” you add, tightening your arms around him.

“And?”

You shrug, smiling as Tim pushes you away gently. He shakes his head before walking around you.

“You’re not with me,” you offer quietly. “But you are with everyone else.”

“You know why,” Tim replies.

Turning away quickly, you walk to the patio door and let Kojo inside. Kneeling to pet him, you ignore Tim’s requests for you to come back.

“People are going to start thinking you like the dog more than me.”

“He’s nicer,” you mumble, ducking your head behind Kojo as he wags his tail.

Tim steps to Kojo’s other side, looking down at you with a pleased smile.

“I love you,” he says brightly.

“Maybe,” you reply slowly, “you could try to show it like a normal boyfriend.”

“But I’m not a normal boyfriend,” Tim replies, squatting beside you. “And you’re not a normal girlfriend.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Tim sits, pulling you into his lap. Kojo joins you, laying his head between you and Tim.

“I love you.” Running your fingers through Tim’s hair, you look at Kojo rather than Tim and add, “Sorry I didn’t say it before.”

“No need to say it, I can see it,” Tim responds before pulling you down into a kiss.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim returns from driving you home, he gets a text from an unknown number.

Leave her, or she’ll leave you.

Rolling his eyes, Tim blocks the number and continues inside. Kojo greets him happily, then looks around his legs to look for you.

“Miss her already? Me too.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets to work the following morning, he’s surprised to see an envelope on his desk. Opening it, he reads the same message as the text from a few hours earlier. 

“Lopez,” he calls, tipping his head to the side to call her over.

“Yes, Timothy?”

Tim hands her the note, watching her eyebrows pinch as she reads it.

“Where did this come from?”

“It was on my desk when I got here. Someone texted me the same sentence last night.”

“Do you- who are they talking about?”

Looking up quickly, Tim admits, “I didn’t think about that. It has to be-“

Angela says your name with Tim. Nyla walks by, and Angela grabs her arm, pulling her over.

“What?” Nyla asks. She sees Tim’s face and looks at Angela to repeat, “What?”

“Someone threatened my girlfriend,” Tim answers. “And I need your help.”

Closing her eyes, Angela wishes she was hearing that phrase from Tim Bradford for any other reason.

“Of course,” Nyla answers. 

“We need the number that texted, and I’ll ask the front desk to look into who delivered the letter,” Angela explains. “And, Tim, we’re here for you and her, okay?”

Tim nods, passing his phone to Angela without looking at your face on the screen.

✯✯✯✯✯

“’Arresting officer: Tim Bradford.’ Let’s see how you like having your life changed in an instant, Sergeant Bradford. That promotion can’t protect you or that pretty thing by your side.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim goes on a call with Metro, and when he returns, Angela shakes her head sadly. The message was from an internet number that can’t be traced, a delivery service passed off the envelope, and there are no other leads about who is threatening you, or why.

Clenching his jaw, Tim returns to his office and considers what he can do. Angela and Nyla are working tirelessly, and he can’t interfere in the investigation but can do other things to protect you. Each passing moment increases his stress, and when his phone rings, Tim ignores your call.

More than stressed, Tim is angry and worried at the same time. He has no other ideas than to distance himself from you. If you’re not at his side, whoever this is can’t get to you. They know his phone number and station, so he has to keep you away. Tim knows it will hurt, but losing you forever would hurt far worse.

When Tim’s voicemail picks up, you frown. Tim almost always answers your calls, so he’s either on a call or something else is happening. Refusing to overthink it, you turn your attention to something else. Tim will call when he can, you’re sure.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is different,” you say, hugging Tim as he meets you outside a restaurant.

“Wanted to try something new,” he answers, no sign of a joke or attempt to make you shy.

Nodding, you take his hand as he leads you inside. When you’re at the table, looking at the menus, he offers to order for you, and you thank him softly.

“Hughie said he has some new treats for Kojo, and he gave them to me because he thinks I’m Kojo’s favorite,” you tell him after he orders for you.

“He’s right, for once.”

You smile at Tim’s teasing, though it doesn’t seem as intentional and well-meaning as before. Tim is acting different, and after a few missed phone calls and the sudden desire to do things in public, you wish you could find the courage to ask what changed.

“Are you okay?” you ask, twisting the napkin in your lap.

“Yeah,” Tim replies, a small smile on his face. “Are you?”

You shrug, then nod as you look down. The night is spent in relative silence before he kisses you on the cheek and ensures you’re safe in your car before leaving.

It hurts, these sudden changes. You always act like you hate Tim’s teasing, but it’s part of what makes you love him so much. Buckling your seatbelt, you take a deep breath as you begin feeling sick to your stomach. You can’t lose Tim, yet don’t know how to pull him close again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Within a few days, Tim isn’t calling anymore. He has sent a single text, just an update that he has to work and can’t meet this week. Now, layered onto the hurt is a deep sadness. Whatever happened, it’s pushing you and Tim apart. You don’t feel comfortable talking to anyone about it, so you sit alone with your pain. As you settle into this new routine without Tim, you can feel your heart breaking, like a Tim-sized hole has been carved into your very being, with nothing to fill it.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Someone left one on my shop!” Tim yells, storming into the bullpen.

Angela and Nyla rise quickly, rushing to his side as his chest heaves with heavy breaths.

“Same message?” Nyla asks.

“No. This one says, ‘push harder or I’ll start pulling.’ What does that even mean?”

“Timothy,” Angela interjects. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Push her away. You’ve told her about this, right?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and Nyla and Angela sigh together.

“You need to tell her, right now,” Nyla says.

“What did you do?” Angela demands.

“Just- I’m keeping her out of the way. Far from me,” Tim answers, his anger disappearing as he thinks of you. “If she’s not close, whoever this is can’t find her.”

“Tim, we don’t know that. He knows too much about you, so he could know about her too.”

“Don’t say that,” Tim snaps.

“It’s the truth, Bradford.” Nyla shrugs at his anger-filled look before repeating, “You really should tell her. Otherwise, it just looks like you are pushing her away.”

“I will lose her to keep her safe,” Tim expresses. “So, you do your job and find them, and I’ll keep protecting her however I see fit.”

“Tim,” Angela calls. “When’s the last time you saw her?”

“About a week ago.”

“Well, I saw her two days ago and she’s hurting. Anyone can see it, and the only thing that is going to help her is knowing why you’re treating her like this. Tell her that you’re mad, scared, whatever.”

“I am scared,” Tim whispers. “Scared that no matter what happens, she will get hurt. Telling her could get her hurt, Angela.”

Angela nods, patting his shoulder as she reminds him not to lose sight of you while he works to keep you safe.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is going to leave you. It’s a constant fear, growing terrified that Tim will finally let go after moving you far enough not to miss you. You feel as though he pushed you to arm’s length, which means it is only a matter of time before he drops you, ready to bring a ‘normal girlfriend’ close. You’ve tried blaming yourself, but Tim reassured you so much in the time you spent together that you can’t even find a reason to do that.

The rift, the growing chasm between you, feels like the Grand Canyon, impossible to cross quickly and easy to get lost in. Lonely nights and the ache of a broken heart are two of the only consistencies in your life, yet you can’t stop loving Tim Bradford.

While you look at a picture of you, Tim, and Kojo, in which you’re kissing Kojo’s head while Tim kisses yours, someone knocks on the door. You still, your mind filled with an image of Tim breaking up with you, saying it’s him, not you.

When you finally open the door, you’re shocked to see Tim.

“Hi,” you breathe out, still half-hidden behind the door.

As open the door, Tim’s mind flashes with an image of you, injured by whoever is sending the threats. Just an hour ago, he received the most detailed of all of them, stating that if he didn’t dump you, someone would be dumping your body. The death threat was enough to make Tim listen.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tim says. “I’m leaving.”

Tim watches your face fall, then turns on his heel and walks to his truck. He nearly broke at seeing you, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and apologize. Leaving is the only way to make you think he meant it, because he can’t keep this act of not loving you up for much longer.

Pushing the door closed, your breaths grow shorter as you start to cry, sliding down the door to sit on the floor and mourn what you’ve lost, even though you saw it coming.

✯✯✯✯✯

After crying yourself to sleep, you fail to get any rest before getting out of bed again. You want to call someone and talk about what happened, but you’re scared they will see something you don’t, a way you could have saved the relationship. Getting through this alone is the only choice because the only person who can fix your broken heart is the one who broke it.

A loud knock echoes through your house, followed quickly by a bark you’d recognize anywhere. Rushing to the door, you don’t bother putting on a brave face.

“Whoa,” Hughie says, stepping toward you when you open the door. “You haven’t been answering my calls; are you sick?”

You nod, letting him in and turning your attention to his dog.

“I’m going to make you something to eat,” Hughie tells you on his way into your kitchen.

“Um, Hughie?” you ask, looking up with more tears gathering in your eyes (partly because you miss Kojo, if you’re honest with yourself).

“Let me get you something to eat and we’ll talk.”

You let his dog lead you to the couch, where he takes a protective post beside you. The tears begin again, and you cling to him as Hughie works in your kitchen. When he returns to your side, he pulls you into a hug, and you cry in his arms until you feel calm enough to speak.

“Tim,” you begin. “He broke up with me. It started a few weeks ago when he stopped answering my calls and then he acted like he didn’t want to see me. But last night he came over and told me he was leaving. That was it.”

Hughie tries to control his anger as he hugs you again, telling you it’s not your fault and “Tim is a bigger idiot than I realized.”

A wet nose nudges against your arm as you are comforted from both sides and while you appreciate it, you’re not sure it can help.

“You can come back home with me, stay in the guest room. Being alone won’t help you feel better,” Hughie offers.

Shaking your head, you decline.

“Hey, listen,” Hughie says gently. “You’re pale, I can tell you’re not eating. This is making you sick, inside and out. It’s not healthy to live like this.”

“I can’t,” you explain. “Eating makes me sick and I just- I want to know why he did it.”

“You’re crying too much,” Hughie points out. “That would make anyone sick. And as for the why, I wish I knew, because I would make Bradford pay for it, but trust me when I say it’s not your fault.”

You wish you could believe him, but you’re busy being heartbroken and miserable.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you go home last night?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers, his eyes scanning the paper again. “Got another threat and I’m trying to help Angela and Nyla. I feel like I should recognize something.”

“Tim, you can’t do this, it’s tearing you apart.”

“I’m doing that on my own,” Tim replies harshly. “This is my fault, Grey. The least I can do is find whoever this is so I know she’s safe. And then, if I’m lucky, I can explain why before I never see the woman I love again.”

“It won’t come to that. Have you heard about how she is?”

“No. I can’t call her and I’m sure Hughie hates me.”

“Yeah, speaking of Hughie, K-9 and Metro have a meeting at nine, so enjoy that. Maybe try to get a few minutes of sleep, you look terrible.”

Wade smiles as Tim chuckles. 

“I feel terrible, too.”

As Tim walks into the K-9 unit, he keeps his eyes down. He’s been avoiding you and Hughie, but a big part of him needs to know how you are.

“Hughie!” someone yells.

Tim instinctively looks up, and Hughie’s angry gaze is already on him. The dog at his side bares his teeth at Tim.

“Cap, do I really need to be here for this or can I continue assisting Lopez and Harper?” Tim asks his captain.

“Sure. They can probably use it.”

Tim ducks out, unable to look Hughie in the eye after what he did to you. Tim is guilty and mad enough without having to hear your best friend fight for your honor or interrogate him. He walks to Angela’s desk, making himself comfortable in a chair beside her as they review the facts.

✯✯✯✯✯

“C’mon,” Hughie urges. “Just for a few minutes and then I’ll take you to lunch.”

You appreciate his efforts to make you feel better, but going to the police station seems like a bad idea.

“I can’t eat,” you mumble.

Hughie sighs, laying his hands on your shoulders. “You have to eat. And you need to get out of this house. I’ll be with you the whole time.” He can tell you’re not convinced, so he adds, “And Tim has been avoiding me too.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The dogs are running the obstacle courses, and you sit at the side to watch as Hughie finishes paperwork in a nearby office. His dog is sitting at your feet, protective and loving as always.

You don’t notice the door open until you’re behind an angry dog, his shackles raised as he lowers his head and growls. Grasping for his leash, you pull it tight against your chest before seeing Tim on the other side of the obstacle course. 

When Tim notices you, he instinctively steps closer, and you have to fight to keep the dog beside you from racing to Tim and ripping him apart (though Tim personally thinks he deserves it).

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispers.

Though you can’t hear it, you read his lips before he walks away. Hughie returns as the door closes, taking the leash and looking at your teary eyes.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I’m going home,” you whisper before taking one of Tim’s moves and leaving without another word.

✯✯✯✯✯

A few hours after you get home, a florist delivers a bouquet of flowers to your door. You wonder if maybe they’re from Tim, but there isn’t a card, so you’re not sure. A few minutes later, though, someone knocks, and you hope it’s whoever sent you the flowers.

Wearing a mask, a man holding a gun stands on the other side of the door as you open it.

“Back up and let me in,” he commands.

You listen, your eyes on the gun as you step backward.

“Get on the floor,” he adds, waiting until your back hits the countertop in your kitchen.

Ducking under the bar top, you curl in on yourself against the cabinets as the man begins looking through your things. Wanting to ask what he is looking for, you wish you could make this go faster, but you’re too scared to speak.

“You see this?” he asks, lifting a picture of you and Tim. “This was a bad idea.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you whisper.

His gloved hands grab your shoulders as he pulls you up to stand and pushes you against the counter again. Suddenly, a third person knocks. You’re not used to so many visitors but, for once, you’re glad to have an unexpected guest.

“Who is coming over?” the man whispers roughly, pressing the gun against your side.

“No one, no one, I don’t know who that is. I never have visitors,” you explain quickly.

“Open it and get rid of them. And if you try to signal for help, I’ll kill you both.”

Nodding, you catch yourself when he shoves you toward the door. You take a shaky breath before opening it.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels terrible. He saw the look in your eyes when you realized he was there and how you protected him. Deciding that Angela was right, Tim needs to find you. You’re no longer with Hughie, so there is only one other place to look.

The moment you open the door, Tim notices your scared, tear-filled eyes. He grabs your arms roughly, pulling you outside and pushing you away from the door before he enters. You rush off the porch, standing before his truck as you watch the front door.

“LAPD, put down the gun,” Tim yells, his own weapon leveled on the masked man.

“Sergeant Bradford,” he spits. “We meet again.”

“Put down the weapon!”

The man lowers the gun to the floor, sliding it to Tim’s feet before dropping to his knees and ripping his mask off. Tim watches him as he calls dispatch and requests backup.

“This isn’t over,” the man says. “You arrested me once and I got out. Ruined your little girlfriend out there. What makes you think I won’t do it again?”

“Shut up,” Tim demands.

“We got it,” Nolan says, taking over as he and Celina enter the house.

Tim nods his thanks before holstering his gun and exiting the front door to find you. Angela and Nyla will be here soon, but Tim’s attention is on you, sitting on the driveway in front of his truck. As he approaches, he offers you a hand, his heart breaking again when you move away.

He knows you better than he realized, because this isn’t your usual shy reaction. You’re scared, or at least so hurt that you’re scared to trust him again.

“Can I sit down and tell you what happened? Just listen for a few minutes, that’s all I’m asking,” Tim requests. “I know it’s more than I deserve.”

Looking at your hands in your lap, you nod slowly. Tim crosses his legs beneath him as he sits.

“It started the last time you came over to my house. When I got home, I got a text that said, ‘leave her or she’ll leave you.’ I blocked the number, thought it was a prank, but I got the same letter at work the next morning. I- I thought pushing you away would keep you safe. The threats continued, and when I got one that said I had to break up with you…”

“Or what?” you pry.

“They’d kill you,” Tim whispers. “I’m so sorry. Angela kept telling me to tell you, but I truly thought I was helping, protecting you. Then, earlier today, I finally realized she was right. Sorry it took me so long. I, uh, I came straight over after that. Please believe me when I say my feelings haven’t changed, I still love you. This was just a misguided attempt to protect you and I’m sorry.”

As he finishes, your eyes are still down, so he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the truck.

“Did you mean it?”

Tim opens his eyes at your whisper. He shakes his head, promising, “I only did it to protect you. I want this, I want you.”

You look away again, and Tim thinks it’s over, that he ruined his relationship with you. Until you take his hand, look at it, and drag your fingers along his palm.

“I forgive you, Tim, but-“

“You can’t trust me again yet. I get that, but I will do everything in my power to show you that I love you and this will never happen again.”

Licking your lips, you trace the lines on his hands and try not to spur him on.

“Do you want me to like, hire a skywriter? ‘Cause I will; I’ll tell this whole city how much I love you,” Tim continues.

He grins when he sees your smile reappear at his teasing.

“You’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Tim sighs. “Even when you’ve been crying, and you should dump me.”

“You’re being unfair,” you mumble as you turn toward him, dropping your gaze to his waist.

“You don’t have-“ to ask.

Hugging Tim tightly, you don’t care that the concrete is digging into your knees. He returns your hug, dipping his face into the crook of your neck, clinging to you like you’ll disappear (again).

“I love you,” you whisper.

Tim moves, pulling you into his lap and chuckling at your surprised, shy gasp. “I love you,” he replies.

Tim stands with you still in his arms, and you push yourself against him, hiding from him and enjoying his presence simultaneously.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re smiling!” Hughie yells, rushing to your side as you enter the K-9 unit. “Did you- is Tim okay?”

You chuckle as you nod, petting his dog as you tell Hughie what happened. He nods and gasps along with your story, and when you stop with Tim’s confession, he presses to know if you kissed.

“Don’t ask her things like that, she’s shy,” Tim calls.

You smile at him; you expected him to come by but you're still glad to see him. Hughie’s dog positions himself between you and Tim.

“Hughie,” Tim says. “I’m sorry for everything I did to her.” He looks at you to add, “And I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

He steps toward you, and Hughie’s dog growls. Tim pouts, his complete focus on you as he asks, “Can you please ask Hughie to tell his dog to let me hug you?”

The way he asks makes you want to say no, but you also want a hug, so you oblige him, glancing over at Hughie. He snaps his fingers, muttering a command before the dog trots to his side.

Tim hugs you, whispering that Angela wants to talk to you. He and Hughie watch you walk away, both glad you’re back to yourself.

“Do something like that again and I won’t stop the dog,” Hughie says.

“Noted.”

Tim jogs to catch up to you, ducking his head by your ear to say something. You look away from him quickly, clearly growing shy. Hughie shakes his head before looking at his dog.

“I don’t get it, bud, but at least she’s happy again.”

#tim bradford x reader #my shy valentine #shy!reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie #requests #team shy!

[chronicowboy]

Eddie isn't sure why he doesn't tell Buck about Marisol. He doesn't mention meeting her at the hardware store, doesn't mention exchanging numbers, doesn't mention the many failed texting attempts, definitely doesn't mention asking her out—or, well, saying yes when she asked him out.

A month ago he'd know exactly why he wasn't telling Buck about her. Most likely because a month ago he'd still believe he and Buck were dancing around something, so he never would have blushed his way through an interaction in front of the epoxy shelf in the first place. But now, with Buck and Natalia, Eddie doesn't know why he wouldn't just tell him.

Buck would be happy for him. He knows that much.

And yet, Eddie doesn't tell him, doesn't want to tell him, wants to keep Marisol as separate from Buck as he can possibly manage given how they met those first two times. He just wants to have something that isn't defined by Buck.

(He already has the heartache when Buck mentions Natalia with that little smile, already has the fear of rejection whenever he asks Buck to hang out now, already has Christopher who tilts his head when he's confused just like Buck.)

But its impossible to keep anything from Buck for long. And really, he should have seen this coming.

"Eddie, that is so embarrassing." Buck is shaking with his laughter at Christopher's colourful retelling of Eddie wiping out in the school parking lot the other day.

"For me or him?" Chris replies without missing a beat, only succeeding in making Buck laugh harder. He falls across the length of the couch as he clutches at his sides and Eddie shakes his head from the kitchen doorway. "Besides, if you think that's embarrassing," Chris snickers, and Eddie blanches, "you should have seen him trying to ask Marisol out."

Buck's laughter stops instantaneously, his whole body freezing up, and the silence consumes Eddie whole. He swallows thickly as Buck drags his eyes away from Christopher to look at Eddie. For once, Eddie can't actually see Buck, not the way he normally he can, all he sees is the Buck who can rip his heart from his sleeve and tuck it back into his chest.

"Marisol?" he prods weakly. "Rosa's mom?"

"No, God, no." Eddie shakes his head vigorously, tries to get back on even ground. "You think any single mom at that school would say yes after the Monday fiasco?"

"Who's Marisol?" Buck asks without even a huff of laughter.

"We went and helped her out after we destroyed the house she was fixing up, remember?" Eddie shrugs, ducks his head to avoid Buck's carefully blank eyes. "Saw her in the hardware store a month ago, finally worked up the courage to ask her out."

"Technically, she asked you," Chris chimes in. "I have no idea why."

"Thanks, kid," Eddie sighs.

"Wait, so I can't date someone I met on a call but you can?" Buck butts in, a heat behind the words that makes Eddie's hackles rise.

"I never said you couldn't date her," Eddie retorts, trying not to let his frustration boil over. "I politely tried to remind you that you dating someone you saved never ends well."

"Oh, wow." Buck scoffs. "I didn't save her, Eddie. She had a scratch on her hand, I patched it up. That's it."

"Yeah, I patched Ana's hand up too," Eddie mutters. He glances down at Christopher and feels a tendril of guilt curl around his heart. He's already had to live through his parents' arguments before, Eddie's not making him do it again.

Eddie purses his lips as he retreats into the kitchen, settling back against the fridge to let the cool metal calm him down. He tries to sort through Buck's reaction, but it doesn't make sense. This goes beyond the protective instincts of a best friend, and it feels like more than just Buck's abandonment issues rearing their head.

Everything gets so fucked up when one of them dates. A mess that neither one of them thinks to clean up until its too late. To Eddie, it makes sense. Now, anyway. Now, he knows why he'd hated Abby's ghost so passionately, why he'd U-turned so sharply from finding Ali perfectly nice to a ticking time bomb, why he'd only hated Taylor more with every day that had passed. And, of course, Natalia who never stood a chance when she was hanging onto Buck's death and running away from his life. Because Buck would never hold a grudge, but Eddie does it gladly and without being asked, simmering at the side-lines.

But Buck's reactions never make sense. Not to Shannon, not to Ana, not to Vanessa, not to Marisol.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Buck asks as soon as the kitchen door closes behind him.

"I don't know." Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head towards the ceiling.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"I don't know." Eddie sighs, knocks his head against the fridge once for good measure. He cracks an eye open to look at Buck. "Were you going to tell me that you and Natalia bought a new couch together?"

"I did tell you." Buck frowns.

"No, I came over and saw the new couch and you distractedly told me that your mom's couch was covered in Kameron's amniotic fluid. Which you also didn't tell me about." Eddie folds his arms over his chest and takes a deep breath. "Buck, what are we arguing about here?"

"Our girlfriends apparently," Buck mumbles.

"I don't have a girlfriend. Just a date on Saturday." Eddie rolls his eyes, and a sharp thrill of bravery sparks at the base of his spine as he looks at Buck. "What are we really arguing about?"

"I-I don't know." Buck frowns down at his socked feet

"Maybe you should go back to the loft and figure that out," Eddie says quietly, hating himself for the flicker of hurt on Buck's face.

"Just me?" Buck croaks. "So you know what we're arguing about?"

"Yeah," Eddie whispers. He'd been arguing with himself about the very same thing for years before he'd just let himself feel it. Its only fair that Buck does the same.

"And you aren't going to tell me?" Buck asks wetly.

"Its something you have to figure out yourself, Buck." Eddie bites his lip and shrugs. "You don't have to leave now. I don't want you to leave," Eddie clarifies, "but no more arguing. Not where Chris can hear." And then, Eddie thinks that maybe he should give Buck a place to start even if Eddie never got that luxury himself. "He's already been through this with me and Shannon, doesn't need to go through it again with us."

He leaves Buck in the kitchen with the first clue to this little riddle of theirs.

#sami rambles #i want to know how buck finds out about marisol soooooooooo bad #and how his bitchy possessive nature pops out when he does #911 show #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #christopher diaz #911 fic #911 ficlet #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie ficlet #buck x eddie fic #buck and christopher #buckley diaz family fic #buckley diaz family

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

am i the asshole for cutting off my mentally unstable friend without any explanation whatsoever?

(🧠🌩️ so i can find it)

tw for abuse and cheating mentions

ok typing out that title makes me feel like i might be TA to, like, some degree but just hear me out first.

i (19, f) was in my first semester of college when i met rachel (20). we shared a class and grew to be friends over our shared nerdy interests. i admittedly didn't really like her that much at first and didn't consider her to be that close of a friend. she was really just someone to talk to when class got boring or we had a break or something.

i was actually kinda regretting talking to her at all because i clocked that she was a little unstable almost immediately; she was very quick to anger and constantly talked about fighting people that had ""wronged"" her (which included our professor who she was convinced was out to get her for some reason?? idk why our prof was a really nice lady), constantly trauma dumped without asking (i'm talking like early into our relationship too. first day we met she was ranting about her abusive mother and her childhood trauma and stuff), and always found a way to turn the focus of the conversation about her any time i tried to talk about myself or anything that wasn't our shared interests. the only reason i gave her my number is bc she asked for it and i didn't know how to turn her down without hurting her feelings--i'd been planning on ghosting the second our class ended.

so we continued to talk/text for like a year and (at her insistence) met up for lunch in between class the following semester. i warmed to her a little at this point so it wasn't too bad; at the very least her constant drama gave me something to talk about with my real friends, and like i said i didn't really know how to cut her off in a way that wouldn't start something.

so time goes on and she shuffles through a few boyfriends--all who either cheated on her or were inattentive/verbally abusive. she constantly asked me for advice, which was confusing bc she never listened to it? like she asked me if she should take back her ex who cheated on her 3x and i said "no that sounds like an awful idea" and then she exploded at me and screamed that i could 'go fuck myself' and to 'stay the fuck outta her business bc it's her fucking life and not mine'. but then the minute he (predictably) cheated on her again and dumped her guess who had to sit with her on the phone for 2 hours while she cried? yep. me!

this kinda bullshit continued all the way up to a few months ago. she met a new guy, told me all about how he was "the one" and "he's gonna be different this time" blah blah blah. at this point i genuinely stopped giving a fuck about her and her problems. the only reason i hadn't cut her off was because my other friends loved hearing about her drama secondhand and i admittedly did enjoy making fun of her with them. which i know is kinda shitty but at least she'll never find out about it?

anyways, shit starts to get particularly juicy bc two months into rachel's relationship with this new dude he proposes. and she accepts (?!!) not only that but she informs me (not asks. INFORMS) me that i will be a bridesmaid. and i panicked and just said "uhhh cool i'm so happy for you!!" so this is the point where i decide that i need to end this relationship bc having to attend her wedding is just not something i wanna be apart of and i felt that if i went through with that it would solidify our ''friendship'' in her mind and i'd never be rid of her.

so i stop responding to her texts as frequently and began ducking her calls. didn't have to stop initiating bc i never initiated convos with her in the first place. i'd answer every once in a while bc she would start spamming that she was having ""emergencies!!!"" which. they never were true emergencies; she just wanted to vent about her fiance and his shitty family or something his ex-wife did to piss her off (her fiance was like 20 and divorced twice with three kids. YIKES) and i'd listen until she got tired of talking and ended the call. not once did she ever ask about me btw. at this point she wasn't even to pretend to care about me or my life; i was just her dumping grounds for all her trauma and venting.

i thought she might've got the message that we were done bc she hadn't texted for like a month, but a few days ago i recieved a message that said something like "omg i haven't heard from you in a while, are you okay??" and. i'm not sure if i can put into words the sheer amount of exasperation and annoyance those words filled me with. like i could tell right off the bat it was just a ploy so she could get me talking and then vent and saddle me with all her stupid emotional bullshit. so i blocked her, finally. this shouldn't cause any problems bc she dropped out of school last semester (she was failing so she decided to start her own business).

the thing is, i know that she's mentally not well. she is very erratic and immature, add that to the fact that she's gone through a lot of trauma throughout her life and the end result is a deeply flawed person. at the same time i'm not responsible for her mental health and continuing to play friends with her what i don't even like her in the first place seems disingenuous. but she's got abandonment issues, so me doing this is probably gonna hurt her. although me being honest and saying that i can't stand her and her drama anymore probably wouldn't feel any better.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole