#*sigh* no the colouring didn't work out this is all i got to offer

[shiningbean]

three of swords (heartbreak, sorrow, grief)

plus the lines because i still prefer the clean look of it

[tinyluvs]

imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!

catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late

you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way

"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"

spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap

"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back

"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes

you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,

spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly

"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"

your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food

"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"

truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house

the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee

he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk

"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.

"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod

a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face

you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"

penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process

giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"

usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says

people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy

"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms

derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him

"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever

your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room

after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk

"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.

when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting

"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"

he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you

"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt

your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"

"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"

he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder

"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Go Home - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 2667>

What. A. Fucking. Day. 

You were running around the Ferrari hospitality, with practically no energy after being up all night. The fact that you had even made it into work was an absolute miracle, but you thought that doing something with yourself might help you take your mind off of how you were feeling. 

It was safe to say that it didn't. If anything, it just made it worse. Your body felt more fatigued the more you moved, and plenty of people had noticed. They all asked if you were feeling OK, and you always responded with a meek 'yeah, yeah, just feeling a little under the weather.'

One of the many people to notice this was Charles. He had seen that you weren't your usual, perky self, and that concerned him slightly. After seeing you around for a few hours, not getting noticeably better, Charles took it upon himself to approach you. 

You had just walked out of Fred's office after delivering some papers, and he was stood in the corridor, seemingly waiting to go in. "Hey Charles," you greeted, sending him a small yet weak smile. You didn't want him to be the next person to ask how you were feeling, but you could sense it coming anyway.

"Hey, you OK? You're not looking too good..." he sheepishly said, not wanting to upset you, but still wanting to show that he cared about your current condition. 

"Oh thanks, Charles," you rolled your eyes, walking away from him. Instantly, you felt bad that you had reacted like that, knowing he was just trying to be nice and knowing that your attitude was uncalled for.

But, you really weren't feeling like making kind smalltalk with someone. You weren't in any mood to turn around and apologise either, so you just figured you would say sorry to him when you were feeling better. 

Shortly after, you heard footsteps behind you in the corridor. Charles knew you didn't mean it and it was just because you were feeling shitty, so he didn't take it to heart. If anything, it made him even more worried for you and whether you should actually be at work or not. 

"Y/N, hey, no, wait," he called after you, speeding up so he could catch up to you. "You really don't look too good, are you sure you don't need anything? I've got some extra time if you want some help with some stuff." he said, hoping that you'd allow him to take some of the load off of you so that you could relax for a bit. 

"No, no," you declined, thinking that he had something better to be doing with his time. He was just as busy as you were, if not more. Plus, you didn't want to give him whatever it was you had just in case it would hinder his racing ability. 

"Are you sure? I really don't mind, it'd be-" he started, but you cut him off with a sigh. 

"Charles, I've got it, OK? I do appreciate the offer, really, but you're just as busy as I am." you interjected, turning around and walking off from him again. Charles huffed to himself, unsure of what to do. 

He was certain that you running around and working yourself to the bone wasn't what was going to help your illness, but he also knew that you were stubborn as a mule and it'd take a hell of a lot of convincing to get you to change your mind.

For the time being, he resigned himself to the fact that you were going to carry on working. He'd keep an eye on you for the rest of the day, and if you got any worse, he would simply have to force you to go home. 

An hour or so later, Charles spotted you in the cafeteria, pushing your food around your plate with your fork. His heart dropped slightly as he saw your face. You had paled in colour, your nose and cheeks contrasting against your skin as they were as red as your polo that you had on. 

He leant against the wall with his arms crossed for a short while, his eyes glued on you. Your shoulders were hunched, one of your arms wrapped around your stomach. He spotted the subconscious, self-soothing gesture, and his hard expression softened. 

You really didn't look good, not at all. Definitely not good enough to be staying at work and slaving away for the rest of the day. Slowly, Charles stepped towards your table, the other people around knowing that it'd take a miracle to convince you to chill it out. 

"Hey, can I sit?" he quietly said, gesturing to one of the chairs at your otherwise empty table. You craned your neck to look up at him, leaning back and taking your arm away from your stomach. 

"Yeah, course," you nodded, watching as he pulled out the chair next to you and sat down on it. With one elbow on the table, Charles rested his chin on his hand. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the question obviously leading. It was with an expectant answer, an answer consisting of you telling him how horrendous you felt and how you needed to go home. 

However, you replied with a simple, "I'm fine." Charles groaned, running a hand through his chocolate locks. 

"You're not fine, OK? Look at you, you look dead on your feet," he said, frustration seeping through his words. He never understood why you were always so stubborn, especially when it came to your own wellbeing. 

Going home was clearly the best option for you and your health, but you refused to just give up your pride and perfect work-attendance record and go home. "I'm just feeling a bit rough, it's nothing serious," you tried to reassure him, knowing he wasn't going to back down on the matter easily. 

"Nothing serious? You're pale as a ghost, you clearly have 0 energy, and it is just obvious that you feel absolutely awful!" he snapped, unable to keep his temper in check. He wasn't snapping out of anger, and you knew that. 

He was snapping out of pure consideration for you and comfort. Deep down, he knew that you were hurting and in no condition to be there, but that didn't stop his temperament from clocking out for a moment. 

He saw the dejected look on your face, the softness creeping back into his features. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Getting mad at you wouldn't make you listen to him, he knew that, but he still wanted to try and convince you.

"Please, just go back to the hotel. I'm worried about you, you know?" Charles said, hoping that by revealing his feelings, it might incline you to listen to him. "I'll make sure all of your work is done, I promise. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"But I've got so much to do, and I don't want to force someone else to work that I can-" 

"No, don't tell me you can do it. You can't do it. And I won't let you," Charles cut you off, squeezing your hand. "I'll take you back, make sure you're comfy, and I will have it all taken care of." he repeated.

For once, you were actually considering doing what he said. Your body was crying out for you just to retire to your bed for the remainder of the day and just rest. Sleep off the sickness and come back to work your usual self. 

There was the problem of your work, but you truly did trust that Charles would have it taken care of. He wasn't the kind of guy to make promises that he couldn't keep, and he would make sure your work got done on time and as it was supposed to be done. 

He took your silence as a yes, since you'd usually give him attitude if you were refusing his requests. He hated seeing you like this: tired, sick and downright dejected. A small part of him was screaming at him to just wrap you up in his arms and take care of you until you were back to your usual self.

In some ways, you being like this hurt him too. He didn't like it when you pushed yourself this far and risked your own health and wellbeing just for the sake of a job. Yes, he did admire it, but his dislike for it heavily out-weighed his recognition of the trait. 

"When was the last time you ate something? And don't bother lying to me," he sternly asked, and you knew it wasn't time to try and fool him with a clearly false answer.

"Yesterday. Well, more specifically, last night." you quietly told him, his eyes searching your face for any hint of deception. Yet, he found nothing but sincerity, and the pointed look in his eyes mellowed out once again. 

"And what did you have?"

"Just some soup and crackers from room service," you told him, and the sigh he let out was audible and slightly disappointed. 

"Jesus Christ... you're running on fumes," he mumbled, "How much did you sleep last night?" Charles asked, even though he could tell it wasn't much from your sluggish posture and dark under eye circles. 

"I can't tell you how much exactly but it wasn't much at all," you told him, now actually looking forward to going to bed for the rest of the day. 

"Come on, we're going. I will sort everything," he reassured, standing from his seat and offering a hand out to you. You took his hand, letting him help you up. Charles felt a small pang of satisfaction ripple through him when you allowed him to assist you. 

Silently, he led you out of the paddock and to the parking lot, where he navigated you over to his car and sat you down in it. You were slightly worried about getting fired for just randomly leaving, but if Charles asked Fred, pretty much anything was possible. 

The car ride was wordless while he manoeuvred through the streets, until he pulled up in a spare parking space near the hotel. Charles helped you out of the car and all the way up to your room. 

Now that he was close up to you, he saw how gaunt your expression was. He really didn't want to just leave you here to fend for yourself, since he didn't think you had the strength or energy to do so properly. 

"Can I come in with you?" he asked once you had reached the door to your room. You nodded, unlocking the door and gesturing him inside. To say that you had been in such a state, the room was in fairly good order. 

You hadn't made the bed, which was understandable given how bad your morning must have been, but the rest of the room was relatively clean. "You sit, I'll get you something to change into," he told you, walking up to the wardrobe. 

Opening it, it was mostly just your teamwear since you were only there for work and wouldn't have the time for much tourism. Rifling through your clothes, he found a soft pair of shorts and one of your Ferrari hoodies that he thought looked comfy enough. 

Turning around, he saw you already shuffled under the covers and sinking into the pillows. "You comfy?" he smiled, the sight of you lead there making his heart beat a little quicker. He really didn't want to leave you here - he wanted to stay by your side where he could make sure you were OK.

"Arms up," he softly said, helping you to sit up. "Can I?" he requested, asking for your permission as his hands hovered over the buttons of your polo. You nodded, and he quickly unbuttoned them and pulled the shirt off over your head.

If he wasn't focused on how sick you were, he would be practically salivating at how stunning you were, but now wasn't the time for that, and he understood. You were vulnerable, and he would be pretty damn pissed with himself if he allowed himself to think like that.

Pulling the hoodie on over your body, he reached a hand around your neck to pull your ponytail out. "I'll let you do those yourself," he gently chuckled, placing the shorts next to you and facing away from you around to give you some privacy. 

Charles heard the sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric, finally followed by the sound of you shimmying back under the covers. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to you. 

"No, no, I should be good," you told him, and Charles wasn't buying it for a second. It was at that point where the part of him that was compelling him to stay by your side and take care of you, protect you, love you won out. 

"You do realise that I'm not going anywhere?" 

"Charles, no, you're busy and-"

"Sweetheart, no. You need me, they'll be able to do it, I'm sure," he told you, and when you didn't argue back, he really grew concerned. Even when you were sick, you were normally able to bite back and give him some sass back. 

The fact that you had just accepted your fate worried him, even if he was relieved that he wouldn't have to try and convince you again. "I'll get you a water and some medicine, and then I'll sit here for the rest of the day or until you get better. Whichever happens first," he told you. 

Charles didn't miss the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, and he was glad that he could bring a bit of brightness to your day. Disappearing into the bathroom, he filled up a glass with water and rummaged around in the cabinets for some paracetamol. 

"Now you're going to take these, and then you're going to sit back and rest and let me dote on you."  he said with a slightly teasing tone, handing you the two small, white pills and watched as you popped them into your mouth before lifting the glass of water to your lips and encouraging you to take a sip. 

Once you had drank around half of the glass, Charles left it on the bedside table. "I want you to try and get some sleep, OK?" he said.

"Yeah, sure," you agreed, snuggling down into the covers. He hated having you just lie there when he felt that you needed his physical support as well as his emotional support. Just getting to hold you would surely make you feel better, and him too.

"Hey sweetheart?"

"Yeah? You OK?" you asked, and he couldn't help but grin. Even when you were feeling horrendous, you were still making sure he was OK. 

"I'm fine, yeah. Can I just... can I hold you? Or hug you? Or anything? I just feel so useless," he mumbled, instantly feeling like an idiot. But, before he could get ahead of himself, you responded. 

"Be my guest," you told him. Charles moved under the covers and then next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, gently tugging you towards him to that you could rest your head on his chest. 

You could hear the steady pound of his heartbeat, and it was a very soothing sound. Charles let out a sigh of contentment, glad that he was able to provide some semblance of comfort. He felt your weight against him as you relaxed, meaning he was doing his job right. 

Despite you feeling no where near 100%, he was glad that he could be the person who you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with and the person that would take care of you. You trusted him, and that was more than enough.

Plus, he'd be happy with cuddles anyday, whether you were sick or not.  

A/N - Hey loves! Hoping you're all doing well! I do have a little thing for the 5 year anniversary of Charles' 2019 Monza win, but it is nothing special. It is just a lil ol' something that I whipped up. Not really a story, but hey. It'll do. Have a wonderful day/night!💖

|masterlist|

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Benny when you come to him for help

"Ben?" You call out, rapping your knuckles on the door frame. You held your other arm flush to your chest, trying to ignore the searing pain coming from your shoulder.

Knocking on the door again. You didn't know if he was home or out with the guys. You just knew where his house was and that you needed help.

"Hang on a damn minute!" He yelled from inside. Clearly irritated at the disturbance at such a late hour. You breathed a sigh of relief that he was home.

"Benny please let me in." You called, glancing out into the night behind you.

"Y/N?" His heavy footsteps picked up in speed and he yanked open the door.

Practically barging past him, you stumble into the entrance way of the house.

"I'm so sorry Ben. I didn't have anywhere else to go?"

"How about a hospital? What the fuck happened to you." He looked you over, taking note of the cuts on your face and the way you held your arm.

"Don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough. Why did you come here? Frankies' is closest to you."

"You told me I could come here if I needed to. For safety."

"Yeah but that was about- oh. Wait he did this to you?" The realisation dawned on him and he felt a wave of anger roll over him.

"I'm sorry. I just needed to get away from him, and he doesn't know where you live. Among other reasons. I would have gone to Frankie but Sam's not even a month old yet, and you don't have a baby."

"He's looking for you? To what? Have another go at beating you senseless."

"His exact words were a little more colourful and descriptive."

"Right... You need to sit down so I can clean you up. And then start over and tell me exactly what happened."

You took a seat on the very comfortable sofa. Perching yourself on the edge of the cushion. Not wanting to stain them with any dirt or blood.

Benny came back with his well stocked first aid kit. Constantly in use from his training and fighting injuries.

"Start from the top. I'm all ears." Benny prompted you as he took a seat on the footstool and started taking out some antiseptic wipes.

"There really isn't all that much to explain. I came home from work. Showered and the next thing I know he's on me like I've just told him I fucked someone in our bed. Which I hadn't by the way. Apparently some of his buddies saw me at your fight yesterday. Made up something about it and played into his jealousy about it. Nothing I could say way going to make it better."

"Fuckin' knew it. I told Will this would happen. Tell me you're not going back to him."

"Do I look brain damaged Ben? I'm not the girl that going to 'fix' him. The second he put his hands on me I was done. There's no going back from this."

A comfortable silence followed, only cut by the occasional sharp intake of breath from you as Benny cleaned you up.

"Good. 'Kay, I've cleaned up that busted eyebrow and your lip. You're lucky you don't need stitches for your hand. Can you move your shoulder or are taking a trip to the ER?"

"Ben I can't afford it. But it fuckin' hurts. I can move my wrist?" You offered, hoping it was helpful information.

Letting out a sigh, he placed down the cloth he had, "Ive fixed a fair few dislocated shoulders but if it's broken were going to have to. Can I see?"

You nodded, shifting to face him side on. He moved your hoodie to the side and his fingers prodded along you collarbone. Whimpering as he got to a particularly sore spot.

"What's the verdict nurse Miller?" You teased.

"I don't think it's broken, how this that happen exactly."

"He uh, kicked it."

Ben let out a puff of air, signaling his disgust, but continued feeling along your shoulder, "yep that's dislocated. I can put it back but I need to do it properly and quickly."

You nodded, Benny moved so he was sat behind you. Wrapping an arm around yours, he took hold of your upper arm. "Okay, what do I need to do, can you give me-"

With a sickening pop, he jolted your shoulder back into place. Letting out a horror movie worthy scream. You lurched away from him and blinked at him in shock.

"I'm sorry. It's best to just do it, warning makes it worse."

"Holy shit, that fucking hurt." You puffed out breaths of air trying to slow your heart. "But thank you."

"Try not to move it too much."

"Okay. Ben I'm sorry for just turning up here."

"None of that thank you very much. I'm just flattered you felt safe enough to come to me. I meant what I said."

"Of course I feel safe with you. You've always looked after me like I'm yours."

There was a tense silence for a moment after that as you both started at each other. Ben cleared his throat and shifted himself off the sofa.

"I'm going to grab you some painkillers. I bet you're starting to ache now."

He was right, you felt like you'd been put through a hydraulic press six different ways. Returning with a glass and a hand outstretched with a few pills in it. You gratefully took them. Downing the pills and the water easily.

"If you just drugged me I'm going to be so mad."

He let out a chuckle, "come on. If I was like that I wouldn't have wasted a good first aid kit on you. That shits expensive."

"The way you go through them yeah I bet they are." You both chuckled at the thought.

"Okay I sho-" You started to say but we're cut off by the sound a car pulling up and the engine turning off.

You heard a car door close outside. Making you freeze.

"Go upstairs now. Don't come back down until I say it's clear." Benny whisper shouted. He quickly tidied up the first aid kit and shoved it under a blanket on the sofa.

"Now!" He urged you when you didn't move.

Jumping into action you, ran upstairs, hovering on the landing.

Four sharp thumps to the front door had your blood running cold. How the fuck had he found you here?

"Will? What the hell do you want this late?"

"Is Y/N here?"

"Why?"

"I'll take that as a yes then."

"It's okay Y/N it's just Will." Benny called up to you.

Tentatively you came back downstairs. Seeing the two brothers stood side by side.

When Will locked eyes on you, he strode over and pulled you into a hug. He had always been the less affectionate of the two. So it surprised you as he rubbed your back.

"Thank god you're okay. He's been down the bar bragging about what he did to you."

"What? She's lucky she didn't have to go to the hospital." Benny seethed, "man I really want to go down there."

"Bet he missed out some bits. He was cradling his balls as I ran off."

The two of them snorted in unison, "you better have."

"Of course I did. He wouldn't have stopped. Fucker was trying to kill me."

"Well he's never gonna get the chance to again." Benny affirmed, gritting his teeth.

[estellan0vella]

Doodles Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

You return to the tattoo parlour, balancing a tray of coffee cups and a bag of pastries. The aroma of fresh coffee mingles with the scent of antiseptic and ink, a peculiar but comforting mix that you've grown to love. You push open the door with your hip and are greeted by the familiar sight of Gojo lounging on the couch, Geto perched on the edge, and Toji leaning against the counter. They glance up as you enter, offering a mix of smirks and lazy waves.

"Coffee's here," you announce, setting the tray down on the table.

"Finally," Gojo drawls, reaching for his cup. "I was starting to think you'd run off and left us to fend for ourselves."

"I wish," you retort, handing out the drinks. "Where's Sukuna?"

"Office," Geto replies, taking his cup with a grateful nod.

"Sleeping Beauty needed his nap," Toji adds with a chuckle.

You smile, picturing Sukuna sprawled out on the couch in his office, one arm draped over his eyes. "I'll go check on him."

Balancing the last cup of coffee, you head towards Sukuna's office. The door is slightly ajar, and as you approach, you hear the faint sound of giggling. You push the door open wider and freeze.

Yuji and Megumi are perched on either side of Sukuna, markers in hand, drawing elaborate patterns on his face. Yuji has a red marker and is carefully colouring a heart on Sukuna's cheek, while Megumi, armed with a blue marker, adds swirls and stars to his forehead. Sukuna, deeply asleep, is blissfully unaware of the artistic masterpiece being created on his face.

Your mind races. Should you wake him up? Stop the kids? Scream? Laugh? You have no idea what to do. Instead, you stand there, mouth slightly open, until Yuji notices you.

"Y/N/N!" he whispers loudly, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Look what we did!"

"I see that," you say, voice hushed but incredulous. "Where did you get the markers?"

"Gojo let us use them," Megumi whispers, as if that explains everything.

You glance back at the trio in the other room. Gojo, Geto, and Toji are watching with poorly concealed amusement. None of them made any attempt to stop the kids. You shake your head, sighing.

"Okay, you two, let's go. Quietly," you instruct, ushering the boys out of the office. They giggle as they sneak past you, and you close the door softly behind them.

You return to the main room, where Gojo is practically vibrating with suppressed laughter. "You just let them draw all over his face?"

"We thought it would be funny," Gojo replies, grinning. "And it was."

"Very mature," you say, rolling your eyes. "You know he's going to wake up soon, right?"

As if on cue, a loud "What the fuck?" echoes through the parlour. You all freeze, and then Gojo and Geto dissolve into laughter, Toji smirking.

"You're all so brave," you mutter, as they push you towards the office. "Why me?"

"You're the best at calming him down," Geto insists, still chuckling.

"Yeah, go use those girlfriend superpowers," Gojo adds, winking.

Toji gives you a nudge. "Suck him off if you have to."

You glare at them as you walk towards the office. You can hear Sukuna's muttered curses and the sound of him moving around in the office. Taking a deep breath, you open the door and step inside, closing it behind you.

Sukuna is standing in front of the small mirror on his desk, staring at his reflection with a mix of disbelief and irritation. His face is a canvas of colourful doodles, and his eyes snap to you as you enter.

"Hey, Kuna," you say, trying to keep your voice light. "How was your nap?"

He points to his face. "What the fuck is this?"

"Uh, art?" you offer, giving him a sheepish smile. "The kids got creative."

His glare softens slightly as he looks at you, but he's still clearly annoyed. "And you just let them?"

"I didn't even know until I got back," you explain. "But, hey, it's washable. We can clean it off."

Before Sukuna can respond, Gojo's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Put in the good work, Y/N, you're saving us all!"

Toji follows up with, "No teeth unless he's into that!"

Sukuna's expression shifts from irritation to something more dangerous. You can almost see the murderous thoughts forming in his mind.

"Ignore them," you say quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "They're just being idiots."

"You think?" he growls, but he doesn't pull away from your touch.

Geto's voice joins in, "Show him who's the real boss, Y/N!"

"And don't forget to swallow!" Gojo adds, laughter in his voice.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, and you step closer, trying to distract him. "They're trying to rile you up."

"They're succeeding," he mutters, but he's looking at you now, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes.

"I'll help you clean it off," you offer, reaching for a cloth and some cleaning solution from his desk. "Sit down."

He sits, still grumbling, and you gently start wiping away the marker. "You know," you say, trying to lighten the mood, "you make a pretty good canvas."

He snorts, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You're lucky I love you."

"I know," you reply, smiling back. "And I love you too, even with marker all over your face."

Gojo's voice calls out again, "Y/N, you still alive in there?"

"Yeah, she hasn't killed me yet," Sukuna shouts back, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, keep up the good work!" Geto hollers. 

"Only because you're scared of him," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Sukuna chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "They should be."

"Can't argue with that," you agree, finishing up the last of the marker removal. "There, all better."

He stands, looking in the mirror again. "Thanks, babe."

"Anytime," you reply, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Now, go deal with those idiots."

You step out of the office with Sukuna, your fingers entwined with his as you walk towards the front desk. Yuji and Megumi are already there, giggling and playing with their toys. You lift them both onto your lap, balancing them with one arm while grabbing your coffee with the other. The kids snuggle into you, their laughter bubbling up as they see Sukuna approaching the trio.

Gojo, Geto, and Toji exchange wary glances, trying to maintain their innocent expressions. "All clean?" Gojo asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

"For now," Sukuna replies, his voice dripping with ominous intent. "Now, who's first?"

The trio scrambles, but Sukuna's quicker. He grabs Toji by the collar and hauls him back, planting him firmly in a chair. "Hold still," Sukuna growls, pulling out a black marker from his pocket.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Toji protests, but he's laughing, clearly enjoying the chaotic turn of events.

Sukuna grins wickedly as he starts drawing on Toji's face, the crude outline of a penis taking shape on his cheek. "Just adding a little artwork. Sit still."

Gojo and Geto can't stop laughing, even as they try to make a run for it. Sukuna is relentless, though. With Toji marked, he quickly corners Geto next, who throws up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I give up!"

"Good choice," Sukuna says, drawing another crude image on Geto's forehead. The laughter continues, echoing through the parlour as Sukuna finally rounds on Gojo, who's been trying to hide behind a potted plant.

"Come on, Sukuna, you don't have to do this," Gojo pleads, but he's grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh, but I do," Sukuna replies, pouncing on Gojo and quickly drawing yet another obscene image on his face as Gojo screams. The room is filled with laughter, yours included, as you sip your coffee and watch the chaos unfold.

Yuji and Megumi are practically bouncing with excitement, their giggles infectious. "Suku drew on their faces!" Yuji exclaims, clapping his hands.

"That he did, Yuji," you say, ruffling his hair. "Isn't it funny?"

Megumi nods vigorously. "Funny!"

Once Sukuna's done, he stands back to admire his handiwork. The three men sit there, each with a ridiculous drawing on their faces, their expressions a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

Sukuna turns to you, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Well, babe, what do you think?"

You raise your coffee cup in a mock salute, grinning from ear to ear. "Beautifully done, Kuna. A masterpiece."

The room erupts in laughter again, and even Sukuna chuckles, his earlier annoyance completely gone. The kids cheer, and you feel a warmth spread through you as you watch everyone having fun together.

"Alright, you three," Sukuna says, crossing his arms and towering over Gojo, Geto, and Toji. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before letting the kids use me as their canvas."

"To be fair, it was pretty funny," Toji says, trying to look innocent despite the crude drawing on his face.

"Yeah, you did look kinda cute with the whiskers," Geto adds, winking at you.

Gojo just laughs, slapping Sukuna on the back. "Consider it payback for all the times you've messed with us."

Sukuna rolls his eyes but can't hide his grin. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't make it a habit."

As the laughter dies down, you take another sip of your coffee, savouring the moment. Life at the parlour is never boring, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1

[blueblurchronicles]

A full moon rising

After much delay, I proudly present the first story, I hope you enjoy and a reminder that requests are open *please read rules pinned* anyway enjoy !! :D Word count:1K

You were on vacation in sunny apotos trying to soak in the feeling of the sand in your hands and eat the many delicious foods on offer, but you couldn't really relax, you were worried about sonic...

He left not long ago to stop Eggman on his latest attempt to stop him and conquer the world, and this time it seemed that he had to travel much further up into space.

"Sonic, come on let me help you" You pleaded to him, normally you did help him out with Eggman's shenanigans but this time Sonic wasn't budging.

"Y/n, I understand but Eggman is unpredictable... Well as unpredictable as he can be" He chuckled softly.

He knew you were worried for him, but he walked up and held out a fist for a fist bump. "Come on, don't leave me hanging" He flashed the familiar smirk, making you smile and gave him his fist bump.

But that was almost 4 days ago, and during the second day of your vacation, that was when things got weird. You have been hearing reports of the planet broken up into 6 pieces and some form of creatures roaming around at night. That made you very scared, and without sonic here to help you... you were on your own.

So the next 2 days you tried to enjoy the vacation as much as you could and when you saw a glimpse of the sun setting you rushed quickly back to your hotel room and stayed put for the night as if the creatures were anything but true. But one night you stayed out for too long and didn't even notice when you got outside and it was dark.

"Oh no..." You quickly rushed back to your room, but a growl made you freeze, you looked around frantically to find the source of the growl. Your eyes widened in horror as you came across a giant creature. You screamed as you began to run, more creatures on your tail as you tried to cut them off and hide.

It worked for a little while and made your way back to your hotel, only to just barely make it into the courtyard when you were cornered by all the creatures, big and small.

"Help me !!!" You cowered in fear. Just when things became grim for you, you heard a loud howl echoing in the streets of the city.

A dark shape leapt from the rooftops, you couldn't see it as it was right under the full moon. landing heavily between you and the creatures. The figure was familiar... yet different. It had broad, muscular arms. claws that gleamed in the moonlight and fur bristling in untamed turfs.

"Hang tight, I'll handle these guys" It spoke in a deep gruff voice.

You quickly ran for cover as it began to fight, lunging its claws at the nearest creature. "That's one down"

You could hear everything going on in the background as items were tossed and broken, the creature's growls of defeat and the thuds of the figure that saved you. After the fight, the creatures then dissipated into the misty shadow, now no more.

"Hey !! You can come on out now, It's safe. They're all gone" The figure called out to you if you were still here.

Your legs were like jelly as you began to slowly shuffle out from the corner. "Th... Thank you..." You then perked up when you saw the familiar figure. "SONIC !!" You smiled and rushed to him, but the smile slowly disappeared when you saw a completely new look. "Ummm... New colour ??"

"Yeah.... Long story..." He sighed, looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers. "You know me, never a dull moment" He quickly turned his attention to you. "You okay ?? They didn't hurt you did they ??" He looked all over.

"No... they just spooked me... I'm more worried about you, what happened ??"

"It's... kinda complicated, some crazy stuff went down with me and Eggman and now from what I can tell when the sun goes down I turn into... this..." He sighed softly and sort of sadly. But he looked up at you and flashed the familiar grin.

"But I'm still me though" He raised his fist for a fist bump, making you smile and gave him his fist bump, yeah he was still sonic.

"Come on, My hotel room is nearby. We can stay there for the rest of the night" You offered.

The two then entered the hotel room, flicking the lights on and relaxing now that the chaos was over. You lay down on the bed as Sonic then sat on a nearby chair. "This... thing... It's got its perks but it's been rough" He looked out at the window and then at you, smiling softly to see that his best friend was ok. "Guess I owe you one huh ??"

You turned your head to him and sat up. "Hey, don't mention it, at best I owe you one. I hear Apotos has some very interesting chilli dogs"

Sonic's eyes lit up, the usual spark shining through the exterior. "Oh now you're talking my language" He rubbed his hands together, he could picture it already, as soon as the sun rose, fresh local chilli dogs in a place as scenic as apotos, making you chuckle when you saw his expression. "We should get some shut eye, goodnight sonic"

"Night y/n"

Soon the sun began to rise, and you fell asleep for the time being as did Sonic. He felt the sharp twinge before being covered in purple smoke he then reverted back to normal. You yawned and woke up and saw him sleeping still. You smiled and woke him up with a good squeeze of a hug.

"What the... woah hey easy there" He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "See ?? Nothing to worry about" He paused, glancing out the window at the colourful sunrise over apotos. Only one thing now on his mind.

"Now, how about those chilli dogs you mentioned"

[winchesterszvonecek]

you got me flowers?

Will 🥺

Flowers - [ Will Halstead ]

Prompt: “You got me flowers?”

Word Count: 976

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

Masterlist | Will Masterlist

It was like Will could sense when you’d had a bad day at work. That he had some sort of alarm go off in his head anytime you so much as felt a hint of stress or frustration. It’s what you loved about him. How caring he was. How he always went above and beyond to make sure your day ended better than how it had gone.

Maybe it was the doctor in him, you didn't know. All you knew was that you had struck gold in terms of the perfect guy and for as long as you both lived, you would never even think of anybody else but him.

You always looked forward to going home, more so now that you had someone waiting for you. Someone who loved you and would do anything to make sure you never forgot that. Some days Will wasn’t there because he was on shift, but even on those days he made sure to leave you a little something special to come home to. Something he knew would make you smile when he couldn’t himself.

However you knew he’d be home today. Waiting eagerly to make you feel better after your God awful day at work, one you were wanting to put behind you as quickly as possible.

The whole way up to your shared apartment you were twitching with excitement, trying your hardest to think of what it might be this time. What little thing he’d prepared for you or which item he bought that might make you smile and the second you unlocked the front door you simply dumped your bag on the floor and beelined for the living room.

Will was sitting on the couch, his back to you and the moment he sensed your presence he jumped. Literally. He was on his feet faster than you could blink, looking all embarrassed as he’d lost track of time and hadn’t finished preparing his surprise for you.

“You’re early.” He babbled out, scratching at the back of his head as you furrowed your brow a little, slowly making your way towards him.

“No I’m not.” You replied, rolling your lips a little as you couldn’t help but smile over his minor fluster. You folded your arms, taking another step forwards to feel your legs press against the back of the couch as you craned your neck to try and see what he was hiding behind his back. “Whatcha got there?”

“Nothing.” Will said casually, leaning his body parallel to yours to stop you from peeking, making you huff a little and pout dramatically. “It’s not ready yet.”

“Oh come on, just let me see.” You whined childishly, pouting again as you clasped your hands under your chin and batted your eyelashes at him. He never could say no when you gave him your best puppy dog eyes, something you abused greatly, and you could tell he was about to break. “Please?”

Sighing, Will ran his hand through his hair, mumbling a faint ‘fine’ which in turn enticed a quiet ‘yay’ to escape your lips in a way that made him smile, his heartwarming over just how downright adorable you got in these moments. He stepped aside, offering you a full view of the bouquet of flowers he had been trying to put together, most of which were still scattered across the coffee table and hadn’t made it into the vase yet.

“You got me flowers?” You said softly, your heart all but bursting in your chest as you rounded the couch, eyes never once leaving the colourful array covering the table.

“I was trying to make you one of those mixed bouquet things.” Will replied, gesturing to the mess behind him. “But it turns out that flower arranging is a lot harder than it looks.”

“Oh, Will.” You breathed out, feeling the slight warmth begin to form in your eyes as you subtly wiped at them.

You didn’t care if they were only flowers. Didn’t care that he’d bought you them plenty of times before. It was more the fact that he’d been trying to put together his own bouquet for you, that really got to you. He didn’t have to do that. He could have gotten a florist to do it, picked a premade one or even grabbed a small bunch from a stand on his way home from work.

But he hadn’t.

Instead he’d gone to all this trouble to, not only gather up all your favourite flowers in your favourite colours, you might add, but he’d spent what seemed to be hours trying to arrange them for you himself. And if that wasn’t love, then you didn't know what was.

“Baby?” Will stepped forward, taking your hand in his and drawing your teary attention away from the mess of flowers. He pulled you gently towards him, his free hand cupping the side of your face the second you were close enough. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect.” You whispered, voice a little shaky as you leaned into his touch. You turned your head a little, placing a soft kiss against the palm of his hand. “You’re perfect.”

“I take it you’re happy with the flowers?” He asked, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he brought you into his arms, allowing you to rest your head on his chest and feel the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath it.

“I’m more than happy.” You sighed contently, and honestly the flowers went forgotten the minute he encapsulated you in his warmth, feeling the touch of his lips atop your head as he kissed you.

You may have loved all the little things he did for you, but pretty much all of the time it was simply Will himself that was capable of making your day one hundred times better than you ever could have asked for.

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[astro-pioneer]

chapstick!

your chapstick is too good to not share with him. 『chuuya, dazai, ranpo, honourable mentions』

chuuya!

didn't even realize it was yours at first

just saw it on the counter and went 'yoink you're mine now'

he thought it was one of his that he forgot he had tbh

it smelled and tasted similar but couldn't recall

your text to him made him realize he was very wrong

"I didn't know it was yours! I just saw it and realized I needed some so I took it." This is embarrassing; all of his subordinates were watching him 'argue' on the phone. "Yes, I understand it was hard to find. I promise I'll find a new one!" His sigh was full of defeat. Some of his men felt a little bad, having experienced the wrath of a significant other. He was already in a losing battle long before it even started.

His face erupted into pink over what you said through the receiver. "I- no! Listen, let me finish this mission and we can continue talking about this when I get home? I'll have a new one with me too, okay?" He can't believe that you called him when he was busy about something as small as chapstick. He'll just have to make it up to you, it seems, huh?

dazai!

menace to all of your items

likes to refer to everything as "our items"

knew exactly what he was doing

he once??? bit your chapstick?? out of nowhere????

loves to fluster you too which so it's a win-win to him

You were just sitting at your desk. You didn't bother anyone so far, did all your work for now, everything. So why, oh why, must the brunet get interested in what you're doing as soon as he sees your tube of chapstick come out of your drawer. "Ah, hey, can I borrow some?" He practically towered over you as he leaned against your desk.

You didn't even have the chance to open it before he started to bug you. However, this wasn't the first time he did this, so you just ignored him. The last time you offered it to him, he didn't even use it; it stayed in his pocket for a week before it took a swim in the river. He pouted when he realized you were still hung up on the last incident. He waited for you to look up after applying it to kiss you. "Vanilla? Good taste." He smugly massaged it into his lips as he left your desk.

ranpo!

makes sure every one you purchase is even mildly related to candy

"if you're applying it all the time at least make it taste like something we'll both enjoy!"

he slowly started to use your chapstick as time went on and he liked it more

got to the point where he'd somehow use the whole thing in a week? sir calm down

you carry two on you at all times now

Ranpo groaned while leaning back in his chair. Atsushi and Kyouka watched him blandly. "(Y/N) is so mean! Who buys a new flavour of chapstick out of nowhere?" He's been whining about the same thing for the past hour. You had to buy an emergency chapstick due to a misplacement of one of them. Ranpo was throwing a fit because he saw the different coloured tint and couldn't believe you decided to not have matching chapstick with him.

"But can you believe that? What about all the memories we had together with the same chapstick? I've been betrayed!" Something rolled off his desk and plopped onto the floor. Everyone in the room deadpanned while Ranpo refused to look. The very same chapstick he was complaining about laid at the bottom of his chair. "Oh."

honourable mentions!

sigma! man remembers every little detail about your favourite chapstick, down to every ingredient - had a mini meltdown in the store when he realized one changed and didn't know if you still wanted it

akutagawa! what's lip care? in all honesty the only time he'll go out of his way to apply it is if you offer it to him or he kisses you when you freshly applied it - wouldn't go out of his way to use anything other than that

[byechristopher]

⠀

In Another Life.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.

Author's note: omg hi, again. You'll soon find out how much I love angst, trauma and just "dark" fics. It's a way to express myself every once in a while. I hope you all like it, if you have any requests in mind, feel free to let me know. I will make it up to you all with some fluff, I promise, lol. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: (not proof-read) this is pure angst, mentions of death, coping with death in general, trauma bonding. If any of this is triggering to you, do not read, please. Have a great day, instead.

Playlist:

It is only 6:00AM and I am up and running, ready to start my long day, although my sluggish gait says otherwise. I always loved waking up so early in the morning – it gave me time to start doing things when people were still sleeping. It is always a struggle to keep myself awake, though.

"I'm outside."

The screen lights up and I can see Chris' name from here – he must be outside already. I sigh and I quickly put my jacket and scarf on, not forgetting my boots, of course. With my bag in my hand, I quickly leave the house, trying to be as quiet as possible so that my mom doesn't wake up.

Chris is waiting in the car, I take a better look at my surroundings – the fog makes it hard for me to see, it's dark and it's cold, and the humidity makes it look like it rained.

"Hey, Chris. Thanks for picking me up." I mumble, he nods with an understanding look on his face. He's got that sickening purple colour under his eyes and his skin is even paler than usual. We match, he looks like a mess, too.

How couldn't he, anyway? It was a difficult day today. It's only been three years and how could we ever forget?

Me and Chris have known each other for a long time. Ever since we were babies – our families were very close. That was until my parents got divorced and we never saw my father ever again; made my mom isolate herself. My father came back one day, asking for forgiveness for leaving like this. Not from my mom, from me. I didn't want to trust him but I still talked to him every now and then. Now, Chris never really liked me and I never really liked him, it's not like we ever had an actual conversation. Before something terrible happened, to the both of us. On the same day. On the same plane. The plane crashed – my father happened to be there and Chris' best friend happened to be there.

We were both devastated so we found ourselves hanging out more than usual – is it called trauma bonding? I think so. That's what we did. Bonded over trauma. Because that's what we needed most; a person who knows and feels what we feel, who goes through the same experience. I don't think it was he healthiest thing to do, but who is really healthy inside on this earth?

"Give me, like.. fifteen minutes. I'll be back, okay?" he says and I give him a reassuring hug, pecking his cheek. I nod, watching him go visit his best friend's grave while I visit my father's.

"I can't believe it's already been three years since you've been gone." I chuckle, making sure everything is clean and the flowers are nicely put in the vase, "right when you were about to actually spend time with me, hm?" I can feel the tears in my eyes, and every time I speak, it's like I'm digging an invisible knife deeper into my heart.

I don't know how long it's been because I'm still cleaning and trying not to think about anything, but I see Chris walking over to me. It's so obvious that he's been crying, but he offers a smile anyway. His nose is red, it's kind of cute.

"You feeling okay?" he wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me a reassuring squeeze. I nod.

"What did I always tell you? Everything happens for a reason." I chuckle, wiping the tears away from my eyes as we walk away, and towards the car.

"I used to hate hearing that. But I believe it now." he nods and clears his throat, "Connor believed it, too." it took him a while to say his best friend's name without crying. I told him that Connor wouldn't be happy to see him crying like this – that was the only way to make him stop.

"I gotta go to work, now. But we'll meet later, yes?" I say, wrapping my arms around his waist, looking up. The combination of the sky, his tears and his pale skin make his eyes go icy blue, I can't help but smile a little bit. He nods and cups my cheeks, bringing me closer to him to give me a soft kiss on the lips.

I'm not sure what me and Chris have going on. We definitely hang out a lot, we kiss, I basically have all of my stuff in his house, we have sex, but we've never said anything about relationship, or anything like that for that matter. We've been going through the most traumatic and difficult experience in our lives, so I feel like we desperately need the affection but we're the only ones who feel the same. So we just.. do stuff together. I try not to think about it too much.

I definitely not want to think about it when I'm in his arms. We're in front of the fireplace, sitting down on the carpet. I'm sitting in between his legs with my back pressed against his chest, and his arms wrap all the way around my shoulders and knees (that are pressed to my chest), keeping me warm.

"I'm so glad to have you here with me, being by my side on this horrible day, every year." he whispers in my ear and I close my eyes.

"So am I. You're making me feel like I'm not as alone as I thought I was." I whisper back and let my head fall on his shoulder, turning my head so that I'm able to look up at him. We sit in silence for a bit.

"I was thinking.. what you always say. Everything happens for a reason. What if.. what if all of this never happened? What if they were both still alive, what if our families kept being this close, what if we kept hating each other.. would we still find a way to be where we are now?" his voice is low and steady, I can see the fire moving in the reflection of his glistening eyes, "or was this tragedy meant to happen for us to find what we wanted in each other?"

I stay silent for a little bit. I've thought about this a million times and every time makes me go crazier than the previous one, "is love supposed to grow in souls and bodies that are filled with so much pain? Because if so, then it's nothing like what they taught us love would feel like."

"Do you think love is what we feel for each other?" he presses a kiss on my warm cheek.

"I don't know." I say truthfully, "I think that we both find shelter in each other's pain. We feel the need to be heard, to be understood, and then we want to hear the other, to understand their pain. To help each other, to be there whenever they might need, to care."

"Isn't that what love is?" he asks innocently, "in its most tragic form?" he looks me in the eyes and smiles softly.

"I suppose so.. yeah.." I say because, indeed, love could also bloom in shattered hearts, it doesn't always have to be flowers and rainbows, "and to answer your question.. I think I would definitely imagine myself loving you, without all of these." my voice is as soft as it can get.

"I would definitely fall in love with you, too." he says, looking into my eyes. And for a moment, I imagine us just like this. In a life where we would be happier. In a life where we would be able to love each other, without anything holding us back, in a life where we could keep the people that we wanted in our lives. In a life where we would have the space and time to express our feelings, understand our feelings.

"So, stay with me forever and even longer than that.." he says and I smile, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck, all the way up to his cheek and lips, "I might be able to become someone who loves you even in the good times."

"That's a promise, then. Because I'm definitely staying, till I'm ready to love you in the good times, too." I smile and slowly turn around to face him this time, wrapping both of my arms and legs around him, like a koala.

He laughs, he's hugging me and kissing me softly, "want me to make you some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please."

⠀

[loz-3]

An Unwilling Operative - Part Two

Pairing: Loki x female reader Word Count: 2,257 Warnings: strong language, forced confinement, violence, forced sedation

Tags in the comments!

Part One

Consciousness ebbed and flowed like the tide. At times, you were only aware of colours and muted sounds, but sometimes a word would swim to the front and make some form of sense to your addled mind. Nothing spoken was ever in English, so while you could recognize spoken language, the meaning was lost. Deep within, you were aware that these were Hydra agents and whatever was happening was probably terrible. Moments passed, maybe hours, even days without respite until your vision cleared and you fully woke.

"What a fucking nightmare…" You sat up and ran your fingers through your hair. Glancing around, you were at home, on the couch, still wearing your work clothes from the day prior. You looked down at your watch, noting it was almost time to get up anyways. You tried to remember what the nightmare was about, but it was gone. Last thing you could recall was bidding Loki goodnight at the end of your coffee date. Scowling to yourself, you got up, scratching absently at a raised bump on your neck. You must have been bitten by something last night.

Once showered and dressed, you made your way to the office, not bothering to stop at the café. It was too overpriced for cheap, shit coffee anyways. You arrived late, which was very atypical for you. The receptionist waved and smiled, as she usually did, but you didn't even look up nor acknowledge her presence. Her face fell as you passed her desk silently, giving you a happy boost of serotonin.

The elevator was crowded, people shuffled to allow you a spot to stand, offering up “good mornings” and other pleasantries. Your scowl deepened and they kept their distance the best they could. ‘How on earth did I put up with this shit before?’ you thought, reflecting on the major shift in your attitude, ‘Fuck this place..’

When the doors opened on your floor, you pushed out of the elevator and set up for the day. Normally, you would organize the returned items, and prep paperwork ahead of the rush, all while cheerfully humming to yourself. Today was different, you felt the shift. It was like your eyes had been opened to reveal the truth about how shit your job was, and how greedy and corrupt S.H.I.E.L.D. was. Based on the tech you had access to, they obviously weren’t spending their government funds on bettering things for agents or the team.

Your day chugged on as you slowly descended into dubitation and general mistrust. As noon rolled around, you opted to close up for lunch. You just stepped out into the hall and locked the door behind you, when you noticed Loki loitering at the corner towards the lobby. With a huge smile, you went straight for him, grabbing the front of his leathers and pulled him down into an aggressive kiss. His eyebrows scrunched together, hesitantly pulling back. "What? I am not good enough for you now?" you spoke harshly, accusatorially, pushing off your grip on him.

He raised both hands in an effort to keep the peace, "Where is this coming from, Y/N?". Concern coloured his tone but he didn't lower his hands. He had noticed something was off earlier, having chalked it up to a bad day, but now he knew for sure that something was wrong. "We were starting slow, you did not want to rush…"

"Ah, of course! It's all my fault then!" You got right up in his face, arms crossed.

Loki lowered his hands to his sides, making sure to not touch you, "I did not say that…"

“But you thought it! ‘Stupid little Midgardian, couldn’t possibly know what she wants’!”

He sighed, gently placing a hand on each of your shoulders, “Please, listen to me…I..”

You cut him off, "Maybe you should just mind your own fucking business, if you're going to be like that." You turned your back on him and threw off his hands, striding part way down the hall before rounding back, "Know what? You and your massive fucking ego can fuck right off. Don't bother with tech requests anymore, I'll just get them sent directly to your room… saves me having to look at your narcissistic fucking face."

His jaw dropped in shock at your outburst, but he quickly composed himself, "I take my leave then." His eyes were steel as he headed around the corner, jamming the elevator button with enough force to crack the plastic. Your words had cut him deeper than you knew, but true to his nature, he buried the hurt.

You continued to pace the hall, a twinge of guilt flooded into your heart. '…I've never spoken to him like that before…' You thought, shaking your head in an attempt to organize your feelings, '…no..no! That's on him for leading me on!'. You retreated back to your office, slamming the door behind you. "What a dick…" muttering to yourself, you opened the shutters to the empty hallway.

Finally your day in this hellscape of an office was over. You slammed the gate closed, swiftly locking it and the door behind you as you swept from the building. You didn't encounter anyone on your way out, nor did you hope to. The goal was home and a bucket of whatever drink you had at there. Which, if you were honest with yourself, probably wasn't much. You walked quickly down the street, pausing only to glare at the little coffee shop on the way. "What a dump," you muttered under your breath, "and what a shit date THAT was…". Shaking your head to push out the memory, you hurried along, arriving at your door shortly. You stalked up the stairs to your apartment, noting the deadbolt was unlocked but not really caring that much. "If there's someone in here, you might as well just fuck off. I'm not in the mood for this today."

A man stepped into the light from your living room, leaning against the door frame, "My, my… aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" His grin was ominous, growing more sinister as you rolled your eyes at him and flipped him off.

"I say again… you can fuck off."

"But we have an offer for you, my dear." A second man stepped out from the hall to your right, you hadn't even noticed him at first so you stepped away in shock. He made no further move, however, allowing you to relax a bit.

You turned towards the first man, shifting your hands to rest on your hips, "What kind of 'offer'?" Just as the words passed your lips, a wave of déjà vu hit. You frowned, bringing a hand up to press against your brow, confusion ringing in your head. The man in front gave the other a quick nod and he grabbed a hold of your arms, allowing the other to inject something into your neck. "What the fu…"

The chemical in the syringe doesn't knock you out completely, but makes you very easy to maneuver. The two men escort you to the couch, speaking to each other in a language you don't understand. You are plopped down hard onto the middle cushion, staring up at the men. The first, wearing a dark jacket with a Hydra insignia, crouched down and grabbed your face roughly, "I need you to listen, we are here to help you…" You tried to nod, but the grip under your chin didn't allow movement, he carried on, "дальний, обзор, иль, винить"

At the last word he uttered, you felt your confusion melt and the whisper of the memory was gone. "I just work in a office, I'm not sure what I could do for you… especially after you broke into my apartment…"

He chuckled darkly, "And we apologize for that. We're the good guys here! Your 'employer', well, they're a front corporation. Every conflict, every war in history was started by them.. for profit. You had wanted to help people, but now you sit in a tiny room, under constant surveillance, giving their living weapons all the help they need to destroy and murder." His compatriot nodded along, somehow pushing those intrusive thoughts home within your mind.

"I…did. I do!" You pulled yourself forward on the couch, urgently grabbing at the hand he had dropped from your face, "What do I need to do?"

When you return to work the next day, you are armed with a pair of tiny flash drives. The first one, once inserted into any computer at S.H.I.E.L.D, would eventually break through their security systems and install a program that essentially would open a data tunnel for Hydra. After a few hours, you'd be able to switch out the drives and the second one would transmit all data via the latent tunnel program.

You thankfully avoided meeting anyone on your route to your station. The last thing you needed was more stupid conversations with your idiot co-workers. Once you clocked in and started your day, you popped in the first of the two flash drives.

Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to you, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security system was far more advanced than Hydra had anticipated and the attempt on breaking in got flagged immediately.

"What in God's name is happening?" Nick Fury stormed around his desk to confront the agent standing in his doorway. "What do you mean, 'we have an issue'?" "Sir.." the agent began, stuttering as Fury's good eye glared down at him, "Sir, we had a breach in the digital security sector but we don't know where the anomaly is originating from, aside from within the complex on level five." "That's most definitely an issue then." "Yes sir… we've managed to lock down the floors' server access and have isolated the program, so it thinks it's working properly." The agent stepped back as Fury swept from the room and strode to the main security terminal. Every camera had been pulled up on the screen and he could easily see that there was only a few staff currently on duty on level five. 'Now we wait…' he thought. Someone would eventually make a move that gave them away. Squinting at the screen, he noted that everyone on the floor were veteran staff. Why on earth would one of them sabotage S.H.I.E.L.D.? He shook his head, not giving in to the thoughts of having a traitor in the mix.

A few hours passed. Finally the first flash drive had finished its task, the little light on it had changed from blinking red to solid blue. You gripped the drive and pulled it out of the computer, dropping it into your pocket for destruction later. Slipping the other drive out, you leant forward and gently inserted it into the USB plug. Suddenly the gate on your window slammed shut.

Shit.

Rushing to the window, you found it was locked externally. Same with the door out into the hallway and the door back into the tech storage/repair area. 'Shit shit SHIT!' You were trapped…just like the rat you were.

As if your situation couldn't get any worse, you heard the click of something engaging beyond your sight and a yellow mist slowly began to descend from the sprinkler system. You pulled your shirt over your face and covered your mouth, knowing that nothing good ever came from inhaling mystery chemicals. Huddling in the corner of the room, you tried to avoid the mist but it was no use. Soon the whole space was hazy from the gas and your vision faded to black.

Now you were…here…wherever here was.

This place…as it turned out, was a very bright, very sterile-feeling square room with a single low slung cot and an awfully flat pillow in one corner. The rest of the space was windowless, colourless, and bleak. A large door took up most of the far wall, opposite the cot, and there was a little camera above the door frame. It was also very quiet. Most definitely a S.H.I.E.L.D. holding cell of some sort.

When you had awoken from unconsciousness moments ago, your body was curled up on that cot, facing the bare wall. Every muscle, ever fibre of your existence hurt. It was like a truck had rammed headlong into a tree, and you were that tree. 'Ugh, what the hell…' your emotions flitted between panic, hysteria, and pure rage, 'Now, how can I get out of this place?'

Glancing down, you realized your normal clothes were gone…replaced with a horrible grey-coloured jump suit. The shoes were plain white slip-on style and no socks. Very minimalist but at least they let you wear something. Being naked would have made this little adventure of yours so much worse. You pulled on the door…it didn't budge. Slamming your fists on the metal, you growled in frustration, knowing you were in a ton of trouble.

Turning your attention to the camera, you asked aloud "Well, what the fuck do we do now?". The light on the camera flickered once, as if it was trying to reply but no voice accompanied it. You sank down to the floor, back against the wall and waited. Knowing S.H.I.E.L.D, it was only a matter of time before someone came to question you.

Notes: I'm so sorry for this portion, I had to end it on a hard note but a third part (maybe the final?) will be up early next week!

дальний, обзор, иль, винить - Russian (further, overview, il, blame)

Part Three

[changingplumbob]

Just a note to say Drusilla is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns.

Glenn walked over to the large tower. Jackson and Coleman had really made all those bricks on top of the ones for the houses? No wonder they were so cranky, it was a lot of work. Expecting the inside to be plain stone he was pleasantly surprised to see it furnished in a similar fashion to the living spaces of the houses with wood panels on the walls, a lot of books, and some comfy couches.

Glenn: Ummm, Drusilla? Are you... here?

The response came from somewhere above him.

Drusilla: For you, I suppose so, if you have something to offer. Up the ladder

Glenn turned and noticed the ladder leading upwards. Well he hadn't got his workout in today so he supposed this would have to count. Testing how fast he could climb he reached the top easily and pulled himself on to the floor.

Drusilla: My time has a price Glenn, what do you want

Glenn: It's not me specifically, well I guess it is, but Phoebus said I should see you about learning some spells

Drusilla: *scoffs* You think you can manage what I do

Glenn: I don't actually know what you do

Drusilla: A lot, I've been at this a long time. How about necromancy

Glenn: Oh, no, I don't fancy bringing anyone back from the afterlife

Drusilla: *sighs* Why does everyone think that's what necromancy means? It's about communicating with spirits of the dead, completely different to reanimation

Glenn: Do you... reanimate stuff?

Drusilla: Some of the spirits enjoy a taste of life. For example, if a bird breaks it's neck I can make it a stable house for a spirit for up to a week

Glenn: Right, well, I don't think I'll be trying that out

Drusilla: Reading minds of others? It can be incredibly useful and often far easier than talking

Glenn: Uh, I'm going to say no again. I do actually enjoy talking

Drusilla: *huffs* What do you actually want to do then Glenn? I don't have time to figure it out for you

Glenn: Phoebus said you're the best at mischief magic, is there some kind of magic trick you can teach me? To keep me safe if I decide not to stay here

Drusilla: Why would I teach a trick? Although... I suppose some kinds of illusion spells could be helpful...

Glenn: What do you mean

Drusilla: What are the walls made of Glenn

Glenn: Uh, bricks on the outside, a lot of bricks. Then wooden paneling for the interior walls

Drusilla: Wrong. They are completely brick

Glenn: But the panels-

Drusilla: There are no panels Glenn. They're a self sustaining illusion I cast. I could teach you something similar, how to make it look like something is there or more useful, how to hide something from sight

Glenn: If it's not too dangerous

Drusilla: So long as you don't hide a dragon you're fine. Now, my fee

Glenn: Fee?

Drusilla: For my time. I'm doing some research on alternate universes. How they may interact, if there are ways to see others, contact alternate me's, that sort of thing. Heartbreak has been in short supply around here so I'll borrow some of yours, it can be a useful ingredient

Glenn: You'll borrow my heartbreak?

Drusilla: It's tied to you, so I'll just borrow a bit of you. Now, I best use it right away so you stay here and finish this gem for me

Glenn: Wait you're charging me and expecting me to do something for you?

Drusilla: If you ever want your hair colour back then yes

Glenn: What do you mean my hair colour?

Drusilla: An integral part of you is your hair, it holds a good portion of your essence and therefore the heartbreak. I've borrowed the colour

Glenn: Wait, are you saying-

Drusilla: Your hair is black right now? Yes

Glenn: But- but- I didn't feel anything

Drusilla: I'm just that good

Glenn: But I love my green hair! It makes me me, and looks good

Drusilla: Then I guess you'd better get on with the task I set if you ever want it back

Glenn: You can't just steal stuff like that

Drusilla: *scoffs* Maybe you can't but I assure you, I can. Don't worry, the spirits will tell me when you're done, then I'll return the colour

Glenn: But I don't know anything about gem carving

Drusilla: That sounds like a you problem. No time to learn like the present Glenn

Glenn watched Drusilla depart and felt his heart sink. They may be powerful but something told him he should stay clear of Drusilla in future if he could.

Drusilla: *yelling* That's not very nice

Damn, they did read minds.

Previous ... Next

[starry-nights-17]

Just wanted to say Happy Christmas to you all and leave this here. A short festive story, set in the canon world but sort of AU (in that Ian is living with Clayton).

*Mickey breaks into the wrong house....but maybe it was the right house after all 🤔

(Some derogatory language ahead, not mine, all Mickey!)

----

Christmas was just around the corner, meaning Terry was working them harder than normal. And by work, he meant stealing. Breaking and entering.

Mickey was the perfect burglar. Quick, quiet and small enough to squeeze through tight windows. Tonight's target, a fancy West Side house, which featured a large expensive looking tree in the front room. At the base of it, was a pile of exquisitely wrapped presents. Jackpot.

Mickey jimmied open a window at the back of the house, expertly so, given the practice he had. He crept into the connecting living room, eyes darting around and ears on high alert.

Confident that the house was vacant, considering the car that was usually parked out front was gone, he started tossing the packages into a large holdall he brought with him.

"Mickey, what the fuck"

His blue eyes blinked into the darkness, until he eventually made out a shape and spotted familiar red hair and freckles. The Gallagher kid had moved away a year back. His sister Mandy had whined about missing her BFF for weeks, droning on about how he discovered his mom's affair and that the man who raised him wasn't his real dad.

He made a run for it but the kid grabbed his arm, "I can't let you take it Mickey, not all of it anyway".

His voice was soft, those green eyes even softer, an understanding there. Gallagher picked out a few packages and held them out to him.

"Your dad's an asshole".

Mickey felt his eyebrow pull up and his face scrunch up in confusion, "What's it to you, carrot top?"

Ian, that was the kids name, chuckled and took a step back, his face lit up in amusement.

"Just know what he's like, what will happen if you return empty handed. Just take them, I can replace them tomorrow".

"This a trick, you gonna call the cops on me or something?"

"Course not, South Siders don't snitch".

Mickey gestured around and caught Ian's eye, "in case you haven't noticed freckles, we ain't in the South Side".

"Whatever, I'm still fucking South Side Mickey and more than that; I'm still a Gallagher".

Mickey nodded slowly, feeling the kid was being genuine. "Well now I really can't take this shit", he sighed and dropped his bag, "fucking tainted or whatever".

Ian laughed again, a sweet and bright sort of sound that had Mickey's lips curving up at the corners. He didn't know why he was still standing there, hovering, loitering. And at the scene of a crime, although technically he hadn't stolen anything.

"You want a beer or some hot chocolate or something, Clayton, um I mean my Dad and his wife are out, won't be back for hours".

Mickey snorted out a laugh, "you fucking serious, you like retarded or something? I just tried to rob you and now you're offering me hot chocolate?"

Ian grinned and shrugged casually, "not like I haven't stolen shit before. I get it. I know you haven't exactly got a choice Mickey. And," he paused and looked away, almost shyly, "miss the South Side I guess, don't see my family as much as I'd like. Figured you could catch me up on shit, on Mandy".

"That annoying bitch," he joked, "she's still a pain in my ass and a huge slut. There, all caught up freckles".

He turned to leave, feeling awkward now and feeling his cheeks flush with colour as the goofy kid smiled confidently back at him. It was as though he actually liked Mickey's abrupt manner or some shit.

"C'mon Mick, I'll even toss in some marshmallows. I remember you have a sweet tooth".

Mickey raised his eyebrow in a question, "the fuck you know that?"

Ian laughed and started towards what he presumed was the kitchen, "you think I didn't know about all those snickers you swiped from the store?"

Before he registered it, he was walking forward, following him, as if he was a magnet being drawn in that direction.

"You fucking stalking me or something, watching me, kinda creepy man".

His tone was easier and lighter than intended. Shit, he almost sounded like he was dangerously close to flirting.

Ian cocked his head and studied his face for a second before replying, with a wide devilish grin.

"Kinda my job Mick, to keep my eyes on you".

Mickey tried to hide an emerging smile with his hand and was forced to look away, from that intense green gaze. His skin felt electrified and he was sure his cheeks were glowing.

"Well it's not anymore, guess you don't need a job since you moved up in the world".

Ian set a large mug down in front of him, complete with mini pink and white marshmallows floating on top.

"Not so sure I did," Ian paused and seemed thoughtful, "kinda miss it, working, earning money, even miss the fucking ghetto".

Ian laughed dryly and Mickey shook his head at him in disbelief.

"I just mean it's different here, fucking boring and like dad's just trying to make up for lost time so he never yells or says no. Its weird".

"Oh poor you, shit, you don't know how lucky you have it man. Complaining like a spoilt princess about being rich and living in a place like this, where you don't get a black eye every other day".

"You think I don't hear myself Mick. Course I know I sound like a prick. I just don't feel like I belong here. I don't fit in. I don't know how to live this fucking normal life".

"Well, I'd swap places with you any day," he muttered, blowing on the hot chocolate before talking a long satisfying sip. Damn, it tasted good, like proper expensive shit, not that crappy dollar store stuff that masqueraded as "chocolate".

"I'm sorry, I know I suck. I go to a great school and have everything I want. Meanwhile the rest of the Gallaghers are still living in that shithole, with fucking Frank".

"Actually, heard he's shacked up with some rich bitch over on the North Side. Never stops bragging about it in the Alibi".

Ian laughed and shook his head, "course he is. Frank always manages to land on his feet".

"Looks like you take after him in that respect Red, even if he's not your real dad or whatever. Suck it up, you got out. You can make something of yourself. Mandy always said you were smart, so don't waste that education. Go cure cancer or whatever the fuck".

Ian settled down, sitting opposite him, as they both smiled quietly around their mugs. The situation was weird but only in how it wasn't weird, not really. Mickey felt at ease, like he was naturally able to talk with Ian, his usual shyness not present.

"Not really a science geek, believe it or not," Ian joked, an attractive smile on his face again, "more of an English Lit geek".

"You mean like books and shit. Rather you than me pal".

"Wait, you can actually read, Mickey?"

Mickey sat up straight, ready to knock the fuckers teeth down his throat. That was, until he caught sight of Ian's cocky smirk. He flipped him off and felt a smirk of his own creeping up.

"Fucking comedian over here," he muttered, "course I fucking can, dickhead. Might be a Milkovich but doesn't mean I'm a dumb fuck".

"Never thought you were," Ian replied with a gentler smile now and a fondness in his eyes. "Always figured you were smart. And, funny too".

Ians eyes darted away, his lips lowered to the mug again, his cheeks faintly pink.

"Funnier than you anyway," he teased in return, "not that it'd be hard".

"I meant it, I want to help. Don't want you getting into trouble or whatever...with Terry".

Ians eyes appeared sincere and possibly full of concern too. Mickey was surprised, wondering how this kid, who was almost a stranger to him, was genuinely worried about him returning home empty handed.

Then again, he probably witnessed Mickey's battered and bruised face on numerous occasions. Perhaps at the Kash n Grab or at the Milkovich House when he hung out there with Mandy. Likely his sister confessed some harsh home truths to her BFF too. Fuck.

"Can't take your shit Gallagher. It's fine, I'll hit some other place up on the way home".

Ian rose to his feet, taking out his wallet, offering a wad of cash to him.

"The fuck," he stood and swatted his hand away in offence, "don't want your money either; not a fucking charity case. And just cos your whore of a mother fucked some rich prick doesn't make you better than me".

Ians face grew red with anger and he stepped forward, invading his space, "don't fucking talk about her like that Mickey. I know I'm not better than you, never fucking said I was. Just don't want you getting punched in the face, or worse, by that evil psychotic prick. Fuck me, for giving a shit".

Ian shoved him and Mickey shoved him back. Both of their chests heaved up and down, both clearly emotional.

"Shit, I shouldn't have said that about your mom; not like mine was much better. Not cool. I know she had fucking problems or whatever, " he thumbed his nose, stumbling on his words, "just don't like handouts alright, I can take care of myself".

Iam nodded and his expression softened further, "I know you can take care of yourself Mick. Just nice sometimes to let other people help. Not like I can't spare some cash. Please, just let me help, let me feel like all of this," he gestured around, "means something. If it means saving that pretty face from getting another pounding, then its worth it".

Mickey's eyebrow pulled up and a sharp breath left his mouth, "did you just call me fucking....pretty....think its you thats looking for a pounding pal".

Ian smirked and approached him, head cocked to the side, his voice lowered to a whisper.

"Generally I do the pounding...but I'm always open to trying new things".

As if Ian's bold words weren't having enough of a mind-blowing affect on his body, the asshole winked (actually winked) at him.

Mickey opened and closed his mouth like a fish, rendered utterly speechless. Not only was the kid gay but he was openly flirting with Mickey, implying shit; not just about himself but about Mickey too. The giant sized balls on Ian. He was pretty impressed though, considering Mickey could easily be kicking his ass right now. Talk about a risky move.

"I uh, better go"

He mumbled and pointed vaguely in the direction of the door, "Terry...you know...fucking schedules or whatever".

Ian chuckled and stepped forward again. His hand reached out, trailing down his chest; smoothing out the creases on his shirt, and then he was stuffing something in his pocket. Before Mickey could argue, Ian was shutting him up in the most unexpected and unsettling way. By pressing his warm lips against his.

Naturally his reaction was to push him away, which he attempted to do but Ian was stronger than he looked and held his hands at the wrists. Green eyes locked on his, questioning, searching. And somehow Mickey relaxed enough to nod up and down.

There was that predatory smirk again before those lips were on his once more, firmer now, with puprose and determination. But it was a brief and tame kiss, which he was grateful for. Because if Ian tried to take it further, put his hands on him or slipped him the tongue, he wasn't quite sure what would happen. Could end up in a fuck or a fight, Mickey wasn't certain. All that he was certain of, was that his skin was on fire, his heart was thumping wildly and he was breathing harshly.

"Think of it as an advance payment...or a loan," Ian said next, waking him from his haze.

"Huh?"

"You can repay me"

"How the fuck do you expect me to pay your pampered ass back. Piss poor here, remember".

Ian laughed, once again causing an unfamiliar flutter in his chest and Mickey smiled automatically upon hearing the pleasant sound.

"There's other ways to pay me back Mick," Ian replied with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck off, you think cos you kissed me I'm some sort of prostitute...I'm not even gay man".

He almost choked on the lie and judging by Ian's amused expression he wasn't buying it either.

"If you say so. Besides, that's not what I had in mind....but now that you mention it...."

Mickey scratched his eyebrow and flipped him off, barely containing a smile.

"Fine. No sexual favours, got it, " Ian joked, his hands held up in the air, "I just meant you can pay me back by maybe hanging out with me once it a while, that's all".

"You just want me to hang out with you...and you'll basically pay me for it...the fuck is wrong with you man?".

Ian cackled and shook his head, "nothings wrong with me. I just fucking like you or whatever and I already told you; the moneys insurance, protecting that pretty face of yours".

Mickey's middle finger was raised once more while his face was busy heating up, "ok fuck, fine, i'll take the cash. But not promising you anything. You're fucking weird man, not sure how much more of you I can handle".

Ian's face lit up and he cocked his head in that boyish, mischievous way again, "pretty sure you can handle a lot Mick," he paused and hummed, "hopefully".

"The fuck," he whispered, the word coming out in a shuddery breath. "I'm outta here. Good luck with being rich now or whatever".

He waved at him, clumsily and awkwardly, before swiftly heading towards the door.

"Don't be a stranger Mickey".

He didn't even need to turn around to recognise the grin that cocky redhead was undoubtedly sporting. Ian Gallagher. Of all the houses. Of all the situations. This night had not turned out like he had expected. He paused at the door, his fingertip tracing over his bottom lip, somehow still feeling Ian's lips there. Fuck. Mickey already knew it. He needed to kiss him again.

"Whatever. See ya later, firecrotch".

❤🎁🎄🌈

[findafight]

Not me writing a prologue for a fic I'll maybe never write about Steve being on the Dream Team lmao. I saw a pro basketball player Steve post a while ago and couldn't stop thinking about it. Anyways-

At the end of March Madness in 1989, the scout for the Pacers has lunch with the head coach of a community college basketball team that somehow made it to the first round before being pulverized. They sit across from each other, the coach seemingly a bit overwhelmed but not outright surprised. That's good, it means Jerry, the scout, doesn't have to worry about him freaking out or babbling too much.

The team captain had caught his, and possibly others', eye. Good layups, a few three pointers, solid defence, and a helluva lot of potential add up to someone to keep an eye on, except they can't because the guy plays for a rinky-dink community college and only had one televised game. The only reason Jerry saw the kid is because the Roane County Community College Ospreys had put in a hell of a fight the past three seasons. Jerry wonders why the hell the kid hadn't been offered a scholarship somewhere...not Roane County. Doesn't matter though, because they're here now.

"so. You wanted to talk about Steve?" Says the coach, August Nearaly, a bit weary.

Jerry nods, sipping his coffee. "Yeah. Wanted to get a sense of him before I actually talked to him."

August sighs. "As a player or as a person?"

Raising his eyebrows. "Is he that different off the court?"

"no! No, not like how you probably think. Harrington's a sweet kid, but also incredibly...well, not weird, but. Peculiar? He's got quirks. Bit paranoid, but not in a conspiracy way. In a 'no one should walk home alone in the dark' or 'hey, where'd John go? He was right here and then I did a headcount and he's not?' kinda way. Y'know? Like, they're all adults, but he does headcounts and worries anyways."

"huh. Oookay?"

"it-- I'm not saying this to rag on him, to be clear. It just too a while to get used to. Honestly, it's been good for team building. Makes them think of each other not as individuals, but part of a unit that needs everyone healthy and whole to work."

"that's good. He's a team player."

"oh yeah. It's not surprising, really. He's from Hawkins." August says the name like Jerry should know what that means. It's a town, sure, but other than that... Jerry's at a loss. Maybe something a few years ago about a fire? "He has most assists in Osprey history. Some of the guys joke that he's allergic to the ball."

"He's good on the court?"

"Jerry. I know you're here because you saw the March Madness game. You know he's good. He'd be even better if he could afford those fancy prescription goggles Horace Grant wears."

"seriously? Why not contacts?"

"don't make them for his prescription. You didn't see his interview? Kid's got thick horn rimmed glasses. Too many concussions apparently. God knows how he tells players apart when the jersey colours are similar."

"shit. That's why he was squinting the whole time? I thought he was just stressed."

He shrugged. "eh. Probably a bit of both. He takes it seriously, but not too seriously. Y'know? Half the guys were shitting themselves from nerves and Harrington stands up in the locker room, hands on his hips, and gives a speech worthy of the most melodramatic underdog sports movie."

Jerry laughs. "No shit."

Waving his hands, August nods. "no shit! He says all this stuff like 'we worked hard...we deserve this...we may not win but let's do our damn best. The worst that could happen is we lose, and that isn't the end of the world. So let's go out there and play some basketball!' or something, his was better, and the boys cheer. Then they put in fifty points to one-thirty."

Jerry winces. "Must have hurt, huh?"

August grins. "No way. One of the best games they ever played. You saw it. You wouldn't be here if you hadn't. They played their goddamn hearts out." He leans forward. "My boys don't have the same facilities as the big universities, or the funding to offer scholarships. They're at Roane Community because they want a degree or certificate but have other responsibilities. Parents or siblings to stay close to, jobs to work, people to take care of. They joined my team because they like playing basketball, loved the game and wanted to spend some of their precious time playing it. They put the work in on the court and off it. And we made it to the NCAA tournament because of it. We put in fifty points against the goddamn Michigan Wolverines! The champs! And they knew that. I've never heard of a locker room after an 80 point defeat so happy."

"seriously?"

It's all pride when Coach Nearaly says "yep. They may not be the best basketball players in college, but my god, they're probably the best team."

"because of Harrington?"

"partly. They all contribute, make sure they do things right. It's not a one man show, that's the point. They rally around him, but they all are part of the team, and know it. That's what Steve makes sure. Why I made him captain."

"So, you think he'd be a good pick for the Pacers?" This is, after all, a business meeting.

August nods, picks at his pancakes. "I'll be honest with you Jerry. You're not the first scout to talk to me about Steve."

"really? Who?"

"you know I won't say. But, between me and you, Steve's Indiana born and bred. His wife's planning on getting some lib Arts degree in Chicago or Indy, and your offer might be the deciding factor for them."

Jerry blinks. "He's married? At, what? Twenty-one?"

August nods. "Just turned twenty-two. High school sweethearts or something. Obsessed with each other." He chuckled, a bit ruefully. "I'm a bit jaded but damn. You mention her name? He lights up like the fuckin Fourth of July."

Jerry whistles. "Honeymoon phase gets us all."

"for almost two years? Nah. It's just love." It sounds a little wistful, coming from August. "Anyways. I dunno if the other team is serious about him, and if they are, they'll probably be disappointed. Kid isn't moving out of the Midwest. He's got family here, and is getting a goddamn elementary education degree. He won't uproot his life for a chance at the NBA. But, if you offer. Well. He'd at least seriously consider it."

Humming, Jerry chews his eggs as he thinks. "You think he'd be up for the lifestyle? The road games out numbering home ones?"

There's an air of seriousness when August levels Jerry with a look. "If he doesn't want to, he'll tell you. You gotta give him time to talk to his family though. This offer? It'll come out of left field for him, even if I give him a heads up. You get that, yeah? You want to recruit a kindergarten teacher to the NBA without any build up. He needs time to process that and then see where the people in his life are at with it."

"I guess it is unusual."

"try being the community college basketball coach getting two goddamn calls from NBA scouts. Thought I was hallucinating."

Jerry laughs, counts some bills for the tip. "Thank you. For your time and insights. Let Steve know I'll call tomorrow?"

"will do. He'll still probably drob the phone on you, though."

"as long as he doesn't hang up!"

[mushroomwoods]

Sunflower Fields

the rustling wind was all too characteristic now, dream or not, he just wished to remember your voice...

character — wars, romantic or platonic

cw — mild angst with happy ending.

this is a gift i made for the loveliest @wayfayrr and took way too long to post because tumblr is a bitch, but since i am here now... enjoy! ps: i made an art commission from the dearest @h4wari. check it out, it's amazing!

The calm summer breeze blew, comforting and slightly humid as it ruffled his hair along with the scarf.

Blue star coloured eyes focused on the horizon, the chatting and bantering happening beside him barely catching his attention.

He looked lost.

As if chasing after something oh so far away, yet he didn't know what it was.

“Dozing off again, Link?” Impa voice resounded, breaking him off his stupor, gladiolus eyes thinning at the blank stare the warrior offered her.

“Let it be, Impa.” Zelda cut through, graciously stirring the tea before she poured one cup for herself.

“Ah, I can do it, Your Highness-” As Impa tried to stand up, the princess simply waved her hand.

Link took a sip of his own tea, already cold, though the gentle rosemary scent still filled his nostrils, a vague memory of Zelda telling him it was one of her favorite ones coming to mind, yet as the flavor seeped into his mouth he could only grimace.

Bitter.

The princess lightly pushed the sugar pot nearer to him, yet the hero refused, setting the porcelain cup back to the saucer with a muted clack.

“Excuse me, but I have to go back to my duties.” A blatant lie, he had been given a week off just the previous day.

Nonetheless, the princess nodded in understanding, barely looking his way as he made his way out of the garden. The gerbera daisies surrounded him the whole way out, as if mocking him, the sunny yellow shade only serving to make his mood worse.

He couldn’t understand why it was happening, why sometimes there were lapses of memories within him, the figments of a voice and a soft touch that caressed his cheeks with so much tenderness that he wanted to cry. He knew that such a thing could never have happened in the past as he spent most of his time in the war and taking care of his job as a commander.

His fists clenched when he finally reached the outer walls of the castle, the soldiers guarding the area bowed to him in respect, before opening the gates.

Freedom at last.

Somehow, after everything that happened, he couldn’t feel at ease while in that place, when near those people, when he got reminded of every single nightmare he had to push through, he felt as if drowning amidst the suffocating essence of abatina flowers, her image resurfacing to his mind even when he tried so hard to wipe it out of the memory.

With a sigh, he started heading back to his quarter, a vague sensation of deja vu overcoming his body, the rustling of the crisp summer air brushing his hair as if it was a loving hand.

The path home was quiet, some people greeting him here and there, to which was answered by his collected smile.

A fake.

Somehow nothing made sense, nothing seemed real, no amount of working or enjoyment made him feel at ease.

As the door to his house was opened, the red columbine in his stand shriveled, petals droopy, as thirst for a little drop of water, even then he ignored it, too aware of his own cowardice, hanging his uniform as he made his way to the bed.

The tired body just crumbled onto the bed, not trying to hold onto consciousness as he fell into a deep slumber.

…

He felt weightless, the usual tiredness not heaving into his shoulder.

A patch of small sunflowers surrounded him, someone sitting amidst it, a laughter familiar to him.

They said something that he couldn't quite understand, but before he could ask anything, they walked towards him, taking his hands into theirs, comforting and warm just as he remembered.

They laughed before bursting into hundreds of birds of paradise, colourful and filled with emotions.

Link didn't have any time to process it, however, as his eyes opened, the rays of light shone down on him as yet another day started.

Repeating it all once again.

He wished to sigh, but staying still at the same place for so long wouldn't do him any good, and only make him pity himself even more.

Just as he opened the curtains of his bedroom, his eyes widened, the place that should have been a vast open hill, was now covered in a patch of sunflowers, much like the dream he just had.

Not even bothering to take his usual uniform, he headed out in a flurry, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled towards the door.

As he opened it, the sight that greeted him was a familiar, yet unknown figure, surrounded by the townsfolk, all carrying bouquets of sunflowers, and placing it around the now covered patch of land.

The mysterious person's eyes met his, and they didn't hesitate before approaching him, the white-pink valerians in their arms standing out among the bright yellow blooms everyone else held.

“I'm sure you didn't expect it, Link.” Their familiar voice rang inside his heart, and he unknowingly smiled at it.

“You… how..?” So many questions flooded his head, yet no coherent words came out.

Scalding hot tears brimmed around his eyes, and with a soft smile they brushed it out of his face.

“I'm sorry that it took me so long to get to you my dear.” They answered with a melancholic smile, offering him the valerian bouquet.

He hesitated for a second, yet the moment he saw the guilt in your eyes, he carefully took it, not wasting any more time before taking you into a warm embrace.

“I missed you so much…” Link said.

“Me too, Link.” You sobbed into his arms.

Blue Star — Strength, Resilience

Gladiolus — Victorious, Strength

Rosemary — Remembrance

Gerbera Daisies (Yellow) — Appreciation in relationships

Abatina — Fickleness

Red columbine — Anxious, Trembling

Dwarf Sunflower — Adoration

Bird of Paradise — Freedom

Valerian — Readiness

[devskindawritingblog]

Hey! Can I request adult misty quigley x fem reader? And also can they kinda have an age gap? (Teehee)

Basically Misty obviously has a thing for needing people to want her and need her and feel important so her very codependent partner comes up with a way to make her feel better by letting Misty treat fake injuries on her? Like idk putting ketchup on her arm and misty bandaging her up and all that to keep herself feeling sane

Click to help Palestine 🇵🇸 🍉

Bandages

Older Misty x reader

AN: hiiiii im so sorry this took so long. I’ve be busy with school and stuff in my personally life but it’s finally out yay. Misty’s text is in yellow I think that’s the colour I originally picked for her. Divider made by @arachnid-wife

word count rounded: 1k

You and Misty first met when your grandmother lived at the nursing home that Misty worked at. You would visit your grandmother once a week. Misty was usually the nurse that helped with her, so you would see her often.

The both of you got very close, so close that you would go out for coffee together every other weekend. It was mostly about your grandmother, but after a while, the conversations turned flirty. You would spend more and more time with her. Soon, she finally asked you out. You went on a few actual dates with her. After a while, you made it official with her. She asked you to move in with her and Caligula. You accept, of course. That was a few years ago, and after all that time with Misty, you started to notice little things about her.

The first time you started noticing was when you accidentally cut your finger while chopping something with a knife.

You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and chatting with Misty. You guys were going to have a holiday party with the yellow jackets. You and Misty were chatting and making jokes when you looked over your shoulder, and that's when you felt it. A sharp, searing pain in your pointer finger. You wince and gasp, turning back to see your finger. You drop the knife and lift your hand. 

“Oh my gosh!!!” Misty rushes over and grabs a towel, wrapping your finger in it as you let out a huff in pain. “Fuck.” You sigh, groaning, as you lean against the counter.

You ended up having to go to the hospital to get it stitched up. Misty offered, but you were not going to let her sew up your finger at the house. You ended up being alright, and the party ended up actually happening, but instead you ordered some pizzas.

Misty spent the next few weeks keeping you in a bubble. Feeding you even though you cut your non-dominant hand. She would basically do anything for you if you needed to use your hands. She would check on your stitches every day and help clean them.

You really don't mind that she wants to take care of you. In fact, it's quite fun having her do things for you because she won't even hesitate. You want a glass of water? She’s on it. Food? Right away. Misty even spent a week helping you get dressed.

After your finger fully healed, you would notice a slight change in Misty. She wanted to keep helping, but there was nothing to do anymore. She felt like she was unneeded. You decided to talk to Misty one night while cuddling on the couch.

“Hey? You alright?”

“ Wha? Oh yeah, I'm alright, most alright ever." Misty says it sounds obnoxiously cheerful for someone who was pouting because you didn't need help making yourself toast this morning. You look over at her, giving her a smile that says, “I know you're not alright.” 

“It's, well, you know, I really loved taking care of you and feeling like I was useful.” 

“You're my girlfriend, Misty; you don't need to be "useful." I love you.” You say, kissing her cheek as she smiles back. “I know, but I guess it's my love language to help and to make you better.” She says she is pulling you into her arms and giving your healed finger a little kiss. 

“How about this? I'll let you patch me up and “nurse” me back to health whenever you want.”

“But I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“What if we just pretend? You know, bandage up my fake cut or whatever else you want to do. If it makes you feel better, I really don't mind.” Misty's eyes light up, and she pulls you into a kiss.

From that day forward, it became just part of the two of you. Sure, it's an unusual way to cheer her up, but you don’t really mind. It always goes the same way: she “comforts” you and gives you kisses. Then she “disinfects” your “cut” and puts on a patterned bandage on it before “kissing it better." Misty claims that it's the most important part of the whole process.

One day Misty came home from work upset; it was just a very stressful day, and she needed to come home and see you. You're in the kitchen cooking after Misty finally lets you touch a knife without intense supervision. You hear the front door open and yell out. “Hi baby, how was work?” You say, looking over your shoulder to catch her taking off her jacket with a silent huff, not like herself at all.

She walks into the bedroom without saying a word and changes out of her scrubs. You put down whatever you were doing and follow Misty into your bedroom. “Hey? Baby? You ok? Bad day?” You ask, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug. “Long day.” Misty mutters, relaxing into your arms.

You pull away and smile softly. “I got a scrape on my knee earlier, babe, Wanna help?” You ask, sitting down on the bed and rolling up your pants to show her your perfectly fine, unscraped knee. Misty raises a brow. “There is no scrape on your knee, babe” Misty says, a little confused. 

“What? Misty? My knee hurts. Can you patch me up?” She finally smiles as she lets out a sigh. She understands what you're trying to do, and she grabs her little med kit. Misty kneels next to the bed, rolling up your pants until your knee is fully exposed. She grabs a little alcohol wipe and rubs it on your knee. 

“It might sting a little, babe.”

She grabs some bandage wrap, lifts your knee a bit off the bed, and wraps your knee up snugly. She finishes and gives you a little kiss on your bandaged knee. “All better, you get hurt a lot; you gotta be more careful.” You both smile and laugh a little as she pulls you into a kiss.

[cloverthecactus]

house husband [miguel o'hara x fem!reader]

summary: you and your husband miguel recently moved into a new home and due to an unexpected twist, miguel became a house husband.

warnings: none !

wordcount: 1.4k!

notes:

not proofread, plug and post

no use of 'y/n' (hate it! can't stand it!)

intentionally written in lowercase with certain letters, words and phrases in capital.

this is drawn out a bit BUT eventually concludes

meant to be a 'short' 1 parter, but if requested will write a part 2 :)

you and miguel had recently moved into the perfect home.

a large cottage home, just outside the city and was surrounded by greenery every way you looked. in the backyard was a lake that sparkled a sea green colour. your husband (miguel) was a busy man. he was one of the few CEOs who "ruled" brand known as 'the spider society'. he designed sports clothing and called it the '2099 collection'. it became fairly popular in recent years and due to the overwhelming success, miguel finally gave you the ultimate gift, your dream home.

he held you in his arms as though you were a newly wedded bride and kissed your lips. he softly smiled at you and began to walk into your new home.

"oh, miguel, it looks so spacious... so amazing!" you excitedly exclaimed and squeezed his arm. "i knew you would love it" he softly chuckled, setting one hand on his hip as he stared at you, planning where each of your trinkets would be.

you were so distracted by your planning that you failed to notice your husband answering a phone call. you also failed to notice the slight anger and disappointment that fled to his face and voice. only once he had loosened his arm from your grip had you noticed his sudden change in demeanour.

"honey? what's wrong?" your face displayed worry but miguel's displayed anger. he turned to look at you and sighed as he rubbed his temples.

"i uh- lost my job" his tone was confused and no matter how many times you asked why they fired him or what he did to get this punishment, he just replied with a hushed; 'i don't know dear'. it made you pissed that he didn't have the answer and after bickering for several minutes, the two of you made a simple agreement.

you would work extra hours at your job (hopefully get a raise) and he would keep the house tidy. miguel then later dubbed himself as your house husband.

the two of you were able to live a stable life after that. you got a promotion at your job and began to get paid 60% more than before which allowed you to tell your husband to 'suck it' which he misread and actually did suck it...

but besides that, the two of you were happy.

you entered the home earlier than usual today and sighed aggressively as you took off the shoes that you wore. miguel hugged you from behind, littering your face in light kisses. you giggled as he performed his actions doing the same routine everyday as you entered the home.

"you're home early today. did something happen at work?" he looked at you with admiration, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"the paperwork got too much to bear and i had 3 meetings scheduled after one another. i got so stressed that i began to feel sick, so i gave the paperwork to my assistant to complete, rescheduled the meetings and came home." you softly smiled, leaning your cheek against his head.

miguel couldn't have you being sad. not after all you've done to keep your little family financially stable since he lost his job. he loosened his grip on you and turned you around to face him. he was wearing your white and brown frilly apron that was dusted with bits of flour and what seemed like butter and a wet stain you assumed was water or milk. to keep himself busy, miguel began doing small hobbies. he began cooking, learned embroidery, read more and even took a liking to gardening.

miguel gently placed a kiss on your lips, and walked you to the kitchen where he offered you one of the pastries he had just made. "honey, i'm exhausted. could i try a pastry once i wake up from my nap?" a yawned escaped your mouth as you sat down in one of the dinning room seats. "but i just made a fresh pot of coffee and it's my first time making blueberry scones." he pout and kneeled down before you, holding your knee.

"could you try just one? i can give you a fresh cup of coffee and then you can rest." he politely asked, a small smile spread across his lips. he looked so adorable, you couldn't resist. so with a defeated sigh, you smiled and nodded "sure honey, let's try one" his eyes lit up as he stood from his position and poured the coffee into your favourite mug. he dished two fresh scones and with a proud smile he rested the tableware down. "i hope you like it" he whispered and kissed your cheek.

"im sure it's delicious darling. your baking has improved a lot in the past few weeks" a warm smile coats your face as you take a bite into the warm and still soft scones. your eyes widen slightly at the taste which has your husband excited and giddy like a child who just got an allowance. "miguel, this tastes incredible" you chuckle and offer him a bite from the piece you had eaten.

he nods as he chews the scone and gently kisses your cheek. "i agree with you, this is the best sweet treat i've made so far" he spoke and sat alongside you as you drank your coffee and ate the scones.

you yawned, showing the effects of the coffee wearing off and tapped miguel's forearm softly while leaning against his shoulder. "you wanna take a nap?" he asked in a soft tone, looking down at you with a soft smile. you slowly nod and fulttered your eyes closed. "i could fall asleep right here, but then you're gonna yell cause im not getting proper rest" you pout, knowing how miguel got when it came to your well-being. he would get upset when the two of you would go on roadtrips and you would fall asleep with the seat upright, saying you deserved to sleep in a proper way.

"want me to carry you to bed?" he asked in a warm tone, moving his arm around you. you shook your head 'no' and insisted you walk up those long stairs to your bedroom. "fine then, if i can't carry you to bed, i'll help you there. i know how you get when you're sleepy" he scoffed and helped you stand, slowly guiding you to your shared room.

he helped you out of your work attire and into something more comfortable. he then tucked you into bed and kissed your forehead. "miggy?" you groaned and opened your eyes.

"hmm?" he replied looking down at you

"im no longer sleepy." you spoke in annoyance with your body and guilt as you made miguel do all of this for you to be wide awake. "i'm sorry" you apologised with a pout to which miguel just chuckled and sat against the edge of the bed.

"honey, it's okay. you are exhausted but you just don't want to sleep." he rubbed your leg that was under the covers and smiled

"i know that... i can feel the exhaustion, but i just cant sleep" you whined and rest your head against the headboard. miguel sighed and took off his apron, dusting himself off and climbing into the bed next to you. "i will cuddle you to sleep and once you're asleep, i'll make dinner and the wake you up with a surprise." he spoke reassuringly and opened his arms to engluf you in a comfortably cuddle.

"thank you miggy, i love you" you mumbled under his arm that you stuffed your face under. a light chuckled escaped his mouth and he kisses your head

"i love you too, dear"

the two of you laid in comfortable silence as he tried to cuddle you asleep, which you had discovered was not making you as sleepy as you thought.

"honey?" miguel called, knowing you weren't asleep. you hummed a reply and opened your eyes. "i feel like something's missing" he spoke unsure which caused you to look up at him in a daze of confusion. "elaborate please?"

"with you working almost nine hours everyday, it gets so... boring. dont get me wrong, i love this easy life i have, but i feel like i need something more." he sighed and looked down at you.

"i understand the jump from working almost every day to being a house husband. there's a lot you did at your job that you no longer do and it's frustrating" you replied in an understanding tone and moved your hand from his back to his cheek.

"cooking, cleaning, gardening... it's just not the same. it feels like something is missing, and i feel like i need more"

"what are you implying miguel?" you asked with a raised brow, fearing the worst.

"i want to have a baby."

you exhaled deeply and displayed a tentative smile. "oh thank god! i thought you were gonna ask for a divorce!" you laughed giddy, holding your hand on miguel's chest

"no, honey, i want a baby" he chuckled and kissed your forehead. "i can wake up at random hours of the night or morning to take care of the sucker and when you're so tired you want to cry, me and the baby will be there to cheer you up. think of the memories and challenges we will face together!" you bit your lip in thought

"miggy, i dont know. if i got pregnant that would mean i need to take maternity leave which requires me to spend around 2-3 months at home. where will the money come from? not just that, baby food, baby clothes, equipment. we would have to renovate the guest room to a nursery and–"

"calm down, love." he softly spoke and rubbed your back to soothe your mind from the worries. "what if we adopted? it would save the time wasted on maternity leave and we could renovate the nursery on our own. it could be a fun project that we can do together"

you had wanted to do more things with miguel and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. you had your doubts and issues with having an infant around, but if it made your husband as happy as he makes you, you wouldn't mind.

you looked up and made direct eye contact with miguel. tapping his chest softly and nodding you softly spoke; "lets adopt a baby"

you had never heard your husband squeal and you swear that if he was any higher he would have cracked a few glasses. he kissed your lips passionately and chuckled as he let go of your lips. "we're going to have a baby ! we're going to be parents !"

all you could do is smile. you had never seen miguel this excited in a long time and you savoured the moment for as long as you could. your husband had not wasted time on planning. he spoke about when the two of you would begin renovating your child's room, what colours the walls should be painted and what name your kid should call you.

he really liked 'papa'.

you were grateful that your husband rants about a topic once his invested, or else you would have never fallen asleep. you awoke hours later. the sun was setting and his colone lingered in the air. you opened your eyes and looked to the left to see a pink tulip and dinner with a small card along side the plate. it read:

to my darling wife, thank you for staying with me through everything. may this new chapter of our lives be as exciting as the last...