#(AND ALSO WITH UNAWARENESS HEY MAYBE YOU SHOULD TURN DOWN THE)

[callalillywrites]

Shooting His Shot Part 1

The original version of this story is something I've been wanting to expand for a while now. I finally got my chance, and it's become one of my most indulgent stories yet (I think). What was 1200 words is now over 8000 and split into two parts. Part 2 will be available in a few hours.

I had so much fun with this AU that I could easily persuaded to expand the universe a bit more. Ideas are already forming for a few of the other characters, but I'll hold off until I know others want to see them as well. It's not like I don't have plenty of other stories to work on anyway. 😊

The gif below is somewhat the look I was going for with Steve in this fic though he's given a suit jacket to wear. But yeah, this is it. One of my favorite looks of his btw.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Other notable characters: Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen, Sam Wilson, Ari Levinson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, and honorably mentioned Curtis Everett

Word Count: 4350

Summary: Steve owns a steakhouse that you used to frequent before your ex came into the picture. Now, your ex is gone, and you're ready to head back to the one place you've always felt welcome and wanted. What neither you nor Steve count on is his staff, led by Bucky, launching a full-one assault effort to get you two together. It's time the two of you realize your feelings for one another.

Warnings: abusive ex (Reader's), pining, so much pining, fluff, two ridiculous idiots in love, a whole bunch of matchmakers

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent story made like one of those cheesy rom-com which is my bread and butter at this point. It's proofread, but any mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

PART 2

*****

A few hours before dinnertime rush begins…

It might be his day off, but Steve’s made it such a habit that he can’t stop himself. After all, he keeps hoping that you’ll walk back in the door of his steakhouse one day. Even if it’s been six months since he’s last seen your smiling and pretty face.

To help the hours pass, Steve turns to their books and reviews them. He might as well work on payroll for the week and get the checks ready for the following week. While he’s at it, he might look at their orders and see how they’re sitting as well. Maybe he should venture into the kitchen soon and speak with Bucky about their upcoming inspection. Not that they weren’t ready, but one can never be caught unawares. Besides that, they pride themselves on having one of the cleanest kitchens in the county.

As if conjuring up his best friend, Bucky stands in the doorway with one of their famous lunch specials.

“You’ve been at it long enough, punk. Take a break and eat something.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bucky steps into the room and sets the plate down on Steve’s desk, careless of the few neat piles Steve’s created that morning.

Steve stares at the plate for a few seconds before his stomach makes it known how empty it is. He probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast after the workout he pushed himself through that morning.

While Steve takes a bite of food, Bucky sinks into one of the other chairs and sprawls himself out. He pulls out his phone and grins at whatever he finds waiting on his screen.

“What’s so funny, jerk?”

Bucky shakes his head, content to sit there and wait for Steve to finish the plate.

Knowing he won’t leave without Steve eating everything, Steve takes another bite. Each new fork or spoonful, he shoots Bucky a look, only getting a smug smirk in return. When Steve finally finishes the plate, he sets it aside and goes back to his computer screen. He’s almost certain Bucky won’t be sticking around too long, having enjoyed the small break he’d gotten in feeding Steve.

When one of their cooks happens to walk by, Bucky notices, too, and shouts out, “Hey, we get that order from the bakery down the street yet? I wanna make sure they sent along some of their best treats.”

Steve’s attention returns to Bucky.

Before he knows it, Bucky smacks his knees and pushes to his feet. With an efficient movement born of years in the kitchen, he grabs up Steve’s empty plate and turns toward the door.

“Hey, punk, you might wanna freshen up. We’re getting a special guest tonight. Maybe this time, you’ll man up and shoot your shot.”

Steve’s brows furrow at Bucky’s words.

At least they do until Jensen walks by with an excitement Steve hasn’t seen in a few months.

“Did you hear, Boss Man?” Jensen asks as he tells Steve about the reservation that’s just come in.

A reservation for one in your name.

*****

You check your new outfit a final time in the mirror, satisfied with your efforts. The makeup you’ve chosen for the evening is minimal since you’re only interested in pleasing yourself.

Almost a year wasted with a man who never appreciated you. A man who wanted to shape and mold you into some ideal that you could never be, never wanted to be.

Six months without visiting one of your favorite places in the entire world. All because that same man had been so jealous of the attention you got from everyone there but especially from one Steve Rogers.

Oh, you can only hope that you might see Steve again that evening, having missed his sweet smile most of all these last several months. He’d been one of the first there to make you feel welcome. One by one, so did the others, but you always came back because of Steve.

Part of you wishes still that he would’ve made a move on you during one of your many visits to the steakhouse over the past few years. Maybe then he would’ve saved you all those months with someone less deserving of you and what you had to offer.

He never did though.

So, you accepted the two of you would just be friendly toward one another, just like you were with all the others there.

You can live with that.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you grab up your jacket and purse.

A final glance in the mirror to ensure your outfit is still perfect for the night you have planned. It’s during this time that your phone pings with the arrival of your Uber.

The ride to the steakhouse takes you through the familiar streets you’ve missed. It amazes you how much they have stayed the same though there are some changes that surprise you. Your favorite used bookshop’s doors have shuttered, but the café you used to visit almost every morning still thrived. A couple of new tiny shops have opened while others remain with a couple that have closed. The eclectic collection of shops was what drew you to this area in the first place when you’d been looking at universities.

Anger fills you for a moment at how manipulative your ex had been with your routine and your life. How could you let him work you like he did? How could he take the very things that made you happiest because he couldn’t handle his own feelings of jealousy and inadequacy?

So many of the hours you used to spend on these few streets, window shopping and getting to know the owners of the shops. They’d been lost to you when you let your ex into your life. Friends lost because of him. You could only wonder what they’ve been up to these past months while you’ve slowly descended into a level of hellish isolation you never wished to be in again.

As the steakhouse appeared in front of you, you perk up. Your hands automatically fidget as they run over your outfit to ensure the few wrinkles from sitting in your Uber didn’t remain when you step out in a few minutes.

A part of you hopes that Steve and all the others haven’t forgotten you.

Yet, why would they remember you?

Friendly or not, you’re still just a customer to them. A good tipper, sure, and always courteous to every employee from the bussers to the owners. You’ve never had a reason to complain about the food or the service from them, and you always tried to make sure they had no reason to complain about you.

Over the years, you’ve even gotten to know a bit about each of them. Jake’s inability to flirt despite giving him lessons whenever he served you. Nat’s intense loyalty to those she works with and her regulars, including you. Sam’s sweet but serious nature. Bucky’s strive for perfection with each dish that leaves the kitchen. Ari’s innate ability to know just what drink you need the moment you step inside (always a mocktail for you). Peter’s awkward friendliness that’s just downright infectious.

Then, there’s Steve.

Oh, you’ve learned a lot about him over the last couple of years.

He’s never been one to back down from the rowdier customers, standing firmly on the side of his staff. It’s something you’ve seen firsthand a time or two, and you’re always impressed with the way he manages to keep his anger in check. At least, inside the restaurant. You’re not unaware of the bloody knuckles he’s come back in with after escorting these obnoxious customers from his place. No doubt they deserved it, but you did worry about the consequences for him and the possibility of pressed charges.

Steve’s also been the first to lend a helping hand to those less fortunate in the neighborhood. If it’s not a free meal to help refill their empty stomachs, it’s offering them small tasks for which he handsomely pays them, even those that take less than ten minutes. He always makes sure they get enough to help through the day or even a few days. You’ve seen the kindness that comes from him and his staff, and it’s one of the many reasons your crush on him hasn’t dwindled over the years. No, it’s blossomed in ways you kinda wished it wouldn’t. There’s little hope of him ever seeing you as anything more than a valuable customer.

You’re brought out of your reverie when your Uber driver clears their throat.

Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and wrap up your business with them, stepping from the car and waving them off.

The large wooden doors leading into the steakhouse speak of an understated elegance and welcome that calls out to you. Beckons you to enter the establishment and know you’re among friends, among family.

It’s a feeling you’ve missed greatly these last several months.

Taking a breath, you pull one of the doors and step into the small entryway. The glazed inner doors don’t hide the rich interior within though they do lend some privacy to those already inside. The place is packed as usual with some guests standing or sitting on either side of the entryway, waiting for their tables.

You smile as you catch sight of a familiar face standing next to an unfamiliar one at the host stand.

Without hesitation, you open the glazed door while your smile widens into a full grin. “Well, well, well, aren’t you looking spiffier than ever, Sam?”

Sam’s head shoots up and his smile matches your own. He steps around the stand and closes the distance between the two of you. A low whistle comes out as he moves his finger in a circular motion, getting you to give him a small spin. Another whistle escapes him.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. It hasn’t been the same since we last saw you here.”

The soft reprimand isn’t missed, but you don’t hesitate when he embraces you, his forgiveness as quickly given. In your ear, he adds softly, “He hasn’t been the same.”  

Your brows furrow at this new piece of information.

Yet, you’re not given a chance to think on his words before Sam’s sweeping you away from the foyer and deeper into the steakhouse.

“Come, your table isn’t ready just yet, but I know some other people who want to see your lovely face again.”

Within a few more steps, he’s pulling out a barstool at the full bar off to the side of the steakhouse. Another friendly face turns to greet you with a big grin on his fully bearded, handsome face.

“Ari,” you say with another genuine smile for the man behind the bar.

Sweeping his longer than before locks from his face, Ari flashes you a grin of his own. “Gorgeous, long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Doing much better since I dropped the one-eighty anchor weighing me down.”

Ari’s grin grows. “Good riddance. For your good fortune, I have just the thing for you. One of my newest concoctions that I think you’ll enjoy. On me.”

“Oh, no, I can’t let you do that.”

You’re not allowed to go any further as Ari’s large hand settles over yours. His gaze softens into one of sheer fondness and full sincerity. “Yeah, you can. We’ve all missed you. It hasn’t been the same since you stopped coming in.”

“I’m just a customer,” you say, not fully understanding.

Ari shakes his head. A sympathetic smile takes over his original welcoming grin. “You’ve really no idea what you’ve been to all of us, have you?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, setting about mixing various ingredients in the special station he created some time ago. You lose track of all that he’s mixing and matching until he finally pours the concoction in a glass and tops it with a tiny umbrella in your favorite color.

The explosion of flavors that come has you wiggling a happy little dance on the stool. While you can’t help thinking the mix shouldn’t work, it does in ways that are pleasant and hits you with a burst of such happiness. It’s such that you can’t help taking another long sip.

“Oh, you’re a true genius, Ari.” Your words are punctuated with a sip. “Mm, I love it. I’ll have to make this a standing order every time I come in from now on.”

Beaming, Ari taps the bar. “I’m holding you to that, gorgeous.”

Another customer ends up taking Ari away, but it’s just as well. You’re more than content to continue sipping your new favorite mocktail, one of many Ari’s presented to you. The man’s a notorious flirt, watching him rake in several tips over the next few minutes, but he’s also a connoisseur when it comes to alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

He comes back at the same time Sam reappears.

“Your table is ready, pretty lady.”

Saying a quick farewell to Ari, you take Sam’s offered elbow and allow him to lead you to what you believe is your usual table.

It’s more than a little surprising when he sweeps past the main dining area and through a hallway towards what you assume are the back offices and other personnel only rooms. He doesn’t stop until he pushes open a door and reveals a table set for two in a private room.

“What’s all this? Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam merely grins as he leads you to the table and holds out your chair for you. It’s only after he’s given you a menu you don’t need that he says, “I’m trying to make sure Bucky wins the bet this time.”

“Bet? What bet? You have a bet that concerns me?”

Rather than answer, Sam shoots you a wink and disappears through the door, closing it softly behind him.

A moment later, soft music drifts through hidden speakers. The melody is low but romantic though that does little to answer any of the questions this evening’s brought so far.

*****

Steve’s just finishing up the last of the paperwork when Bucky barrels into his office.

“She’s here, punk.” Bucky slams his door shut and gives Steve a thorough though quick once-over. “Is that what you call freshening up? I’m never going to win my money back from Sam if you keep this up.”

“Aren’t you slammed right now? What are you doing here?”

Bucky waves his hand in dismissal. “Everett’s got it for the next few minutes. I’m here to make sure you don’t mess this up a second time.”

Steve’s trying to follow his best friend. Really, he is.

Bucky just isn’t making much sense at this point.

“Mess what up? Buck—”

Another wave of Bucky’s hand has Steve going silent. Strong hands move his chair out of the way before he’s being tossed a garment bag.

“I had Nat pick this up before she clocked in. It should still fit, so hurry up and put it on. You can’t keep a beautiful woman waiting too long.”

Still not following but at least complying for the moment, Steve unzips the bag and finds a nice button-down shirt with what appear to be new pants. A suit jacket completes the look though he’s unsure why he needs such clothing.

“Nat’s got a good eye,” Bucky muses aloud as Steve pulls the ensemble from the bag. “That color will certainly impress her. Now, come on. We don’t have all night here.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve hurries to change his clothes.

If Bucky’s going to be like this, it’s easier to just go along and figure it out along the way. At least that’s been Steve’s experience every time Bucky’s been excited about something. It goes for everything from the latest technology to the ladies, and it’s been like this since the two became friends so many years ago.

The only time it really changed was the six months or so after they both discharged from the army. While they’d both seen combat, something happened to Bucky that he still refuses to discuss most days. Those were the hardest months of their friendship, but Steve refused to walk away, even when Bucky practically shoved him out the door a few times over.

Their eventual takeover of Bucky’s grandparents’ restaurant helped give them both a new direction and strengthened their friendship into something stronger than before they’d enlisted together.

His thoughts clear as he finishes putting on the shoes Bucky hands him, also in Steve’s size.

“Better?” Steve arches a brow at Bucky in question.

Another thorough once-over has Bucky reaching out and unbuttoning the top button of Steve’s shirt. A quick tug of the collar soon brings a grin to Bucky’s satisfied features. With a nod, he says, “Better. Let’s go win your girl, punk.”

*****

You aren’t left alone for long as Jake and Peter come into the room. While Jake’s carrying several items rather precariously, Peter follows him with flatware in their signature napkin wraps.

The fancy cloth’s colors have changed, you note, from a deep blue to a burgundy red. It’s a sign the steakhouse is gearing up for their fall season. Each season has its specific color as you learned from Nat some time ago. Something started by Bucky’s mom back when she and Bucky’s dad ran the restaurant.

“Hey, Pete, how’s school going?” you ask as the younger man moves out of Jake’s way.

Your gaze briefly leaves Peter’s face to take in the small crystal vase with a mini bouquet of seasonal flowers. Their signature glasses follow it on the table as well as everything else one might need at a steakhouse. The table soon overflows with all the items those in the main dining room have though the table itself is a bit too small to accommodate so much.

Peter pulls your attention back to him, saying, “I graduated a couple months ago. Classes at university aren’t bad though they’re not leaving me as much time to work as I’d like. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers promoted me to server as my graduation gift. They say I earned it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you did.” You grin at him, quite proud of him. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It’s okay.” Something in Peter’s voice tells you it’s not really, but he’s also not going to hold it against you.

Hoping to make amends for your absence in some way, you turn to Jake. “Well, maybe I can make it up to you if Jake here doesn’t mind sharing me with you tonight. I’d love to do something for such a momentous occasion, Peter. I know how hard you’ve worked through school and in school.”

Jake nods quite enthusiastically. “Not a problem with me. Nat might complain though.”

“No complaints from me,” Nat calls from the doorway, walking past with some plates from the kitchen. “He should be joining soon. Jensen. Parker, make sure he doesn’t screw this up again.”

“We’re not miracle workers,” Jake quips.

With that, Nat’s gone though you can make out her laughter down the hall.

Turning back to Jake and Peter, you ask, “Who is he? What is he not supposed to screw up?”

The two exchange a glance before Jake clears his throat and mumbles, “Boss Man.”

It might’ve been some time since you’d been at the restaurant, but you know Jake only calls one man that name in this place.

Steve.

You’re not sure what Steve has to do with you or why he’d be joining you. After all, you only made a reservation for yourself. The thought of someone else joining you hadn’t entered your mind.

Yet, you can’t say you don’t like the idea. You, in fact, really like it. It’s been something you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember and every time you’ve come here single. If only he had made a move, then maybe you might believe that he’s interested in you now. Nothing in the few years you’ve known him has hinted that he likes or liked you the way you like him.

Before you can get too far down that rabbit hole, another voice breaks the quiet of the room.

“There’s the most beautiful doll in the world.”

You smile as Bucky enters and pulls you from your seat for a hug.

“We’ve missed you around here. My kitchen staff has suffered dearly with your absence. Lost all their inspiration without your unique combinations.”

Shaking your head, you accept his kiss on your cheek and give him one in return.

“I’m sure you keep them on their toes plenty. It is nice to be back though. I’ve missed you all, too.”

Before he lets you go, he whispers, “If the punk is too dumb to shoot his shot, I just might if it means keeping you around. You light up this place in ways it hasn’t since my ma retired.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back.

Leave it to Bucky and the others to make you feel so special even after such a long time being gone. It’s your sincerest hope to never stop coming here, not letting anyone keep you away from somewhere you’ve always felt welcome and wanted.

“You’re very cute,” you whisper back, “but you’re not really my type.”

He chuckles, not offended in the least. It’s not the first time you two have had this conversation. It probably won’t be the last, either, which suits you just fine.

At last, he releases you from his loose hold.

“I should get back to the kitchen. Don’t need Everett or the others to burn it down.”

You shake your head fondly. “Give Curtis more credit than that. He’s a wonderful sous chef, and you’re lucky to have him. I’m glad you took my thoughts to heart where he’s concerned.”

“How could I not? You’ve never led us astray before,” Bucky says, shooting you a wink and a farewell nod. His heavy footsteps can be heard on their way back to the kitchen where he’s always felt his most calm.

When your gaze follows Bucky’s path, it soon collides with the one person you’ve been hoping to see all day.

Your smile grows once more. It’s almost certain your cheeks will be sore in the morning from all the smiling you’ve done this evening. In a breath, you say his name.

“Hey, bijou,” he says, his voice low but warm.

You do your best not to fidget, to seek out any invisible wrinkles in your outfit.

It’s taking everything in you to keep your gaze locked with his even as you take in the navy-blue suit he’s wearing. No tie and the top button unbuttoned does something for him in ways you’re wholly unprepared for. This man is too handsome by half, and he doesn’t even know it. How fair is that to any poor woman who happens upon him?

At last, you find your voice. “You look handsome. Big date?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer as Nat walks by again. She’s wearing a big smirk when she says, “If he’s not a complete idiot, it is.”

Your confusion isn’t lessening while Steve sends a look at Nat though he relaxes a bit, his voice almost amused. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Not only are my tables handled, boss, but I have time to make sure you win your lady.”

You don’t miss the way Nat’s gaze trails to you, her smirk intact, before she returns her attention to Steve.

“Don’t mess it up,” she says, moving away, “boss.”

The offended incredulity on Steve’s face has you fighting laughter. You’ve never seen him quite so put upon and by his staff, no less. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t tease him from time to time as you’ve witnessed. This is the first time though that the rest of the staff has joined in. You honestly can’t help wanting to laugh at the spectacle, even if you don’t quite get what they’re trying to do and what it has to do with you.

Steve seems to shake himself when his gaze finds yours. His throat clears before he finally says, “You are stunning, bijou. Special occasion?”

“Yeah. Celebrating me.” You can’t help the heat that rushes into your cheeks as you say the words. They’re so much easier to consider when you think them, but saying them aloud is something else entirely. You quickly add, “I also really missed this place.”

I missed you.

You manage to keep that thought from spilling out, leaving you open for rejection.

Eager to keep that thought from coming out, you glance around the sparsely decorated room. It’s clear this wasn’t a private dining area before, but no clue exists on what it was before the others must’ve hastily redecorated this space. For what purpose, you can’t say with any certainty.

Yet, there is a hope.

The room might not have much, but it does have enough to appear something cozy, something charming. Maybe a bit more mood lighting, then the others would succeed in whatever they were creating.

When your gaze finally returns to Steve, you swallow.

He remains in the doorway, but the look he has while watching you is something you’re not wholly prepared for. One corner of his mouth is curled upwards while his eyes are soft but focused solely on you. It’s almost like he hasn’t stopped looking at you as you take in the room. That’s a heady sensation indeed for you as you haven’t experienced that ever.

Not any of your exes. Especially not Brock. Not in the way Steve’s doing anyway.

There’s wonder and perhaps longing staring back at you.

It’s that look that compels you to ask, “Would like to join me? I mean, if you don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“I’d really like that if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he says, pushing off the doorway.

You shake your head. “I don’t mind.”

*****

Main Masterlist

[koushirouizumi]

{Syo}+{Natsuki}+{Ren}+{Otoya} ~ "U.U.U.U"

{WARNING: VERY FLASHY Please turn down your brightness setting beforehand if you think you need it!!}

[harmeu]

GUILT

(HSR MEN X READER) (ANGST)

(GN!READER) 

Synopsis: You and Sunday were dating but then you overhear him talking to those who work with him about how you’re just a pawn for his games.

SUNDAY:

Soft footsteps echoed as you walked through the halls of where your beloved boyfriend Sunday lived. Though a feeling of unknown dread crawled onto you as if warning you of something soon happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Your eyes lit up as you heard your boyfriend speaking to those who worked under him and you couldn't help but eavesdrop. The curiosity of how he acted when he wasn’t around you dwelling in your mind.

“It’s simple. I’m using them. They are just one step closer for me to get closer to my goals.” Sunday said with a calm smile, hands gently tracing his desk looking down at the men who were talking to him.

You were confused.

What were they talking about?

“Sir..are you sure? Aren’t they attached?”

“My so-called significant other is definitely attached. Though that benefits me. Much. More. Easier. To manipulate.”

You paled.

He was using you.

Tears bubbled up in your eyes and you held your hand to your mouth to stifle any noises of sadness that were threatening to come out.

Hitching and turning on your shoe you make a dash for it unaware that Sunday caught a glimpse through the slit of the door open with his eyes. His wings twitched in surprise and soon lowered as a disgusting feeling of shame hit him.

It was an oddity for Sunday.

“Oh dear.” He murmured out making his way out to find you.

Synopsis: Aventurine and you dated but when he bets you in a game everything goes downhill.

AVENTURINE:

You catch your boyfriend, the renowned gambler betting as usual. You told him his hobby wasn't good. But as if that would stop him. Eventually you gave up and just let him do what he wanted despite worry filling you each time he pushed a chip forward with his iconic trademark smirk. 

“Babe..” You murmur out unease written all over your face.

“Oh! Hey darling~ this man just won’t seem to give up..even after I basically drained his savings. He’s penniless and now putting bets on things he doesn't even own!” Aventurine chuckled, holding his head amused.

“Maybe you should stop? It's getting intense, no.?” You worriedly whisper out.

“Oh no no no sweetheart. Once you go in. You can’t come out.”

“Huh?” You fluster.

“In gambling! What were you thinking of?” His smirk grew and became more toothly as you spluttered but it soon died down as Aventurine noticed that the man he was gambling with was slowly earning his chips back.

“You pull up a tough fight.” Aventurine spoke and you just knew he was going to pull an impulsive move. 

“Seems my chips have vanished. What a shame. Yet I do not intend to lose. I bet..my darling sweetheart right here.” 

You flinched at his words staring at him with a ‘did you really just say that’’ look making Aventurine smack back into reality.

“Oh..doll wait I didn’t mea-”

He got cut off by you walking off.

Ping! New message!

(AVENTURINE HAS SENT $1,000,000)

Synopsis: Dating Dr. Ratio was nice. Though he puts more time with other matters, neglecting you.

DR RATIO:

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend Veritas in a while because of him either studying, working, teaching others, or doing something other than hanging out with you. You're aware of his passion to join the Genius Society but he can work on that while hanging out with you too right?

You felt left out.

So you decided to make your way to his office excited to see him but also a bit nervous due to the thought of him brushing you away to work on something else.

You knocked.

“Come in.” You hear his British pompous voice making you crack a small smile not hearing it in a while.

“Veritas..” You open the door smiling but it broke as you saw him writing down something in his notebook not bothering to spare a glance at you.

“What is it? I’m quite busy.” He whispered out, still looking engrossed in his work.

“Do..you want to hang out? It’s been a while and I’ve been worried about you overworking yourself. And I miss seeing you.” You blush at your own words staring at him.

Veritas sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his temples.

“Dear how many times must I have to tell you that I am busy?” Annoyance is apparent in his tone making your eyes droop in defeat.

“Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to ask..since it's been such a long time.” Another sigh left Veritas as he ran a hand through his hair and finally made eye contact with you.

“I’m doing work at the moment so please leave me to it.” He picked up his pen again taking a glance at you but his eyes widened as he saw your vulnerable expression of defeat. You nodded softly and shut the door leaving.

Veritas stared at the door, his heart clenching in what he just did. Guilt poured onto it.

“My lord.” He murmured holding his now aching head.

[dumpywrites]

Locked! - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: Your friends locked you together for an hour so you can make up. 

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Slight angst, fluff, boyfriend Yoongi/established relationship

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: imagining the atmosphere of BTS in the soop helps with the mood! :)

“Jin! Get me out!!!”

“Sorry, I’m only following orders!” 

Two hours before this, you were in your bedroom, contemplating whether you should really go to this short trip your friends had been planning for weeks. The idea sounded great in your mind until the very last week. 

You had been fighting with your boyfriend for a week now. In the eight months of dating him, this was by far the longest you had fight with each other. Yoongi was mostly, if not every time, the most caring and chill person you knew. The thing was, he was so chill to the point he would let a random woman touch his face freely, caressing his cheek like he did not belong to you. 

Sure, he was tipsy, at least that was his first excuse. But he was sober enough to see that his girlfriend was standing not too far away from him. Adding more to the fuel, apparently they used to work together and you had never even heard any of that nonsense. 

That night you refuse both to go home with him and his offer to take you home. Your dramatic self almost called a cab if not for Jungkook dragging you to his car, basically volunteering to go home early just to safe the situation. 

Must be the ego of the man, because Yoongi did not reach out to you after that. While he apologized right at the venue, you wanted him to come and comfort you, talk just the two of you to sort things out. But you two were alike after all, because just like him, your ego forbid you to even just text him. In your defense, he was at fault. 

And that was how you ended up in Namjoon’s private villa, where you were supposed to have fun with your friends. The sour expression was not leaving you anytime soon, not when Yoongi was also there in the room with you. 

Jin suggested a dance off on his switch. Man had not shut up ever since he got the latest copy of Just Dance in his console. Obviously you were not having it, so instead you just stood behind, watching Namjoon and Jungkook dance off to Rain on Me by Lady Gaga. 

“Hey, uh, Y/N? Can you get my joycon strap? They’re my room…”

You got up lazily and walked to the said room, completely unaware of the fact someone was already sleeping inside. 

And that was how you got into this whole situation. 

“Jin!!!” 

You yelled again, but this time there was no more response came from the older guy, only the sound of the boys changing the song to play next. Clearly, they were not planning on getting both of you out very soon. 

The yelling and banging at door awoken the other person in the room. You both stare at each other for a few seconds, before you broke the eye contact. You moved quietly to sit down on a chair, facing your back to him. 

“They locked us up.” You said while pretending to browse your phone, busying yourself on nothing. 

The guy just straighten himself up on the bed, sitting down and grabbed his phone and started scrolling without answering to your words. 

“You’re not gonna say anything?” You snapped. You were not having his silent treatment. 

Yoongi put down his phone and sighed heavily. “What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever.” 

You groaned, standing up from your seat, you headed to the other bed just next to his. You laid down and put the blanket to cover yourself wholly. If he could just go to sleep and run away from his problems, then so could you. 

Maybe it was the tiredness from the trip, but eventually you fell asleep in just a few minutes. But the sleep only took you for a couple of minutes before the cool weather woke you up, made you shiver. You tossed and turned on the bed, hugging yourself close. 

“Are you cold?” 

You heard the voice said. The ego within you refused to react, so you stayed unmoved inside the bedcover. 

His voice called for your name again for the second time, but still, you refused to move. It was the hint of gentleness and loving in his tone, or maybe just the fact that you missed him so much, you just started tearing up silently. 

“Can you stop being childish?” 

You heard him again, but this time the source of his voice sounded very near, as if he was just right behind you. 

And you were right. He peeled the cover just until your waist, exposing yourself from underneath. You were still hugging yourself, folding your wrists together under your chin, eyes all covered. 

He sighed loudly, before your eyes jolted open at the feeling the other side of the bed dipped in with the weight of his body. 

“Don’t.” 

You stopped him. Clearly at this point he was aware of you crying but you did not care. All you knew was that you would instantly melt the moment he touch you and you didn’t want him to win you back over that easily. 

“At least let me cuddle you, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Just turn off the aircon.”

“The remote is in the living room. The one they have outside isn’t working.” 

You groaned. The universe really wasn’t on your side this time. 

“Ugh, whatever I’ll yell at them to get us out…”

“Okay, stop.” 

You looked at his direction and saw the frustration distinctly written on his face. 

“What do you want?!” You folded your arms at him. “You clearly didn’t want to talk with me before.” 

“I…” He found it hard to make out his words. “Look, I just—“

“Do you wanna break up?” 

It was an impulsive thing for you to say. You did not actually mean it of course. You loved him, you loved him a lot that you could barely handle not being close with him for a week. You could not imagine how you would handle an actual breakup with him. 

“Jesus, no.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Let’s talk this through…” 

You saw how he stretched his arm, like he was about to hold yours, but stopped in his tracks. 

“Who is she?” You suddenly asked.

Yoongi looked to your eyes and went silent. He seemed to be in deep thoughts. It took him a few moments before he opened his mouth. 

“Her name’s Yujin. We used to work together last year before she resigned. Also used to be somewhat close until I found out she only wanted to get close to me because of my position…” He sighed. “Heard it myself, it was her words not mine. I overheard her talking with someone at our company dinner.”

“I didn’t know…” You said, looking at him sympathetically. “Why haven’t I heard about any of this? Aren’t we friends way long before all of this?”

“I kinda don’t want you to know about how dumb I was.” He raised his eyebrows and huffed. 

“But that night…”

“I know.” He looked at you directly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. Everyone was staring and if I just push her or do anything rude it’d be much worse. As much as I despise her, I didn’t want to embarrass her in the public eye like that.” 

“But I don’t like seeing other people touch you like that…” You looked away as you felt your eyes getting glassy again. 

“Come here.” He took you by your wrist and you landed in his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He said as stroked your hair gently. 

“I miss you…” You said between sniffles. 

“I know, I guess I was angry because you just left and refused to listen to me.”

“I’m sorry too, I was just really jealous.” You hugged him tighter and you could hear him chuckle a little bit. 

“Are we good now?” 

He let go off you to take a good look at your face. His thumb swiped the remaining tears from your eyes and you broke into a smile, nodding at him. He smiled back, showing the gummy smile you loved so much. 

“What do we do with the cold now? Clearly they’re not getting us out until dinner…” He eyed you playfully. 

“You pervert!” You giggled. “But I’m interested…”

Suddenly the man went down from the bed and stood up. You looked at him in utter confusion. Just seconds later, he scooped you and lifted you up in his arms. You yelped loudly in surprise. 

You looked down to see him smiling with eyes full of lust—

“Yo… I think they’re fucking!!!” You heard Hoseok exclaimed. 

“Oh my gosh they are!” Jimin squealed giddily. 

“We still need their help to prepare dinner though…” You heard Namjoon protested in the background. 

“We can hear you, assholes!” Yoongi shouted back.

You heard a mixture of Jungkook and Hoseok’s laughter before the door clicked open. 

“Ayy!” Taehyung teased upon seeing you still in Yoongi’s arms. He had put you down but still had his arms around you. “Now that’s a sight we love to see!”

“Where the hell is Jin?!” You said, storming out the room. 

The oldest laughed at the sight of you looking pissed. “It was Namjoon’s idea!” He pointed at the other guy.

“I couldn’t stand the two of you fighting I like that.” He shrugged. “Plus, if you’re not fighting that means I get to sleep in my room alone cause Yoongi’s gonna sleep in yours.” 

“See? Everyone happy.” Jin laughed and clapped. “Now, go get the meat, we need to prepare for the barbecue!” 

You shook your head and smiled, seeing the silly guys. Yoongi walked from behind you and quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek before joining the chaos in front of you. 

You wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

Thank you for reading! 🍃

Prompt request: HERE

[sebscore]

heyy! Got a request! So all the drivers are in this fancy yacht in Monaco promoting F1/race. It's black tie event. Our fem! F1 driver comes in wearing gorgeous dress. And I just want everyone's reaction. I think it will be interesting since the fem! F1 driver usually is in F1 overalls/merch. Thank you!

MISS LITTLE BLACK DRESS

pairing: (most of the) f1 grid x reader (including some retired drivers)

warnings: mentions of the fia. a drunk nando at the end lol.

author's note: thank you so much for the request! this was genuinely so fun to write, i'm sorry that i didn't include the entire grid, but for some people i just genuinely didn't know how they would react or i didn't want the reactions to become repetitive. let me know what you thought of it! 💖

• • • • • • •

''Who's that?'' Lando asked Charles and Charlotte, his eyes not leaving the backside of the woman who had just entered the yacht. The question caught the attention of the other people seated on the long couch. George, Carmen, Alex, Lily, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos and Isa followed Lando's eyes.

It was quite hard to recognize her since her face wasn't visible as she talked to Toto, Mattia and Susie. ''Maybe someone from the FIA or something?'' George concluded, taking a wild guess.

''I love her dress, it's so cute.'' Lily whispered to Carmen, admiring the way it hugged the woman's body perfectly. ''I know, it's sexy, but also elegant in a way.''

''Lando, you should go up to her.'' Pierre encouraged him, taking in the way the Brit was eyeing her up and down.

Alex and Charles agreed. ''Yeah, make it a bit fun for us here! This event isn't gonna get any better than this.'' Alex said, the black-tie event was organized by the FIA and those guys weren't exactly known for their fun parties.

''You sure?'' Lando hesitated, the man was newly single and it had been a while since he had approached someone in that kind of a manner. The group cheered him on, wanting to see their friend take some action and move on from his previous relationship. ''What do I even say?''

The question was more directed at the women. ''Compliment her dress, Lando.'' Isa advised him, knowing she would appreciate it. He nodded at her words, repeating the words in his head.

''Yeah, okay- anything else?'' He asked them.

''Just let the conversation flow from there, it'll be okay.'' Carmen assured the younger guy, seeing how he started to get nervous.

Lando got up from his seat, breathing in and out. ''Here we go.'' He took a swig from his beer for some encouragement and made his way over while the rest of the group watched in anticipation.

''Hi, everyone.'' He greeted the team principals and Susie with a smile, before his eyes fell on the reason he was there. The smile was smacked from his face and was replaced by an expression of disbelief.

''Y/N?''

''Hey, Lando.'' She greeted him back, taking notice of his face that she had a hard time reading. ''What's up?''

The McLaren driver was stunned. The woman was Y/N, he had been checking out the woman he had known since the two of them were kids. In his defense, a long time had passed when he last saw her in anything that wasn't oversized or racing related.

''Nothing, just, uh, wanted to come and say hi,'' he managed to stutter out, ''the rest of us are sitting here, if you'd like to join us.'' He motioned towards the entire group that sat with open mouths as Y/N turned around. They quickly covered their surprise up and waved at her, sending her uneasy smiles.

The unaware driver smiled back at them. ''Yeah, I'll join you guys in a minute.'' She wrapped up the conversation with him, growing uncomfortable with Lando's unsubtle stare.

''Great, see you all later.''

Lando quickly bid them goodbye and was ready to crawl into a hole, feeling humiliated and confused all at the same time. He sat back down on his original spot, avoiding eye-contact with everyone.

''That's Y/N? You were gonna flirt with Y/N.'' Carlos stated in disbelief himself, that he hadn't recognized her before. ''That's crazy.''

''I've never seen her like that, she looks good!'' Charlotte was impressed the way the woman could pull off her duality like that, she looked completely different than she did when Charlotte ran into her on the paddock.

The rest of the girls agreed. ''I'm gonna ask her where she got that dress from, I need that in my closet.'' Lily couldn't stop thinking about the little black dress the woman was wearing.

Meanwhile, the boys watched Lando in amusement as he went through all the five stages of grief. ''Lando, man… I'm sorry, I guess.'' Pierre chuckled, covering his huge grin with his hand.

''Yeah, better luck next time.'' Alex said, trying to not burst out laughing at the situation.

Yuki just observed everyone in confusion, not understanding the big fuss they were making about this. ''Lando, you like Y/N?'' The Japanese man had to start paying more attention to the conversation instead of munching on all the appetizers that were spread out on the table in front of them.

''No, Yuki! I didn't know it was her.'' He exclaimed, getting defensive about the entire thing.

The Alpha Tauri driver simply nodded, not caring much either way.

''I think you guys would be cute, a childhood friends to lovers kinda thing.'' Lily teased, trying to make him feel better about it.

Well, she failed. ''No! She's like- Ugh, just no!'' Lando didn't even want to think about it, him and Y/N was just… no.

''You're getting weirdly defensive about this, Lando.'' Charles teasingly noted.

''And you DNF'd this weekend, we all have our problems.''

''Is that Y/N? Oh, look at her.'' The woman caught the eyes of Sebastian, Lewis, Jenson, Mark and Vallterri. She must have sensed their eyes on her as she turned around and made her way over to them, a big smile on her face.

They made some space so she could sit in-between Seb and Jenson. ''We were starting to wonder where you were, our party animal.'' Jenson teased her. The female driver was quite known for never passing the oppurtunity to celebrate something.

''I've been here for a while actually, but Rosberg caught me when I was ordering something at the bar and well- you know when Nico starts talking.'' She explained her absence, recalling the man going on about whatever Nico Rosberg goes on about.

The five men chuckled, knowing how the man could get. ''That Britney, never gets old.''

''I almost didn't recognize you without the usual racing suit.'' Lewis noted, he had to take several looks before being sure that it was in fact her.

Y/N glanced down at her dress. ''Yeah, I was actually gonna go to a club with my friends, but then my team told me this was kinda mandatory, so that sucked.''

''I think we all would rather be at a club right now.'' Mark said, sighing loudly. A party on a yacht was really hard to make boring, but the FIA had obviously done their best to just do that.

''I just came for the free alcohol.'' Vallterri spoke up for the first time, having everyone agree with him.

The conversation split up from there. Jenson and Mark teasing each other about things they had said on live air, and the former Mercedes teammates catching up with each other.

That left Y/N and Seb, the latter nudging her shoulder. ''You look really pretty, Y/N.'' She was touched by the genuineness in his voice. ''Thanks, Seb.''

''Hey, Y/N.'' She moved around and saw a pretty drunk Fernando approaching them. ''Your dress is a bop or whatever you call it.''

''No, Nando… that's not- oh whatever, thank you!''

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Embarassing

Requested: yes

Prompt: 3) "His smile gives me butterflies"

Warnings: alcohol maybe idk

Y/n, the brilliant Red Bull strategist, reveled in the success of another 1-2 finish for the team. The victory celebration echoed through the night, and with each cheer, Y/n's heart raced. As the party reached its peak, she found herself drowning her nerves in a bit too much alcohol. In the dimly lit corner of the party, Y/n sat alone, contemplating the stars above. Max Verstappen, unaware of her intoxicated state, noticed her isolation and decided to check on her. "Hey, everything alright?" Max inquired, concern etched on his face as he sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her to show his support.

"I'm just here, having a moment. You know, thinking about someone." Max, intrigued yet puzzled, sat beside her. "Someone special, huh?" Y/n nodded, a dreamy expression settling on her face. "You won't believe it. I'm head over heels in love with Max Verstappen! Can you imagine? His smile gives me butterflies, and when he races, it's like my heart is on the track with him." Max, amused, played along. "You think so?" She nodded. "And his determination, Max never gives up. It's inspiring. Also, that Dutch accent is-" She paused lifting her glass to her lips. "It's something else."

Max couldn't hold back his laughter. "You seem to know him quite well." Y/n nodded, blissfully unaware. "Oh, absolutely! I have have come up up his strategy like all the time. I wish I could tell him how much I love him." Max, enjoying the banter, decided to play along. "Well, maybe you should." Max looked at her with admiration. She was seen as somewhat of a recluse at Red Bull. Yes, she was lovely but she was serious about her job and worked so hard to prove she was serious, that Max and many other team members were unaware she was even capable of being able to love someone. "I will! Next time I see him."

"Shouldn't be too hard. You're in a huge nightclub with him." Y/n nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and the way he talks about racing, it's so passionate. I could listen to him talk about it all day." Y/n sighed, blissfully unaware that she was talking to the very person she was gushing about. Max chuckled, enjoying the unexpected revelation. "Well, I'm flattered. Thanks for the compliment."

"Wait, what?" She turned. Max smiled and put his hand out. "Max Verstappen." He said teasingly. Y/n's eyes widened, realization hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. "Wait, what? Oh my- Max, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't know it was you." Max laughed, genuinely appreciating her honesty. "No worries. It's flattering. Let me walk you back to the party." As they stood up, Y/n, suddenly shy, looked down. "I should probably go. I've embarrassed myself enough." Before Max could even say a word, off she went stumbling away. Max followed, but in the crowded venue, he lost sight of her. The party continued, but Max couldn't shake off the amusing encounter and the even more amusing strategist

The next day in the buzzing Red Bull factory, Y/n immersed herself in her work, determined to focus on strategy and leave the embarrassing incident behind. As she studied data and simulations, Max casually strolled through the facility, inspecting the ongoing progress. He eventually found his way to Y/n's desk, where she was engrossed in her tasks. Max leaned against the edge of the desk, smirking, "Hello, darling."

Y/n's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I, uh, I think I may have said some things at the party." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Max, still amused as he was the night before grinned. "Oh, you mean the Max Verstappen love fest?" Y/n cringed. "Yeah, that. Sorry about that." She hid her head in her hands as Max simply laughed. He interrupted with a playful grin, "No need to apologize. I thought it was cute, actually. If you ever want to show that side of you more often, feel free."

Y/n blinked in surprise, and Max reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He jotted down his number and slid it across her desk, winking mischievously. "In case you need someone to talk to about your Max Verstappen crush." Flustered but intrigued, Y/n managed a shy smile. "Thanks, Max. I'll... keep that in mind." Max nodded, giving her a knowing look, and continued his stroll through the factory. Y/n couldn't help but replay the interaction in her mind, a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

[spideyhexx]

where you're not Billy's (yet) and get jealous <3 mdni

Billy wasn't yours. You knew that. It helped to remind yourself that you weren't his either. You could easily find another mind to keep your company, but you could never get yourself to even try. Instead those nights, you always returned to Billy, also in his lonesome, with no other woman at his side because he would always, already be looking at you.

That's how most nights would go. You would find one another like there was a string attaching you two and you'd fall into your bed, his bed, the grass, the side of a building, honestly anywhere he can get you quick enough.

Part of you always wanted to bite the bullet. Billy's made it clear he would pursue you more than just your late-night rendezvouses but you knew who he was. The type of life he leads and you're reluctant to let that bleed into your life. Fun little relations with him did not carry the weight his love would.

It was unspoken, but Billy respected it, he took what you gave him and that was better than nothing.

So in truth, you should not have had such a visceral reaction to seeing him chat with another woman one night at the saloon. You went there specifically to seek him out, not having seen him the past week made you antsy, but the moment you stepped in, your eyes found him, leaning close to a woman who would lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His smile was easy, his demeanor relaxed, the flirty kind you felt used to.

Jealousy was always a problem for you, but it's never struck you this hard. Never has it hurt like it is as you watch them together.

Against your better judgment, you left immediately, and a restless sleep made you decide to ignore the cowboy.

Billy feels the cold shoulder the very first day. He sees you in the morning just as he rides into town, "Hey, doll, wait up," he says, getting off of his horse and tying it up in a quick manner to catch up to you, but he notices you didn't stop.

He jogs over, a hand to your arm, his big, warm hand to your arm, "Doll, you hearin' good?" He chuckles a little but you don't look amused so he drops it.

"I'm busy, Billy," is all you say to him, even though it pains you to keep your emotions inside, and you walk, quicker, away.

Billy's almost too stunned to speak before he calls after you, "Hey, hey, hey, slow down I just wanted-"

"I said I'm busy," you repeat, your head turning to lock with his gaze. The last thing you catch is his shoulders slumping before you turn forward again.

The entire week Billy tries to talk to you, only to get waved off or completely ignored until he just accepts it and leaves you be. You wonder if it's better to keep him at this distance, this way you didn't fall more for him every night you spent naked with him. But the pain in ignoring him was a devil.

Especially after you hear word that he got injured. Nothing major. He was in some scuffle and all you heard was that he actually got a little beat up from it this time around compared to other times he's fought.

It made you forget your pact to ignore him, knowing how often you were the one who cleaned him up. And Billy didn't seek you out this time. Maybe you fucked up.

You try the saloon, but he's not there. Who is there though, is his friend Charlie. You're barely even thinking through your actions as you walk up to him, "Charlie?"

He turns to face you, with a small smile after realizing it's you, "What's going on?"

"Where's Billy?" You don't beat around the bush with it and you try not to sound so desperate but you're sure you do.

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Maybe go ask George over there," Charlie nods his head at the other man and you nod, turning your mission elsewhere.

You ask the same question to George, who's also unaware of where Billy is, citing he was back at the camp they've set up a bit away from town, but he's not sure if Billy is currently there.

It feels like a complete lost cause. Maybe even feels stupider that you've asked. Without much else to do and asking around the people you knew to be friends with Billy with no luck, you make your way to a spot Billy and you would typically go to.

In the fields, a small walk from town, where you'd sit under one of the bigger trees and talk. Or fuck. Either or.

A small sliver of hope pokes at your chest that he's there, but he isn't. You let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the tree.

You're not sure how much time passes until the sudden sound of footsteps jolts you to your feet. Your eyes lock with Billy, his brow is furrowed, and he's almost storming towards you. It makes your chest ache with relief that he's here. It makes your chest ache with anxiety over his anger. It makes your chest ache with desire because boy was he hot when he was angry.

When he gets closer, you see the cut on his lip and the worry overtakes your emotions. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your jaw. His touch is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Billy tilts your head up, leaving you no room to look away from him.

His words are rushed, "You were lookin' for me? You were lookin' for me, huh?" A scoff leaves his lips after he speaks. His voice is gruff, almost demanding an answer than just curiosity. You swallow your desire.

"Well. Yeah, I was, I heard you got hurt and-"

He moves in closer, close enough that your back leans against the tree and you can smell him. The slight scent of whiskey, campfire and just him was enough to get you dizzy. It's dark, but you can see the tick in his jaw and the intake of breath he gets.

"Here I am," he says, taking his hand off your jaw and gesturing to himself, "What do you want?" There's a snap to his words and you know he's angry about your avoidance of him.

"I was trying to say I heard you got hurt and I wanted to...make sure you were okay," you get your words out slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Right. So it took me gettin' hurt for you to find me?" There's pain in his tone when he says it and it makes you shake your head.

"Billy-"

"Doll, what did I do? We were fine and then suddenly you were actin' like I fucked up bad. I can't recall anythin' I could've done to deserve that from you," he says, crowding your space till the brim of his hat bumps into your head. Billy seems to get annoyed with it so he haphazardly takes it off dropping it to the ground at your feet.

"I saw you with that...woman or whatever...you...," You take a deep breath to keep yourself in check before you start speaking again, "I went to the saloon to find you and you were all up close with some girl and I just..."

When you let yourself trail off, you glance up at him and see the anger still full in his eyes.

"I wasn't...that was Manuela. Charlie's wife, doll. Can promise you, I am not gettin' sweet with her," Billy says, his brow still furrowed. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you jumped to conclusions, but could you help it? Women flocked to Billy easily. And he wasn't yours, you tell yourself again. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

"I told you I wanted you, you know?"

"I know, but-"

"I know. But I told you. And now you're jealous. You want me too?"

Billy is almost pleading with you to just say it. He knows it. But he's in desperate need of you to finally let it out. You're quiet, your head mulling it over in a frantic manner as he stares right into your soul.

He scoffs, "Darlin' stop thinkin' so hard. 've told you before. All you gotta do is tell me and I am all yours." It feels like you can't speak, your tongue is missing completely from your mouth. Billy's frustration only seems to increase as he rolls his eyes at your silence and his jaw clenches again.

His hands move to your hips, a firm grip, as he lets out a harsh breath, "What do I gotta do? Do I have to fuck it outta you?"

Your cheeks burn at that and he hears the hitch in your breath, "Billy, I-"

"That is it, huh?" He's mocking, finding humor in how heated you get over his words, his thumbs rubbing your hips over your dress. "Been missin' me these days? Got no one to look after you? Just me."

You nod, your head lurching forward enough to brush your nose to his and it almost makes him groan. "You're pissin' me off," he mumbles, like a warning, his lips almost inching to kiss yours, but he restrains himself.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, your breath lingering on him as your hands finally move to touch him, right against his chest. You swallow hard. "Don't know if I've ever felt this much," is what you're able to get out through your laboring breath. Billy takes that as enough, for now, pressing his lips hard to yours.

It's a bruising kiss. His lip was cut and he was fighting a wince, but he did not give a fuck about the pain right now. Billy was starved without you and all he can think about is taking. He pushes you back until you're more against the tree, the bark uncomfortable but that's the least of your worries. His hands pull at your hips to bring your body flush with his, slotting his leg between yours.

His one hand moves to cradle your face, mumbling to your lips, "still pissed off," and he licks his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging under your chin to tilt your head up more.

"Good," you mutter back to him before happily opening your mouth to him, tugging on the handkerchief at his neck to pull him as close as he can be.

He hums at your words, "Oh? You like me mad or somethin' doll?" Billy's hand at your hip holds you tighter, "is that why you're doin' this to me?"

You don't answer, your lips trailing along his jaw and to his neck. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling his head back a little to expose more of his neck, enough to find his spot that you found. That he didn't even know about until he slept with you.

As you suck at the spot, biting the skin enough to leave the start of a mark, Billy refrains from moaning, but you hear him mumble, "fuck's sake," before he's pulling back from you and taking his belt off.

"Ground?" He takes his belt off so easily it distracts you, but you nod.

"Ground," you reply, moving yourself to the grass. Billy doesn't waste a second, taking his jacket off and laying it out so you can sit on it.

He nudges you to lay back and gets on you so quick, it makes your breath run fast. "Billy," your voice is breathy, his head burying into your neck, leaving surprisingly soft kisses as he fumbles to push his pants down.

You help the best you can, then swat his hand away to fish his cock from his underwear yourself. Billy lets out a low groan when he feels your hand wrap around him. You hum, stroking the length of him once, then twice before taking him out.

"Tell me you missed this or I think I'll actually go crazy, doll," he mutters, his kisses finding your jaw.

"Now I wanna see you go crazy," you joke under your breath, but Billy isn't having any of that.

"Fuckin'...fine. That's what you want?" His hands are under your dress in an instant, and find your undergarments, the thin linen being harshly ripped from your body.

"Billy! Did you actually rip them, I-"

"Darlin' please be fuckin' quiet," he rasps, and you pull hard on his hair in his response. He laughs.

"Missed you. Pissed at you. But still want you just as fuckin' much," he whispers, giving your cheek a kiss as he hikes your legs up around him, his hips slotting to yours.

Billy's hand finds himself, guiding his dick to rub at your clit, both of you letting out shaky sighs at the feeling. His nose smushes to your cheek, eyes stuck on you to watch you react to him.

"Oh, honey," he whispers as his tip rubs through your folds, feeling just how slick you are. The head of his cock catches at your entrance and you both moan in unison again. Billy slowly pushes the tip into you, groaning over it and helping you wrap your legs tighter to him.

"There you go. Still take it good, hm?" He doesn't let you even try to answer him as he thrusts the rest of himself into you, his knees shifting in the grass to adjust his position. Billy grips your hips hard, thumbs pressing to the underside of your thighs as he begins fuck himself into you.

A moan rattles through you, your head pushing back against the ground at his immediate quick pace. You grasp at his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his hair so you can pull it whenever he fucking quips at you.

Billy grunts, his head down and teeth nipping at your jaw, "You actually listened to me. Actually stayin' quiet besides those pretty moans. Not even talkin' back," he chuckles at it and then again when you tug his hair like he thought you would.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, leaving an affectionate kiss on your jaw. For a moment, Billy buries his cock as deep as it can be inside of you, holding still to feel you tighten around him. "That's it...you missed that?"

You nod, your words not coming, but he grips your jaw, "you can speak," he says, his hips snapping to yours, just as desperate as his kisses were before.

"I did miss it, Billy....so, so, so much."

That spurs him on as he opens your mouth with a push of his fingers at your cheeks, your eyes dazed and tongue sticking out a little like routine. Billy slows his thrusts as he spits down onto your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, his lips and tongue are finding yours, a strangled moan leaving him and melting back into you. Billy's one hand still at your hip moves under you to wrap around, giving your body a slight angle as he fucks harder, his rhythm starting to break.

His kiss is sloppy, as is yours back, tongues a mess of massaging to one another, his teeth biting to your lip, noises tumbling from you both. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his nose to your cheek, "please tell me you didn't fuck someone else while you were angry at me," he suddenly says, his eyes closed like he's anticipating the worse.

"I didn't," you whisper back to him, "I promise you," you assure him again, your hand rubbing through his hair.

"I didn't touch anyone," he tells you, "nothing," he pauses, giving your cheek the lightest kiss as he changes his movements, slowing down, sliding his cock out of you slowly, but pushing back in hard, his hand moving from your jaw to slip between your legs and thumb at your clit, "Just tell me."

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his thumb, your hips bucking up, which only makes him want to fuck you faster again, but he holds back. You know what he means the moment he says to tell him and you turn your head head to nose back at him.

"I want you," you breathe out and you feel him let out a breath, his lips tenderly kissing your nose.

"Can I be yours then?" He slows even more, which makes you whine. Your eyes lock to his, his face strewn with hope and deep desire, you can feel the twitch of his cock and see the flutter of his eyes.

"Yes," you whisper to him, giving him a small smile as you ruffle your handing his hair, "then I'm yours?"

He groans at your answer and question, and his hips rock faster again, needy and full of so much want, "yes, doll, you're mine," he rasps out, "and you're gonna come just for me, yeah? I know you will, Bet you wanted me to come for you all week, I'll give you it," he gets out his words quick, your fingers digging into his hair and his shoulder.

"Billy....fuck...f-faster."

He chuckles, "Jesus, doll," he gives you a crooked smile, but obliges, rubbing your clit in tight fast circles as he ruts into you, his forehead pressing to yours.

A heat overcomes you as your orgasm washes over you, Billy smiling as he watches it overtake you. The way your mouth parts and your moan borderlines a whine, the arch of your hips to his, and the spasm of your cunt against him.

He fucks into you maybe three more times before he's pulling out of you, letting out an almost guttural moan, spilling on your thigh, the slight friction of the tip against your thigh is enough to get him hard all over again, but Billy pushes those thoughts aside to move his hands back to your face and kiss you passionately through your heavy breaths.

"Still a little pissed," he mumbles and you nudge your knee into his.

"Ow," he grins into the kiss, a bigger flush coming to his face when you start laughing.

[lnfours]

Helloooo prompt (maybe reverse) "i pictured you with other girls in love... then threw up on the street." With Lando x reader (she is a legal expert for McLaren) having a fight because he underestimate her job. So during a social event, after seeing her smiling and talking with Charles about her work activities, he gets jealous and afraid of losing her.

god anon, thanks for killing me! tom’s-gf has been found dead!!

this also got so long omg i’m sorry

10k celebration

lando felt sick. physically ill, almost like he was going to throw up.

“you okay, mate?” oscar asked his teammate and friend, worry etching his face. lando was unaware of his paleness, his eyes visibly sad as he looked over towards where you were standing with charles.

he had his arm wrapped around your waist, head leaning down towards your face so he could hear what you were talking to him about. you had a bright smile on your face and he could tell you said something funny with the way his friend’s eyes squeezed shut, both of your giggles almost loud enough to be heard over the noise.

“lando?”

his attention flipped back to the aussie next to him, shaking his head and furrowing his eyebrows as he desperately tried to fight off the nauseating thoughts of you and his friend that snuck into his head. anxiety was a fucking bitch.

“yeah, i’m good. why?”

“you look pale,” oscar stated, “and you keep looking at y/n and charles with this weird look in your eyes, almost like you’re sad.”

lando shook his head, swallowing the sip of his drink, “nah, i’m good, mate,”

oscar quirked an eyebrow, “did something happen between the two of you?”

lando immediately was transported back to the hotel mentally, where a little over an hour ago the two of you had it out. he was frustrated, and he took it out on you, which he shouldn’t have done. and one thing led to another…

“seriously, lando, i don’t fucking tell you how to drive the car! why’re you trying to tell me how to do my job?!”

“i’m just saying that maybe you should try getting behind the wheel of a literal rocket before you complain about your job to me.”

he didn’t mean to sound like he was underestimating you or your job, he knew you worked hard for the company. he knew how many late nights you had pulled at the office to get extra work done and to stay ahead of things. he wasn’t entirely sure why he said what he said, but now he was really wishing time travel was real so he could go back and undo it.

lando’s silence was an answer, “mate, just go talk to her. i’m sure she’s over it by now, whatever it is. you know her, she doesn’t stay angry for long.”

oscar was right. you got over things quickly, only really needing twenty minutes before you moved onto the next thing. but right now, the anxiety was eating at him as he watched charles lean in closer to you for a photo. he just had this overwhelming feeling that you hated him and that this was it. it was the end of the road for the two of you.

oscar grabbed the glass from his teammate before shoving him forward, “my god, go!”

lando compiled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he concentrated on not letting his legs give out as he walked towards you two. your eyes landed on the worried looking brit, your eyebrows furrowing. your confused look caused charles to turn around.

“hey, mate,” charles said, “you’ve gotta hear about this story y/n just told me-“

“actually,” lando cleared his throat, “i was wondering if i could borrow her. i’ve got to talk to her,”

he sucked in a nervous breath as you responded, “yeah,” you grabbed your purse off of the bar behind you, looking over at the man next to you, “i’ll be right back.”

you led lando through the groups of people, the fresh air filling lando’s lungs as he desperately tried to feel better. you stood in front of him, searching his eyes.

“you look pale,” you frowned, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, “you feeling okay?”

his heart was going a mile a minute, his hand grabbing yours. your eyes met his in silent question, “i’m sorry.”

your expression softened, “lando-“

“no,” he said softly, “i’m sorry. i know how hard you work, and i had no right to yell at you or tell you that your job isn’t hard. i could never do the things that you do. you’re absolutely incredible and i’m sorry,”

you let him ramble on, waiting for the right time to speak, “you never complain and it was dick move for me to yell, just please…”

he felt like he couldn’t breathe. you frowned, knowing what was going through his mind all too well. a small tear dropped from his eyelashes and your heart shattered in your chest, “lando,”

he licked his lips, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. his shoulders shook and you reached out to him as he let out a quiet sob. you wiped the tears away from his cheeks before wrapping your arms around his neck. he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, immediately clinging to you as he buried his head into your hair.

you rubbed his back, “it’s okay. i promise, it’s okay,”

he sniffled softly, “you’re just the best thing to ever happen to me, and i don’t want to lose you over a stupid argument. i’m sorry. so so sorry,”

you pulled away, meeting his glossy eyes and giving him a soft smile as you wiped away the fallen tears, “it’s gonna take a lot more than a silly argument to push me away.”

he let out a soft chuckle and you smiled, “there’s that smile.”

he rolled his eyes playfully, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, mumbling a soft, “shut up,”

you reached up and planted a kiss on his lips. his mumbling against yours when he pulled away to breathe, “i love you.”

“i love you more, handsome.”

[ghost-bxrd]

So with Fae!Dick, we all know that Bruce is just… not gonna say anything bc of his own mental health, but do you think the other batkids notice anything once they come along?

On one hand, I think someone would have to notice. If not Jason, then Tim, Steph, Barbara, or Damian bc, well, they’re BATS. They literally have been trained to notice things.

On the other hand, though, I think it would be HILARIOUS if they just attributed Dick’s Fae nature to him just being weird. Like, completely unaware he isn’t human. Maybe not entirely realistic but I think it leaves for some interesting comedic moments 😅

Honestly at one point I think it all devolves into plausible deniability. 😭😂

Jason is the first to notice something amiss, obviously. But he joins Bruce in pretending it‘s just Dick‘s general weirdness. After all, as long as the dog just howls once in a while it’s not necessarily a wolf, right? And Dick, after the initial hang up and trying to kill him a little, is sweet as a summer‘s day to him and viciously protective to boot. Galas and all the rich people there that used to treat Jason like a circus animal aren’t a problem anymore because Dick always swoops in like a bat out of hell and distracts the creepy old ladies with a charming smile until they walk away with vacant eyes. It‘s all pretty funny. And very weird. But hey, Jason gets a laugh out of it and that secretive little grin from Dick so whatever.

Tim I headcanon has Dick all figured out within a month of officially meeting him (the opposite of this would be Tim never figuring it out which is also kinda funny and just attributing it to his circus past or something) and is veeery cautious about interacting with Dick for a time. It makes Dick kind of sad and Tim can only withstand the puppy eyes so long until he caves.

Steph just kinda shrugs and accepts Dick‘s strangeness at face value. It ain’t hurting her so why should she bother? Dick is cool. She likes Dick. End of story, thank you and good day. And yeah, fine, some of his habits are downright weird and everything but who is she to judge? And he‘s always down to cause mischief with her which is?? Super cool???? Even the more devious pranks she can bribe him into joining by handing him a jar of fresh honey or hand picked fruit!! Anybody trying to say shit about Dick lands them on her hit list, period.

Cass is Cass. Nobody can fool her. She may not know what Dick is, but she‘s painfully aware he‘s other. Most wildlife treats him like bees would their queen, there‘s always the scent of pines and rain following him. Dick‘s body language says ‘playful-content-happy’ but his eyes say ‘dark-dangerous-predator’. It’s all very conflicting; a study of contradictions. Cass learns to go by what his body language says and quickly finds a kindred spirit in Dick, who somehow always seems to know exactly what she tries to express but has trouble translating into words.

I headcanon Damian grew up with folklore so while his first theory may not be “fae” he definitely has Dick down as something other than human. Which means he must be powerful. Which means Damian must keep himself in Dick’s good graces in the hopes of making the creature teach him how to be powerful in turn. And, well, the kid grew up with a grandad that regularly takes dips in a magical swimming pool. I don’t think there’s much that can genuinely shock him lol.

Duke is… well, he’s the sensible one so of course he’s the first one to actually ask questions. And then proceeds to go nearly insane because??? Nobody seems to?? Care???? That Dick just rotated his head a full 360°???? Or that the manor sure af isn’t supposed to??? Randomly add hallways???? Or that there’s a whole ass SWAMP that appeared in the basement overnight???? Or a door that leads straight into the forest?????? Duke very nearly nopes the hell out because that’s too much even for him. But finally, finally someone takes pity on him (I headcanon it’s Cass) and she doesn’t explain anything per se, she just kind of… shows Duke. Shows him around the manor, introduces him to twisting halls and strange rooms, takes him to where Dick is lounging with the rest of the family, purring like a content cat. And Duke still doesn’t understand, not completely, but Dick smiles at him with too many, too sharp teeth and tugs him into the huge cuddle pile and?? Are those feathers on his neck?? No, he must have imagined it. Anyway, Duke thinks he can handle this… strangeness, if it scores him a family like this. It’s Gotham, right? Weirder things happen here on the daily.

Omg this turned into a whole ass essay I’m so sorry 😰😅😭✨

[jtl-fics]

In honor of April Fools day I will talk a bit about an AU with my favorite fool - (Redacted) Smith that I will probably never write fully but have thought about a bunch of scenes for.

I call it 2 Fluent Freshmen.

Due to a clerical error at both the school and during the local government's push to digitize their documents Smith is noted down as being 2 years older than he actually is and (perhaps a clerical error or maybe no teacher can say if they've had him in class or not) Smith also has enough credits to graduate. Gran has passed away early and there's nothing for him in Washington other than more anxiety.

Wymack & Dan come to Smith when he is 16 and Smith takes the chance to escape from his family IMMEDIATELY. Sure the Foxes are the worst team and sure there's some drama going on with Kevin Day having joined them after his injury but a full ride scholarship is a full ride scholarship!

Smith is rooming with 2 upperclassmen and his only other fellow freshman - Neil Josten. He is not hiding the fact that he can speak Russian, he is hiding the fact that he is 16. Smith ends up pretty close to Seth and Allison due to sharing a dorm / position respectively and just doing his best not to get to close to crazy Andrew Minyard. He does get a bit close with Neil but it's not something he's trying to do.

He's trying to keep his head down and get through the year.

It's a little hard when he is sat on the couch with the Kathy Ferdinand show. It's a lot harder when Riko Moriyama shows up and doesn't realize he's there and just...sits in Smith's lap?? Smith remains as blank faced as ever and what the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT HE FUCKED UP?

Do you know how hard it is to intimidate someone when you're sitting in the lap of some dude? The answer is VERY. Kevin can't take him seriously at all, especially after Smith made a comment that Riko's ass was bony.

Riko goes after them the same but Smith doesn't really get that his anger is at Kevin. "Hey, I'm sorry I called your butt bony on national television. That was rude of me. You should try some squats though." and like what the fuck is Riko supposed to say in the face of some dude genuinely apologizing to him.

It buys enough time that no one is grabbed or slammed.

Seth and Allison drag him out to the bar that night and after a few minutes sitting with Allison Smith realizes that he actually does have to pee and oh god someone's trying to assault Seth! Smith calls upon the powers of Gracie Hart and Seth has a black eye and a concussion but he graduates.

Neil wants Smith to come with him to the Thanksgiving because Neil has latched on a bit. Smith ends up going and also ends up going upstairs to go to the bathroom because oh god he cannot handle Nicky's parents hearing him take an anxiety shit. He's making his way to the end of the hall and sees a penny on the ground so he bends over to grab it.

And Drake Spears is unbalanced from missing his swing and falls right out the open window to the ground below where he breaks his neck. Naturally, Andrew is watching this scene unfold from the stairs and just starts to laugh his ass off. Smith turns around after flipping the penny over (it was tails side up and therefore not lucky) unaware of what has happened.

Smith asks if Andrew wants to use the bathroom. Andrew insists that Smith goes on ahead. The Hemmicks keep asking if they saw anyone upstairs and Smith has no idea what they're talking about, Andrew does but plays dumb out of spite. A day later it's wild that Nicky's parents got arrested. Like they seemed so normal, how did they kill someone and dump him in the side garden??

The Winter Banquet happens and well...it's dark. It's dark and Neil has brown hair and brown eyes and Smith has brown hair and brown eyes. Riko is not the best at judging heights so he calls Smith to threaten him and tell him that he's joining the Ravens for a Winter Break training camp. Jean is doing the most anyone has ever done not to laugh right now.

Riko only realizes his mistake when he's finished threatening Smith with his father and Smith ruins it. Smith is elated to have somewhere to stay over winter break. He can't mention he has nowhere to go so he'd thought he'd spend the break homeless. Now here comes Riko Moriyama inviting him to a camp where room and board will be provided?

What a nice guy. To thank him Smith compliments the gains he's noticed on Riko's ass. "The squats are really helping you, or are you doing something else?" he asks.

What the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT THAT HE FUCKED UP? Tell Smith that he's been doing squats and leg lifts before asking that he hand the tickets back and go get Neil???

Fuck that.

He'll just turn Smith against the Foxes and-

Well Riko kept talking about Smith's dead dad and so Smith may have a slight misunderstanding about the full scope of this training camp. He may think that there is some sort of seance element to it at this point and he's kind of excited at the idea of talking to his dad. "I've never spoken to a dead man before, this will be fun." and it's delivered flatly with no expression.

Riko starts to wonder if maybe Smith is the Butcher's son? Did the Butcher have two sons? He's sweating all the sudden.

It does not help that Smith brings a Ouija board to camp or that his dad was a legit Butcher before he died so Riko's tentative questioning only sends him further into an anxious mess about if Nathan had twins and Riko, due to being kept away from the family business, might just not be aware of it?

Smith has a nice Christmas break.

The last scene I've got dinging around in the noggin is in Binghamton. Smith has been left behind at many a stadium at this point. There's a solid and fast rule.

Neil cannot get on the bus without Smith. They are buddies. This is the buddy system. So when the riot starts and Neil seems to be getting pulled away in the crowd?

Well Smith grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bus, "Buddy system."

The bus starts and they're on their way shortly after. Neil's an anxious wreck but that next morning he wakes up to the news that the Butcher of Baltimore died in an FBI raid the night before as well as his men.

Smith watches the news with Neil, "Wow, that's scary." as he sips some orange juice.

[gojos-fr-bae]

Surprise!

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Cursing

Gojo Family AU

How is all of the above the same as the last post wth

Satoru gazed at you from across the dinner table as you poked at your meal. Your favorite food which you always asked him to bring for you, the holy grail, and you hadn’t even had a single bite. To say he was bewildered was an understatement. Your husband had watched you inhale kilos of the stuff and now you were looking at it as if it was the most disgusting substance on the planet. And it wasn’t even the first time.

Throughout the entire month, Gojo had noticed small differences in your behavior. You stopped drinking, slept more and have been more irritable.You’ve been leaving the house late in the day and staying out for hours. Worst of all, your behavior towards him also changed, and for the worst. You stopped greeting him at the door whenever he got home. You stopped laughing at his jokes, stopped taking showers with him, and it was starting to worry him.

“Sweets, are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I already told you I’m fine so can you just let it go.”

“If you’re fine then what’s going on with you, you aren’t even eating”

“Because I’m not hungry, what, am I not allowed to have an appetite?”

You stood up from the table and began rushing out of the room but you couldn’t make it out before he grabbed your hand and turned you to face him, worry slowly beginning to morph into anger and frustration.

“Y/N please, stop pushing me out and talk to me.”

“About what?! Talk to you about fucking what!”

“I don’t know? Maybe about you’ve been ignoring me, acting weir-”

You didn’t hear the rest of his tangent as an insistent ringing impaired your hearing.The room began spinning and black spots began to cloud your vision. Your head was pounding as you lost your footing along with consciousness, your husband catching you before you made contact with the ground.

“Hey, hey Y/N! No no no, please wake up” He picked you up and rushed you to the hospital as he panicked, praying to all that is good that you would be ok.

~

“Mr. Gojo?” The doctor called Satoru into his office, showed him to the seat across his desk and began to evaluate him on what was going on with you.

“Well other than what we went over with her dieting, there is nothing particularly wrong with her, as a matter of fact, it’s very normal considering her current condition.”

“Wait- what do you mean her current condition?”

“Well…you know” the doctor said, a smile fading at the confused look draped on Gojo’s face.

“Wait, are you really unaware?”

“Unaware of what?!”

“Oh- I’m sorry sir but if your wife hasn’t informed you about the current situation then it is really not my place to disclose that information to yo-”

“What do you mean it's not your place! You’re a doctor and she’s my wife. I have every right to know what’s going on!!” Gojo’s voice was raised as he had finally run out of patience. So there was something going on with you and you were hiding it from him.

“Well sir, it is usually quite a touchy subject for couples and when I asked your wife about it she seemed well aware of the situation so I think that is a conversation you should have with your wife.”

Gojo was nothing if not pissed the rest of the night and wasted no time interrogating you once you crossed the threshold of your bedroom.

“Y/N what the actual fuck is going on!”

“Gosh Satoru jus-”

“Don’t you dare give me that I’m fine you’re overreacting bullshit because you literally painted and the doctor kept going on about your “condition” like what the hell.”

“You really aren’t letting this go?” You asked, fatigue beginning to catch up with you as you sat down on the edge of the bed. Your husband knelt in front of you, taking your hand in his and looking up into your eyes.

“My love, I don’t think you understand how terrified I was when you were unconscious. I am so worried about you but everytime I try to speak to you, you push me out. I love you and I worry because I love you. Please, please just, talk to me.”

As you looked down at Gojo you noticed how he was shaking ever so slightly. You sighed in worry before a small smile graced your lips.

“Okay, how about this, we go to bed now yeah, and I’ll tell you tomorrow night.”

“Why not right now?” he whispered, looking like a sad puppy.

“Satoru please, I’m really not ready to tell you today but tomorrow, I promise I’ll tell you everything, ok?”

“Fine,” he sighed, before tackling you on the bed, “I’m not letting go though because you genuinely scared the ever living shit out of me” he groaned into your neck, making you laugh. Oh you love your man-child of a husband.

~

“WIFEYYYYY!” Gojo called from the doorway after arriving home from a late mission. It was 11pm and he immediately jogged to your shared bedroom, slamming the door open expecting to see his loving wife waiting for him, only to find the room empty with a gift box sitting on the bed. It was a plain white box with a big red bow sitting on top of it. He slowly picked it up and untied the bow, looking around the room and calling out your name one final  time before opening the box.

Satoru felt his heart quite literally stop beating as he gazed into the box. He shakily dipped one hand into it and picked the baby onesie that was neatly folded inside it.

“Well?” he heard your quiet voice ask behind him. He slowly spun on his heel, dropping the bocks but keeping a tight clutch on the onesie.

“Really?” his weak voice cracked as his hands shook and he looked up at you, eyes beginning to cloud with tears.

“Yeah, one month.” You said, feeling your eyes tearing up as well as your husband slowly made his way towards you.

“So I’m really going to be a dad?”

“Uh-huh”

“And you’ll be a mom?”

“No shit sherlock.” you chuckled as your husband wrapped his arms around you, placing his forehead against yours.

“So you’re really, truly, absolutely, positutely pregnant?”

“Yes Satoru, I am 100% pregnant, I promise.”

“Yay” He whispered, giving you the biggest, most toothy smile you have ever seen. He was so, so happy. So, happy.

“Surprise!

“Yay!” he squealed, he was so, SO happy.

tags?:@porridgesblog

The beginning of and era~

© gojos-fr-bae

[msrubble]

Rockabye

Summary: mammon has a one night stand with a human and has a daughter, asks Lucifer for help.

May be a multiple part.

Warning: minor character death, terrible writing.

Words: 1,085

————————

Mammon, a demon that’s lived for millions of years, angel turned demon, one of the seven demon lords and the Avatar of Greed, is at a loss.

He was only in the Human World for a year. And it should have been only a one night stand. How did this happen? How could he make such a mistake?

Looking down at the living child in his hand as he watched the mother, sadly pass away, he could do nothing but grieve, it’s his fault all this was happening. He knew that if she had his child she would die. He desperately wanted her to not have the little girl. But she did and now an innocent human's blood is on his hand. Oh how Mammon regretted going to the Human World that day. Mammon never believed in fate, but now he cursed it.

Mammon could only feel guilty as he cradled the baby in his arms, the baby unaware of all around her. His little girl.

How will Lucifer react to this? Surely he will be upset, but he’s also a family man, so maybe he’ll help? Mammon was scared, scared of the future for the first time in centuries.

Looking one more time at the woman he barely knew and the baby in his arms. Who he has named Evelyn. He looks over to the doctor. “When can she be released?” He asks, quietly. The doctor looks up at him from his clipboard.

“Ahh, well, the baby is healthy.” He writes something down, probably something that has to do with the mother. “She should be released in two days, maybe even tomorrow.”

Mammon only hums in acknowledgment.

Mammon then sits on the couch and sighs. His mind feels like it's been going at a million thoughts per second.

Mammon watches as the doctors and other hospital workers move the deceased woman out of the room. Mammon didn’t usually feel bad for others, but this woman’s death was Mammon’s fault, the least he could do for her was raise their child the best he could.

“Evelyn, I promise I’ll take care of ya. M’sorry…” He whispers, listening to the baby’s soft breathing.

He pulls out his D.D.D and hovers his thumb over Lucifer’s number, hesitating on if he wants to inform him or not. He wasn’t even sure if Lucifer actually knew.

Clicking on Lucifer’s number, he listens to it ring a few times before his elder brother picks up.

“Hello?” A raspy voice answers, unaware of who called.

“Hey Lucifer..” Mammon greets, staring into his daughter's eyes.

“Mammon, where are you?” Lucifer asks, Mammon could hear papers and writing in the background of the phone call.

“The hospital in the human world.” He replied, he breathed in a deep breath. Then says before Lucifer could reply “Yeah, and uhm, I need your help.” He says nervously, fearing he may be punished.

Lucifer was quiet for a moment before speaking.

“What did you do?” Lucifer asked. Well more like demanded answers.

“I can explain.” Mammon replied, “But, I really need your help right now. Can ya help, please.” He pleaded.

Lucifer groans, placing his pen down. “I’m on my way, don’t do anything stupid.” He says before ending the call.

Mammon listens to the beeping of the call before placing his phone down and looking back down at Evelyn in his arms. “Your uncle is on his way. Be good, k?” He says to the baby, trying to figure out a way to convince Lucifer.

20 minutes later, Lucifer walks through the door of the room.

“I’m here, what did you need that you had to stop all my work for?” Lucifer asks, crossing his arms.

Mammon looks up at Lucifer, “Hey.. uhm, I want to introduce you to someone.” Mammon says, lifting Evelyn into Lucifer’s view.

“What is this?” He asks, staring at the baby.

“Her names Evelyn. She’s a baby.” Mammon answers.

Lucifer gives Mammon a deadpanned look. “I know what a baby is, Mammon.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What I want to know is why you’re holding one.”

Mammon shuffles in his spot, looking around the room trying to think of a way to word this.

“Well?” Lucifer asks.

“She’s my daughter..” Mammon replied in a whisp tone. Shuffling Evelyn in his hold.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in shock. “What?” He asks.

“I.. Yeah. Her name’s Evelyn.” Mammon Mentioned. Lucifer looks down at the baby, noticing the similarities to Mammon. The baby had dark tanned skin, he didn’t know the color of her eyes but the one thing he noticed that was different was the grass colored hair.

“Where is the mother?” He asked, no, he demanded an answer. No way Mammon created the baby on his own. And if he was in a human hospital, that means the mother was a human.

“She’s no longer around..” Mammon mentions, placing Evelyn in the baby cradle.

“She’s dead?” Lucifer asks, watching Mammon, still finding most of this unbelievable.

Mammon nods, feeling guilty all over again.

“I see, and you called me for help.” He asks, placing a hand on his hip. Mammon nods again, not looking Lucifer in the eyes. Lucifer sighs, trying to think of a solution. “I’ll help you. I will speak to Lord Diavolo, but she’s your responsibility. Don’t expect me or the others to help you with everything.”

Mammon looks at Lucifer and lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thanks Lucifer, I knew you’d help!” He grins at him, letting out a laugh. Lucifer rolls his eyes at that, but he smiles a little at the pure happiness in Mammons smile.

“Can I hold her?” Lucifer asks, looking down at the sleeping baby.

”Sure!” Mammon lifts Evelyn back into his arms, and gently puts her in Lucifer’s arms. Lucifer stares at the sleeping baby wrapped up in the swaddle blanket.

All irritation in Lucifer’s body felt as if it melted away. Babies have always been ugly creatures, Lucifer never really liked them. They make too much noise and they need far too much attention. But this baby was his niece, the daughter of his younger brother. The brother that can’t keep himself out of debt. They needed help and as the oldest he was going to.

————————-

And that’s the end of a maybe multiple series, but idk sense my motivation is at like rock bottom.

I saw another person do this here on tumblr, I made a father mammon fanfic like a few months ago in Ao3 but the story was so bad that I dropped it. That tumblr user motivated me to redo it all.

I apologize if you read through this and thought it was bad. I tried my best, barely scrapping out any good words out of my brain.

I made this while waiting for a game to download.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Where the Shadows Fade to Light (Poly!Winters/Reader): Chp. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil 7/8 Rating: Mature (for future chapters) Genre: Fluff & Angst (eventual happy ending) Warnings: Future instances of implied alcoholism, PTSD, and less than great childhoods. Summary: You meet Mia at a bar- and then you meet her husband. Maybe the two of them will bring some excitement to your tiny town. Slow-burn poly romance in an AU where RE8 ended without bloodshed. Notes: Also available on AO3, link here.

There’s nothing appealing about the glass of whiskey in your hand. It’s warm, the ice having long since melted, further watering down the cheap mix, and the taste is far from Vadim’s finest. By now, the only purpose it serves is to give you something to hold. Something to stop you from picking at your skin (or peeling chips of wood off the bar counter). Anything to pull your mind away from the glare of your phone screen, the silence of your group chat, those tiny words sitting heavy on your chest: Read 6:35 PM. Almost two hours ago.

What was the point of having a group chat if you were the only one who ever said anything?... Sighing as your phone’s screen times out, going dark, you move to take a drink. Except the glass is pulled from your grip before it even lifts off the counter. Snapping out of your stupor, you glare up at the offending hand.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with that, Vadim,” you say, voice bordering close enough to a whine to make you cringe. This certainly isn’t your finest moment. Your boss seems to agree, based on the perk of his brow, and hints of pity bleed through his normally cheery demeanor. A beat of silence passes before he unceremoniously dumps the last of your whiskey into the sink behind him.

  “It’s cheap shit. Hot, cheap shit. I pay you enough, yes? You should have better tastes,” Vadim says, with the same gentle tone you assume he uses with his daughter. Old instincts boil up, unwanted, making you shrink away from his paternal sympathy, folding into yourself like you’re a teenager again. Small, tired. If only you knew the way it made Vadim’s heart shudder, his mind overlaying memories of his own on top of the present. Maybe then you’d let him be a father to you for five seconds.

Instead, you ignore his attempts at making eye contact, turning to one of the bar’s TVs, pretending to lose yourself in a sport he knows you find boring. Feeling his gaze on the back of your head never gets more comfortable. When it passes, finally, you breathe a sigh of relief, only to feel his arm next to yours a few moments later. It withdraws as quickly as it came, leaving behind the telltale clink of a new glass against the counter.

Ah, guess he knows you well, after all…. Or maybe not, considering one sip is enough to let you know there’s no alcohol in this one.

“You’re killing me here, buddy,” you say, deadpan, before taking another swig. Even without any kick, it’s delicious, though you’d be slow to admit it. Vadim’s little smile lets you know he’s well aware of his skill. The smile doesn’t last long, however, with the way you sigh and lean further onto the counter. Normally you aren’t this… ah, brooding? Concern grows heavy in Vadim’s chest, and he too leans forward, trying to get you to meet his gaze.

“Why’re you still here, kid? Shift ended an hour ago; you should be out with friends, making merry or whatnot, not keeping company with an old man like me,” he explains, unaware that he is sprinkling salt on your wounds. A silver lining exists, even if you do not see it at the moment, in that the man finds you charming enough that he assumes you must have other people to visit. He’d be right, too, if you lived in any other city. “Hmm. Your silence is worrying, it is like I have two children to fret over now. Should I call Elle to come whisk you away?”

Instantly you sit up straight, too excited to bother subduing your response. The mere mention of a visit from Vadim’s daughter is enough to brighten your mood. After all, she was the only person you knew who left your little town and bothered to come back. If she’s in Lonevo again… Well, for one, she couldn’t have been back for long. Otherwise she’d have already blown up your phone with too many emoticons and requests to hangout, maybe she’d even have “ambushed” you during one of your shifts.

“She is one town over, for now,” Vadim interjects, noticing the way your thoughts are racing faster than he can hope to follow. “Should be coming home tomorrow afternoon, but perhaps she could be convinced to come early, if you were to ask?...” A twinkle forms in his eye, and he seems ready to extend his suggestions, but something catches his attention first. The familiar sound of the chimes on the door reaches your ears a moment later. At that, Vadim says one last thing, only loud enough for you to hear. “Maybe you will find more entertainment in our new guest, instead.”

For several seconds you’re left baffled by his change in tune. But you shift in your seat, glancing over your shoulder, and suddenly you’ve completely forgotten about whatever it is Vadim just said. All your focus is on the woman by the entrance. She’s looking around, sharp eyes taking in every detail of the bar and its inhabitants, intentionally ignoring a couple men ogling her (they’re quick to behave once they catch Vadim’s angry stare). Eventually her gaze settles on you, then slowly passes to the bar counter.

Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, you turn back to Vadim, offering him a soft smile. Of course he had known the stranger would lift your mood. It’s not just a matter of attraction, albeit she certainly is beautiful, it’s the fact that she’s a newcomer. Not just someone passing through town, even, but a newcomer! Tourists don’t stop at Vadim’s bar. This isn’t the kind of place you find on a brochure, or a travel blog, nor is it somewhere the guy at your hotel’s front desk would recommend. If you’re only staying the night, you can grab a six-pack from the corner store, or you can simply stay sober.

From the outside, Vadim’s bar looks like a hole in the wall. Looks like a front for the mob. Hell, it looks like it got foreclosed six years ago (and to be fair, it almost did). Somebody coming here is either a local or someone who’s been in town long enough to finally work up the nerve to ask the gas station attendant where they can go to get shitfaced. Considering the gas station is run by Ishmael, that means at least a week. A week of staying in little old Lonevo.

Considering the population of your hometown has been bleeding steadily since before you were born, any and all newcomers are a cause for excitement. It takes far too much willpower to stay calm when you hear the stranger approach, and even more willpower when she takes the seat next to yours. The two of you are the only people on this side of the counter. With plenty of empty seats around, you can’t help but wonder if the stranger decided you were the most approachable person in the bar (or maybe just the least threatening).

Seeing her up close only further sparks your interest. The leather jacket she wears is well-worn, scuffed in some places and repaired in others, and underneath it is a surprisingly dorky sweater. A drab taupe in color, with a floral pattern going down the middle and around the collar. Somehow she makes it look good. There’s a lanyard around her neck when she first sits down, and you barely catch a glimpse of her name on the badge before she’s pulling it off, tucking it into the inside pocket of her jacket. Mia W. You start to run through your list of people in town, trying to see if she might be related to one of your neighbors.

But then she’s meeting your gaze with a lopsided smile, giving you the tiniest, cutest little wave. Again, all thoughts vacate your mind, leaving nothing but a warmth and the unbeatable urge to wave back. Mia’s smile only widens when you do, a toothy display that might have been unnerving from anybody else, for reasons you don’t quite understand. Maybe it was something in her eyes? The way the smile reached them, yet blended with another feeling, one you did not have time to examine before she looked away. This time her gaze lands on Vadim.

“I’ll have one of whatever they’re having, please,” she says, her voice rich and silky. Does she have a podcast? She should have a podcast, you think, not bothering to fight the heat that rushes to your cheeks. Apparently Mia was blessed by the Gods, her voice pure heaven to your ears. It’s far smoother than her appearance would have made you guess. Thankfully, Vadim doesn’t seem at all fazed by her, immediately starting to grab ingredients for the mocktail.

“No alcohol in theirs, but it is easy to add, if you want,” he explains, not yet pausing his movements. For as long as you’ve worked for the older gentleman, you’ve been in awe of him, the practiced ease with which he mixes even the most complex drinks. In another life he might have made a perfect alchemist. Or a mad scientist.

“No alcohol is fine, I’m waiting for somebody anyway,” Mia answers. For a moment longer she watches his movements, perhaps as impressed as you are, before giving a hum and angling her body towards you. “Maybe you,” she continues, gaze meeting yours for a brief moment, “can keep me company while I wait. How does that sound?” If not for the way she’s leaning towards you, your brain wouldn’t let you believe she’s talking to you. Even with her body language, it takes you a few seconds to process what she’s said, the words catching you off guard.

“I’m sure Ridley will be more than happy to keep you company, Miss,” Vadim speaks up on your behalf, sliding the finished drink towards Mia’s waiting hand. Before you can interject, either to protest or try to get him to be more subtle, Mia lets out a quiet laugh and thanks him. Then her free hand brushes against your arm, trailing up to your bicep and falling back to her side. At last she faces you, fully, nothing but warmth in her expression.

“I hope you don’t mind being volunteered, Ridley,” she says, your nickname rolling off of her tongue as if you were old friends.

“Not at all, Miss,” you stutter, mouth feeling dry, internally praying that your face isn’t as flushed as it suddenly feels. To your surprise, Mia’s brow twitches ever so slightly at your words. It’s not clear to you what you’ve done to cause irritation, but it makes you feel a twinge of worry, despite how fleeting her reaction. Wanting to smooth things over, you’re quick to continue. “Are you new in town? I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” That earns you another of her chuckles, oddly yet thankfully, and she takes a sip of her drink before answering.

“A little old to be new, if I’m honest,” she replies. Some semblance of a smirk graces her lips for a moment, like she’s appreciating an inside joke or a reference she knows you don’t understand. Certainly she can’t be calling herself old, right?... Now that you think about it, you have zero clue how old she might be, other than likely at least a few years older than yourself. Her skin is clear, with only the tiniest hint of wrinkling (the kind accelerated by laughter and grins), and there are only a couple grey strands in her hair. Something about her face makes you unable to decide if she’s thirty-five or fifty-three. Stress, maybe?

Mia interrupts your musing by nudging your foot with one of her own, her head tilting to the side as she studies your expression. Satisfied with whatever she’s looking for, she moves her foot back, then decides to elaborate on her earlier answer.

“I’ve been in the area for almost a decade, technically. Moved towns about, oh, let’s say a year ago?... Guess work has been keeping me pretty busy.” Now she rubs the back of her neck, sheepishly, the movement making her necklace twinkle under the lights. Part of you wants to ask about her job, but the way her expression falters at the mention of work has you holding back. For now.

“Well, it’s never too late to make some new friends, right? It’s pretty quiet right now, but Vadim’s is always a good place to hangout,” you assure her, offering up a hopeful smile. You half expect Vadim himself to chime in again, but the man has silently moved to the far side of the counter, busying himself with loading up the dishwasher. Still, the angle of his body lets you know he’s at least trying to listen to your conversation. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. You can call me Ridley,” you add, extending your hand for her to shake.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Mia says, winking before taking your hand. Even this brief contact is enough to make you realize that her hands are calloused, weathered perhaps not from a life of manual labor but certainly from a routine action. “I’m Mia, Mia Winters. So, Ridley, tell me this: How did you get your nickname?”

The question catches you completely off guard. You blink several times, eyebrows gaining a slight furrow, trying to recall if you’d made any implications about your name. Nothing comes to mind. Before you can stutter out some note of confusion, Mia laughs again, more of a giggle this time, and once more lets her fingertips brush up against you.

“Lucky guess, that’s all. You don’t exactly look like a Ridley,” she explains, still grinning as she sips at her drink. While she probably has a point, it’s been years since anyone has called you by another name. Even in your own mind you see yourself as Ridley, the name feeling more fitting than the one gifted to you by your parents. In their defense… they couldn’t have predicted the person you’d become (and the way their chosen name would no longer fit).

“It’s… well, it’s a long story. Okay, not exactly a long story, per se, just a, uh-” you start to say.

“An embarrassing one?” Mia fills in, setting her finished drink down and leaning in a little closer. Any further and you think you might be able to feel her breath fanning against your skin. Good thing she makes notice of your reaction, pulling back enough to settle your nerves.

“Yeah, embarrassing is a good word. In a way, at least. The way that most childhood nicknames are, I suppose.” There’s more to it than just that, but you don’t feel like opening that can of worms with a pretty lady you’ve just met (and certainly not a pretty lady who seems to find you interesting). Mia watches you, smile no longer reaching her eyes, then nods with a little hum.

“Don’t feel like telling me the story, hmm? Guess I’ll have to charm it out of you some other time,” she declares. Instantly her smile feels genuine again, the difference making you wonder if you had imagined the lapse in the first place. Yeah, maybe you were overthinking it. What reason would she have for faking her feelings?

“Hey, think of it this way,” you begin, more confident than before, “now you have an excuse to spend more time with me. Gotta hear the story eventually, right?” A flicker of surprise crosses her face, though it gives way to something resembling mischief. Again she leans forward. Closer, this time, albeit at an angle.

Next thing you know you’re frozen in place with her lips dangerously close to your ear. You almost miss what she says, the words threatening to get lost beneath the pounding of your pulse.

“Who said I needed an excuse to spend more time with you?”

You expect her to pull back as soon as she finishes speaking, to let the moment pass effortlessly, maybe ending it with another one of her soft laughs. But she doesn’t. Instead she lingers, no longer poised to whisper in your ear but close enough that you can see her individual eyelashes. It takes a moment for you to realize that her hand is on your knee, and another second after that to notice your hand fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. More heat rushes to your face as you tear your gaze away from hers. That’s when you notice what dangles from her necklace: A ring. Golden, simple and traditional, with something engraved across the surface.

“Is that-?” You don’t finish your sentence. Confusion creates a toxic mix alongside embarrassment and guilt inside your chest as you glance between Mia’s eyes and what is clearly a wedding ring. It’s hard not to assume the worst, at least with your history of anxiety, especially with the way Mia recoils at your question. There are other explanations (other than her currently being married), of course. Some might even make more sense. After all, you’ve never met someone who wears their actual wedding ring like that, only someone who wore the ring of their deceased partner.

But you keep going back to Mia’s expression. There’s guilt in her eyes, small as it is, and tension in her shoulders. Both of her hands move to fiddle with the necklace as she fully pulls away from you, sitting straight as a rod. When she speaks, her voice is hushed, meant only for you.

“My husband lost-” her words are cut off by the chime of the entrance bell, both of you turning to see a man enter. Another newcomer.

The man’s head turns straight towards Mia, not bothering to look around, as if he was drawn to her like a moth to flame. Lips curling up and eyes brightening at the sight of her. It seems clear, then, that this is her husband. Swallowing hard, you turn back to the counter, gesturing for Vadim to pour you another drink. He must have predicted your request, as you only have to wait a second before a straight shot of his finest whiskey is placed in front of you. Meeting his gaze isn’t necessary to know he’s looking at you with pity.

“Ethan, baby, I was starting to get worried you got lost!” Mia chimes, a smile evident in the curve of her words. It makes your stomach churn, and you quickly down the shot, not ignoring the burn but rather relying on it to ground you. If your “new friend” notices, she makes no mention of it. Instead she gestures Ethan closer, the man happily obliging and slinking into the seat next to her. “Your pal was right about this place, it seems like a good place to finally make some friends.”

“I wouldn’t really call Ishmael a pal,” Ethan replies, wincing a little, mouth twitching like there was something bitter on his tongue. “But I’m glad to hear you didn’t run into any trouble without me. And by the looks of it, you’ve already made a new friend?” Both of them are angled towards you, now, and it gives you the excuse to take a good look at Ethan.

He’s a pretty average height, not much taller than Mia, with a decent build. Hard to tell how athletic he might be, considering he’s wearing a winter jacket over a hoodie. A bit of scruff dusts the lower half of his face. Either it’s intentional, albeit uncommon around here, or he’s not great at growing a beard. Maybe he’s just in the awkward transition period while trying to grow it out?... Deciding it’s not important, you glance down, noticing that he too wears his wedding ring on a necklace. It’s a definite match to Mia’s. Then your gaze trails along his arms, to where his hand rests on top of hers, and something clicks in your brain.

This guy must have had a terrible first week as a carpenter. Nothing else comes to mind to explain the thick scarring around two of his fingers, where they had clearly been amputated then reattached. An older scar peeks out from his sleeve, wrapping around his whole wrist, and now you can’t believe he still has any motor function remaining in his left hand. At least now you have an idea of why they wear their rings the way they do.

“I’m definitely working on it,” Mia replies, offering you a sweet smile. Oddly enough, there’s no more guilt in her expression, as if she had already moved past what happened. Stranger still, her free hand once more reaches for your knee. This time you pull away, fighting a frown as you see the flash of hurt in her eyes. Did she expect you to play nice in front of Ethan?... “Ridley, this is my husband, Ethan Winters. Ethan, this is our new friend, Ridley. We were just talking about seeing each other again before you came in.”

Now you’re really confused. There’s still a flirty undertone to Mia’s voice, but Ethan seems unfazed, smiling wide as he reaches to shake your hand. Too caught off guard to ignore instinct, you take it with only a hint of awkwardness.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ridley. Always nice to have another friend; I’m sure Mia mentioned that we’re somewhat new to the area?” He says, hesitating on his phrasing at the last sentence. Clearly he wasn’t sure what Mia might have actually said. Did… did their stories not quite align? Were they entering this conversation with the mindset that she might not tell the truth?...

Gods, you and your overthinking, mind never stopping long enough to just let the events play out in front of you.

“She mentioned something like that, yeah,” you answer. Several tense seconds had passed, and your voice comes out rougher than Ethan expected. Now he glances at his wife, squeezing her hand in a silent request for either context or support. When he meets your gaze again, briefly, he gives what you assume is supposed to be a reassuring smile. Before Mia can speak up, you continue. It only feels fair that you let him know at least part of what she told you. Just in case she was lying. “What made you two decide to come visit us after, ah, what did she say… after a year?”

“Oh, we’ve really been meaning to come out here for a while, honestly. But between work and some… personal issues, it’s been hard to find a time we could both visit town. Thankfully, Mia’s boss let her off early for once, so we decided to meet up here,” Ethan explains, his concern melting away the more he talks. Something in his gaze feels a bit… familiar? But his tone is harder to read, and your brain is still too frazzled from Mia’s touch to fully process what’s happening. “Didn’t think we’d make a friend this fast, though.”

Were… were they… both flirting? No, that can’t be right, even if Ethan isn’t bothered by the way Mia speaks to and looks at you. Right?... Maybe they’re just both very, hmm, charming people.

“We really did pick the right place to come, hun,” Mia says, suddenly, and much, much quieter. Except she’s not looking at either of you. Instead she’s looking at something behind the counter, and you follow her gaze to see the tiny pride flag that Vadim printed out and taped to the wall. Below is a sticky note, written by Elle, that says real one coming in the mail, along with a smiley face. The note itself is a recent addition, but the flag has been there since the first day she came out, three or four years ago. Looking at it is enough to calm the storm of feelings inside your chest for the time being.

You can still remember standing next to Vadim, looking over his shoulder at the computer screen, while he double and triple checked that he was printing out the correct flag. All he wanted to do was make sure Elle felt as welcomed as possible, and you had been more than happy to help. Definitely made it easier for you to eventually come out to him, too. Now that same source of comfort is being passed to Ethan and Mia, who share a knowing look and a brief kiss.

“Good to know we’re welcome,” Ethan says, in that some soft voice his wife used, giving the tiny flag one last look before turning your way. Nothing strange in his gaze, this time, just the visage of a happy guy who feels a little more at home than he did five minutes ago.

“Also glad I don’t have to try and work that information out of anyone,” Mia adds, drawing the words out and giving a short huff. Then she shifts, stretching out, twisting in a way that feels very feline. When she turns your way at the end, the face she makes can only be read as mildly apologetic. Mildly. “Not saying that we weren’t having fun, Ridley. I do want to get to know you better. If you’re still interested, that is?” One of her hands twitches like she desperately wants to try touching you again. To your relief, she resists, simply leaning in by a fraction of an inch.

Behind her, Ethan is still all smiles, but now he’s giving you a hopeful thumbs up. Did he even know what Mia had done before he got here? Was he really so chill with her flirting?... As scared as you were earlier, you’re starting to think that you don’t have anything to worry about. It feels too soon to trust them… yet that’s exactly what your heart is begging you to do. Not like you’ve got anyone else to hangout with right now anyway, right? For better or worse, regardless of the look of warning Vadim is desperately trying to give you, you find yourself accepting. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe you won’t get burned.

[featheredclover]

September Rain

Chapter Two

Also on Wattpad

Read from the beginning

Chapter One> <

“NK is quite cute isn’t he?” 

Khushi rolled her eyes.

“What use is it? You’ll never ever ask him for a dance”

Preetika gave a sharp tug at her hair.

“Ouch!” Khushi winced.

“Serves you right, Khushi!” Mona mumbled, applying a generous amount of lip gloss.

“Don’t you know Preetika believes that a boy should ask a girl out? Not the other way around!”

“So what?” Preetika frowned.

Khushi turned around in her chair.

“Preetika those days are long gone by. You should ask a guy if you like him. Simple as that!”

“Simple as that?” Preetika frowned.

“Boys don’t wait. If they like a girl, they’ll let her know! So if a guy isn’t telling you he likes you- news flash! It’s because he doesn’t!”

Khushi’s heart lurched painfully.

“Oh come on!” Mona said.

“They are humans just like us! If we hesitate to confess, so do they”

“Mona is right”

“Whatever, call me conservative but I stick to my views” Preetika said with a shrug.

Khushi exchanged an amused glance with Mona.

“We actually call you an old hag”

They burst into laughter, dodging the twin pillows aimed at their head.

————

The disco light twirled, creating a mosaic across the room, the red draperies and every symbol of the red house dormitory fading in the background.

Khushi laughed as NK lifted her up.

“Put me down you psycho!”

“You came!” NK settled her on her feet.

“Of course I came! I couldn’t miss seeing you become the hottest thing in Woodsmith, could I ?”

“Yes, let’s leave the boring jobs to Aman and Arnav. I am here to live up to the Khurana name, darling “ NK winked.

“Hi NK” Preetika interrupted softly.

“Oh hey! Preetika and Mona! Glad you guys came! The food is there, the drinks are there and the party? It is right here!”

“Clever” Mona said dryly.

Khushi grabbed a cup and left the bickering pair discreetly. She hummed along with music, swaying as she took a sip.

She looked curiously at a couple dancing on the centre of the floor.

Looks like they forgot about the rest of the world!

Her smile broadened in surprise as she saw Aman holding Naina as they moved to the music.

“Things worked out for him, didn’t it?”

“God! You startled me!” She jumped.

“You know Arnav, phantom would be your alter ego’s name”

“Phantom? Yes, I am at fault because you are so unaware of your surroundings…..Or maybe you don’t look for me.”

“What?” 

She had to have heard him wrong.

“Nothing “ Arnav slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Where are the others?”

Khushi wrinkled her nose.

“Mona is probably this close to swinging at NK”

“Someone should remind them, they are not twelve anymore “ he said with a shake of his head.

“Where is the fun in growing up?” She shrugged.

“Let’s dance,” he whispered into her ear.

————

Khushi lifted her hands, her hips moving with the beats.

She laughed as Arnav awkwardly imitated her moves.

He gave up and pulled her to him with a tug on her waist.

“No, wonder you are not leaving the dance club”

“Well, someone has to play that role here” She shouted over the music.

“Alright! That’s it! We are ditching Gupta”

Before she could react, he pulled her out of the sardine packed dance floor.

“It’s 9 o'clock Arnav. Where are we even ditching to?”

“To my haven” 

———

The full moon shone brilliantly upon the terrace.

“You have a knack for finding hideaways “

“Well, the reds don’t believe in privacy. A man has to live, Khushi ”

“Sure” She shook her head with a smile.

Sitting down, Khushi patted the spot beside her.

“You know yesterday’s rain got me thinking “, he sat down.

“What?”

“The unexpected rain. I don’t like it so much”

“No one does Arnav. It gets you wet, you never see it coming and-“

“No, no Khushi. If it rained in September, I wouldn’t mind. Even if I got wet, wearing the most expensive suit, I would be happy. There is just something special about September rain”

Khushi smiled ,“Because it’s predictable? Because it gives you comfort?”

“Maybe. Maybe because you know it’s coming. The clouds tempt you, the sun hides from you. But when it drenches you….you love it as much as you did last September and…”

He paused. 

With a sigh, he turned his face up to look at the star ridden sky.

“And?” She whispered into the night.

Her breath hitched as his eyes met hers.

How can someone be so damn perfect?

“And I know I’ll love it every September of my life”

——————

Tagging: @arshifiesta

@hand-picked-star @phuljari @msbhagirathi @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @minpdnim @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm

[dreamyshape]

If I may suggest…if it’s alright … Bug and Timmy going on a ‘Kiss the Girl’ style fishing trip? The two goobers dancing around their fondness for each other while Marco and Bodie are secretly trying to get them to at least kiss.

Hrnnng I was supposed to post this on my 16th b-day a week ago but I forgor.

Kiss the Girl (Bug and Timmy oneshot)

“Hey, Bug!” You stop your cleaning and look over at the small gator. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go fishing with me?” You nod, “Let me just finish cleaning up and I’ll be out soon.” Timmy grins, “I’ll help ya so it can be done twice as fast.”

After you two finish cleaning you head outside to Timmy’s boat so y’all can set it up. Timmy double checks to make sure he has everything then carefully pushes the boat into the water. “Alrighty bug, try not to fall into the boat… again.” You sigh and recall the time you nearly crushed the gator. “That was one time, and I had never been on a boat before!” Timmy laughs and holds his hand out for you to steady yourself with. You travel ankle deep into the water before hoisting yourself onto the wood boat, you feel it rock before it settles again. “There we go, and you didn’t crush me this time!” You give his hair a light flick and he huffs playfully. Timmy grabs two paddles from the boat’s floor and brings it to the water’s surface.

“Huh, I didn’t know that Timmy and bug were going on a fishing date.” Marco patted Bodie’s shoulder to get his attention. “It’s about time that boy told them. He always gets flustered when they catch him staring.” The taller gator chuffed. Marco glanced over at Bodie before looking back towards the boat. “Maybe he’ll get the guts to finally tell them. As entertaining as it is to watch him stutter out excuses or trip over his own two feet, it gets infuriating after awhile.” Bodie sighs at Marco before also turning to look out at the boat.

“Alrighty, this looks like as good a spot as any for fishing.” Timmy stops his rowing and pulls the paddles out of the water. The boat gently glides forward on the water before coming to a stop. The smaller gator leans into the floor of the boat and pulls out two fishing rods. “You know how to use one of these, bug?” You nod and he hands the rod off to you. “Let’s cast on different sides of the boat so the lines don’t get tangled.”

“Hey, Marco, you think we should swim out there and play match maker?” Marco turns to Bodie and huffs. “Why would we do that? What if they spot us?” Bodie looks at Marco before taking exaggerated steps toward the water. “Bodie, don’t do it. Bodie!” The bigger gator gives Marco a smirk before silently dipping into the water and speedily swimming off towards the small boat. Marco watched on in horror as Bodie got closer to the blissfully unaware duo perched inside the vessel.

“Hey, Bug, I think I got somethin’!” Timmy hurriedly explains as he pulls on his line. You turn towards him just in time to see him pull the line with enough force that the small bass he caught flies through the air and slams into his face. You can’t help but snort at his stunned face. “Wha- what just happened?” You’re still giggling before settling down, “You okay, Timmy?” The small gator looks at you and nodded. “I’m fine, Bug. Just a little stunned is all. Man that little fish had a lot of power I just wish it didn’t ge-“ Timmy pauses as the boat lightly rocks. “Huh? What was that?” Both of you look around and into the water, trying to see what hit the small vessel’s side. “That must of been a really big catfish. Hey at least it didn’t tip the boat.” (Boss music starts playing) “I feel like something bad is about to happen.” *sounds of splashing and the boat being pushed over* “ACK! What was that?! Bug, you alright!?” You pop out from under the water and attempt to swim to Timmy. “Yep, are you sure that was a cat fish?” The gator pauses. “It must have been a really big catfish…?” You sigh before looking back at the capsized boat, wondering how you two were going to get it back upright. “Maybe if we take different sides we can get this thing back upright. You pull and I’ll push?” Timmy woes at his eyes before nodding. “Sounds like an easy plan.” Paddling to the other side of the boat you begin lifting as Timmy grabs hold of a lose board and pulls. It takes a minute before you both get the boat stable and back the way it’s supposed to be. “Finally! Hold on, bug. I’ll lift you up.” Before Timmy swims over to your side, you feel something tickle your calf and you instinctually kick at it. Your foot makes contact with hard scales and you nearly scream but keep your composure. “Alrighty, hold onto my shoulders and I’ll try to throw you up.” Timmy states as he prepares to hoist you up. “Ready? Go!” *thunk* “T I M M Y.” “oop- sorry, Bug. Didn’t mean to throw you onto the floor.”

“You proud of yourself? Not only did you flip the boat but you got horse kicked in the stomach” Marco sighed as Bodie clutched his gut. “Whoopsie…?”

“Well this trips been a bust. Not only did we not catch anything but we got soaked!” Timmy huffed before pausing. “Well not entirely a bust. We got to spend some time together and the boat flippin’ was kinda funny.” You looked up and giggled, noticing a small lily pad clung to his ear. You reach out and grab it. “Huh…? Bug, what was that for?” You hold out the small flora for him to see before chucking it back into the water. You look up at the gator and realize he’s flushed. “I-I didn’t even feel that on me.” You both stop talking as the boat lightly hits the muddy floor of the stream and comes to a stop near the shore. You carefully step out of the boat before holding a hand out for Timmy. He looks up at your face then at your hand before firmly grabbing ahold of your outstretched palm. Pulling him up he looks down at his clothes and sighs. “What are we gonna tell Bodie…?”

[miss-tc-nova]

Not a Nap - Silver x Reader

Doing the masquerade has reminded me of Silver's well-meaning ignorance. I love it. Also, I thought this would be funny.

Premise: Silver thinks Reader/Yuu/OC is napping

Words: 839

~~~~~

               Pain seeps through my head as the worst headache I’ve had in a long time washes over me. Memories of the causing incident start to flash behind my eyes—nagging at my fellow freshmen and dormmates to keep their things out of the middle of the floor, them making excuses not to help me clean up and dashing to their club activities, me tripping on something of theirs as I cleaned up, and bashing my head on the coffee table as I went down.

               Suppressing a soft groan, I press down on the throbbing in vain hopes of relief. Then I get to thinking: the floor is a lot softer than I remember it being. Prying my eyes open reveals not the ceiling of the commons but that of my room painted with the rays of the setting sun.

               It takes a few blinks to confirm that this is indeed my room, yet I remember falling in the commons. But maybe I’m wrong. No, I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be in the commons. Well this isn’t good.

               Warmth rests beneath my hand. And it moves.

               I snap my gaze down to find a young man, peacefully asleep like the dead, his chest rising and falling beneath my palm. Now I’m really confused because I definitely don’t remember him being around before the incident.

               I shake him. “Silver. Silver.” Oh, my tongue feels weird.

               Surprisingly, those auroral eyes flutter open.

               “Hm? Oh, hey,” he hums sleepily. A hand rises to rub the sleep from his eyes.

               “What are you doing here?”

               It takes him a moment to remember. “Malleus and Lilia asked if you were going to join us for dinner. You were asleep on the floor when I came to ask. You must’ve been tired—didn’t even stir when I brought you to bed.” The young man sits up, a bashful tint painting his nose. “And you just looked so peaceful that I couldn’t help joining you for a bit.”

               What he says swirls in my head. Then, with a frown, Silver reaches out to take my shoulder; I hadn’t even realized I was tilting.

               “Are you okay?”

               “Silver, I wasn’t napping. I hit my head.” It’s like my tongue is getting in the way.

               His eyes fly wide open. “Oh!”

               Fingers dance through my hair until I flinch away from the spike in pain.

               “Oh that’s a pretty large bump. Are you dizzy? Do you feel sick?”

               “I don’t know. I hurt,” I drawl.

               Silver scoots off the bed. “We better go to the infirmary.”

               I’m unaware of whether or not I can carry myself to the infirmary, but I don’t have to think about it for Silver’s sinewed arms lift me from the bed. Out into the twilight he takes me, cool air contrasting the warmth of his body. Leaning against him, I let his steady heartbeat lull me nearly back to slumber, but the bang of his boot to the infirmary door jars me back.

               After a brief scolding in regards to his entrance, the school nurse ushers us in to one of the beds. My thoughts are sluggish but I’m able to answer all her questions. The conclusion does turn out to be a mild concussion and, while I should be fine to return home, it’s not recommended I spend the night alone. Regardless, she ventures into the supply closet for a few items to send home with me.

               “Perhaps you should stay in Diasomnia tonight,” Silver suggests. When I don’t immediately answer, he back tracks. “Or if you’d prefer to stay in Ramshackle, I could volunteer to keep an eye on you there.”

               Seeing his serious concern, I make an attempt at a joke. “I dunno. You might just assume I’m sleeping again if I pass out.”

               His worry slips to guilt. “You’re right. It feels like things only get better when you’re around so I never considered the possibility of you getting seriously hurt.” The young man begins to pace. “Even if I didn’t, there’s no guarantee I wouldn’t fall asleep again myself. Maybe I should ask fath—er, I mean Lilia to—”

               My first attempt misses, but I do manage to grab Silver’s arm to cease the spiral.

               “Woah, woah. I was kidding,” I interrupt. “I’m sure you would take very good care of me.” My stomach decides it’s time to interject. “But could we please stay at Diasomnia? I’m so hungry.”

               With a sigh, he lets a gentle smile grace his lips. “Of course. I’ll take care of you as if you were my liege.”

               “I don’t think I’m quite at the same level as Malleus.”

               “You are to me.”

               His response is so quick that it takes me a moment to process it. Each word adds an ember to the collating fire in my ears. Silver’s brow furrows.

               “How are you feeling? Do you have a fever?”

               Though his hand feels sweetly cool against my forehead, it too adds degrees to my temperature.

               "No. I’m feeling better.”