#I just drew it as a joke to share between friends but got told to post it haha

[pekenja]

Scuffed sugarduo I quickly drew on my phone as a joke

Based on Phils last stream and also heavily based on this Popuko & Pipimi image!

[rollingsins]

the drabble files, p3

p1 | p2 | p3

summary: Several years into the future, after a call from the Principal, you and Tara sit your son down for a talk.

warnings: Tara is (was) Ghostface.

word count: 1.5k.

a/n: future!fic, obviously set post all hers. for those of you who have gf!tara baby fever - bet you don't after this.

“Sit down,” You say, sternly, “This is serious.” 

A call from the school isn’t uncommon these days. Your son, Gabriel, barely twelve years old, is flowering into quite the young rebel. 

At first, it had been mostly harmless. Silly pranks pulled on his younger sister. Crude jokes shared with his friends in the back of your car. Arguing about chores. 

But you’ve never had the Principal himself call you in the middle of the day to complain before. 

And you know if you don’t nip it in the bud now, that flowering rebel will bloom into an absolute nightmare of a teenager. 

Gabriel looks back at you with wide eyes. 

He’s tall for his age, with long, floppy dark hair. He has Tara’s eyes, her easy smile, and has seemingly also inherited her utter lack of respect for any figure of authority. 

He eyes the seat opposite you, pursing his lips as he slinks into the chair, flipping his hair like a wannabe Justin Bieber. 

Tara sits beside you, lazy arm slung across the back of your chair. She knows her role well by now - back-up. The other arm in your chain of unity. 

“Fun-Mom” Gabriel sometimes called her, “Scary-Mom” when she got mad. 

Somehow, you always seemed to be known as “Un-Fun-Mom”, a title you couldn't' quite shake. 

You half dare him to try it now, but he only blinks back at you, as if he understands he’s pushed the boat too far this time. 

You tilt your head at him, silently fuming. Tara’s fingers brush against the back of your neck, a familiar technique Gabriel called ‘taming the beast’. You shake her off and swallow, leaning across the table at your moron of a son. 

“Mr. Sampson called this afternoon,” You say, voice heated, “He told me you called him something very rude in class. Is that true?” 

He blinks back at you with long, dark lashes. His eyes catch Tara’s, then he looks back to you. 

He shrugs, but it’s not as nonchalant as you know he hopes it is. 

He shrugs like he’s too scared to answer. 

You lean forward, eyes narrowing.

“He said you called him a 'argyle wearing troglodyte who couldn’t find his way between a woman’s legs if someone drew him a map made out of rocks.'” 

Gabriel swallows. 

You stare back at him, fire behind your eyes. 

It’s quiet for only a moment. Nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the sharp intake of Gabriel’s breath. 

And then beside you, Tara snorts. 

It rumbles through the kitchen as if it’s a thunderstorm. 

Your head jerks over to Tara at the same time Gabriel’s eyes find her. 

You stare at her, furrows browed, a sharp wave of indignation flooding through you. You’re supposed to be a team and she’s shown her hand. 

Broken the chain of unity. 

But it doesn’t last long. Immediately, her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s done. 

She turns to you, eyes wide, like she’s just entered a ring with a tiger. Her face drains of color. Her hand slung across the back of your chair slips. 

You blink in quiet outrage and she sits up, swallowing. 

She steadies her expression, suddenly serious, but it’s too late. 

By the time your gaze shifts back to Gabriel, he’s smiling. 

The victory of making his Mom laugh has bloomed a shit-eating grin across his face. 

“You forgot bitchless,” He gloats, leaning forward, “I called him a bitchless argyle wearing troglodyte who couldn’t-“ 

“Gabriel Carpenter,” You hiss, slamming your hand down on the table, “This isn’t funny.” 

“Mom seems to think it is.” He says, voice snide. He leans back in his chair, as if this is all a carnival game and he’s just won a first place ribbon. 

Your nostrils flare. 

Out of your two children, Gabriel had always been the more difficult child. Loud, obnoxious, moody, temperamental. 

His looks aren’t the only thing he’s inherited from your wife. 

The “I don’t give a fuck” nature had come as an unfortunate package. 

It had been cute when he was a toddler. 

Not so much anymore. 

“Really?” You challenge, looking over to your wife, “Tara, do you think it’s funny Gabriel called his history teacher a “bitchless, argyle wearing troglodyte”?” 

Tara shakes her head, immediately. 

“No babe, of course not,” She placates you, reaching over to squeeze your hand. You glare at her until she turns to your son, “That isn’t funny Gabriel.” 

“But you laughed,” He protests, all confidence lost. 

“I wasn’t laughing at what you said, I was laughing at something funny I thought of in my head.” Tara says, rather unconvincingly. 

You roll your eyes. 

Tara pauses, side eyeing you a moment and then tilting her head towards Gabriel. 

“Where’d you’d even come up with that kind of insult anyway?” She asks, trying - and failing, not to sound interested.

Gabriel smirks. 

“From you, Mom,” He says, “It’s the way you talk about Grandpa.” 

Tara’s eyes widen. She looks over to you, a little afraid.

“Yes, well, that’s wrong of me,” She says, a little hastily, “You shouldn’t insult people, Gabe. Not to their face.” 

Gabriel’s face crinkles. 

“You mean I should just insult them behind their back?” He asks, a little confused. 

You pinch your nose. 

“No,” You stress, nudging your wife to be quiet before she makes the situation even worse, “You shouldn’t insult people at all. You’re going to apologize to Mr Sampson tomorrow and we’re all going to pray you don’t get suspended.” 

Gabriel sulks. 

“But he is a bitchless troglodyte,” He scowls, crossing his arms, “You should hear the way he talks to the girls in class. Like they’re too stupid to follow his lessons.” 

“That’s neither here nor there,” You say, firmly, “If you want to make a complaint about Mr Sampson you can do it properly, by talking to the principal.” 

You pause, furrowing your brow. 

“And stop saying “bitchless”, You add, “Where’d you learn that word anyway?” 

“It’s what Mom calls Aunt Mindy sometimes.” Gabriel answers, happily. 

You shoot another scowl towards your wife. 

She averts her gaze. 

“You’re grounded,” You tell your son, “Two weeks. No screentime, and you come straight home after school.”

Gabriel’s eyes widen, “But Ma-“ 

“Don’t argue with me, Gabriel, you’re in enough trouble as it is.” You say, voice hot. 

Gabriel blinks back at you. 

“Mom?” He looks at Tara, moon-eyed. 

“Don’t look at her, she’s not going to help you.” You snap, and Tara shifts uncomfortably. 

You look over to her, look pointed. 

She purses her lips, cowering under the fury in your gaze. 

“Mama’s right, Gabe, you can’t call people names. You’re grounded.” 

Gabriel looks over to her, betrayal in his eyes. 

“But-“ 

“No buts, now get upstairs and get your sister down for dinner before you get yourself - or me - in anymore trouble.” Tara mumbles. She’s not making eye contact with you, uncharacteristically avoidant. 

Gabriel folds his arms. 

“She’s your kid, get her yourself.” Gabriel glares. 

Your son thinks he has a fire, but you know your wife a little better than he does.

He's an ember and she's a forest fire.

You lean back, satisfied she’ll take over from here. 

Tara glares at him. 

“That’s another week grounded for talking back,” Tara growls. 

Gabriel’s eyes bulge. 

“You can’t do that!” He says, mouth falling open, eyes wide in all his pre-teen outrage. 

“Wanna make it four?” 

Gabriel frowns. His eyebrows pitch together in that way Tara’s do right before she’s about to throw a tantrum. 

He stares back at her as if she’s a traitor and stands, dragging his chair along the floor with a sharp whine to express his dissatisfaction. 

Usually, the two of them are thick as thieves. Tara and her little mini me. But Gabriel had made a critical error - he’d tried to pit your wife against you. 

A thick as thieves or no, mother and son or no - there’s no-ones team she’s on but yours. 

Gabriel leaves the table with a grumble, shooting daggers at her. He stomps to the bottom of the stairs and leans over the bannister. 

“Riley!” He calls, “Dinner!” 

“Go up and get her, Gabriel,” Tara snaps, “Am I speaking French?” 

He stomps up the stairs, dirty look in his eyes. 

You look over to her. She’s in Scary-Mom mode now, your son has inadvertently awoken the beast.

But as she looks over to you, her expression softens. 

She scoots her chair a little closer and curls up against you, not unlike an oddly affectionate panther. 

Her lips graze the side of your cheek before she presses a quick peck to the top of your head. 

Then she looks at you, eyes apologetic. Mournful. 

“I wasn’t undermining you, baby, I really was thinking of something funny in my head.” She says, so quickly the words jumble together. 

You consider this, and then squeezes her hand. 

You meet her lips in a soft kiss. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” You tell her, drawing back, “But thanks for backing me up.” 

“Always.” She murmurs. 

There’s a loud crash from the top of the stairs and then you hear your daughter scream out. 

“It’s mine, Gabriel!” She cries. 

“Don’t be such a baby, you had your turn.” Says Gabriel. 

You sigh. 

Tara stands with a growl. Her chair scrapes against the tile. You wince.

“Don’t kill them,” You say, sounding resigned. 

You stare over at the pot on the stove. The pasta is sure to be over cooked by now. Your Son would be in a mood for the rest of the night and now he'd gone and upset his sister.

“Don’t give me any ideas.” Tara grumbles, before she marches up the stairs. 

[miyuhpapayuh]

lovers and friends.

Sitting at the square bar top table inside of Flavor, the trio sit and await the arrival of Mya’s very unaware date.

“Are you nervous?” Taylor asks Mya, who’s been smoothing her clammy hands over her dress for the last fifteen minutes.

“Huh?”

Mercedes squints in her direction, making Taylor laugh. “If you can “huh”, you can hear. Relax, girl!”

“I’m relaxed! I just need y’all to be nice.”

“I’m always nice. It’s that one,” Taylor points her manicured finger across the table, “that you have to watch.”

“I don’t need to be watched, you peasant.” She rolls her eyes.

“Anywho. You might not oblige, but I would like to talk to your friend, alone.” Mercedes says, watching the slight horror come across Mya’s face.

“I don’t know, cedes…”

“Listen, before you start! I just wanna talk to him. I won’t interrogate, per say. Just some friendly badgering if you will!”

Face palming, she reluctantly agrees. “Okay. Just let me warn him, first.” She pulls out her phone to text him.

“Oh my gosh, am I that bad?”

Taylor and Mya give her the same look, answering her question.

“Fair enough.” She shrugs.

“He’s coming in, now.  Please be nice, y’all.” Mya pleads. Her nerves begin to get the best of her.

Her eyes wander around the crowd in search of him.

“Aw, look at ‘er, searching for her boo!” Mercedes pokes fun.

Rolling her eyes, they land on him and all his glory.

“There he is.” She smiles as he looks in her direction, making his way over to their table.

“Hello, ladies.” He greets, holding three pink roses in his hand. “I thought it’d be rude to come empty handed.”

“Ugh! How sweet is that!” Taylor takes a rose from his hand. “I like you, already. I’m Taylor.”

Mercedes smirks, taking hers. “Yes, very sweet of you, Isaiah.”

He chuckles. “Ah, you must be the infamous Mercedes.”

“The one and only.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. Mya laughs, shaking her head.

“It’s nice to finally meet the both of you.” He says, turning his attention towards his flushed faced beauty of a date.

“You look beautiful.” He compliments as she grabs the last rose from his hand.

“Thank you, handsome.” She kisses his cheek. “I’ll let you two,” she looks between him and Mercedes, “get to talkin’. We’ll be at the bar.”

“She acts like I’m gonna chew you up.” She starts laughing.

“And, spit his ass out!” Taylor jokes.

“Right! Don’t act like we don’t know you, cedes. Behave.” Mya gives her a death glare.

“I will! Jesus.”

Isaiah looks between the three of them, amused.

“Y’all are funny.”

“Yeah, you should stick around for when the laughter stops.” Mya sighs. “Anywho, we’ll be over there.”

“Holler if you need saving.” Taylor continues, before dragging Mya towards the bar.

“Make yourself comfortable, I don’t bite… I fight.” She smiles. He snorts and sits across from her.

“I respect it.”

“That’s so good to hear. Now, tell me.. what drew you to my best friend, besides the fact that she is as pretty as she is?” She tilts her head.

Squinting at her, he chuckles. “Using my own words against me. Clever.”

“Not as clever as you. Nice game, I’ll admit.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He graciously clasps his hands together.

“Anyhow.. she’s very intellectual, for starters. She’s got a bunch of what she calls “useless facts” in her head that she likes to share. They’re not as useless as she thinks, though.”

“I’ve told her that a thousand times.” She adds.

“Don’t tell her this, but I’ve taken a couple of those and put ‘em to use.” They share a laugh.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” He grows excited. “She was peeling an orange one day, while informing me that a red bell pepper’s got three times more vitamin C than it. I went to go see my sister and I had to share the info, even though she didn’t really care.”

“See, that one I had no idea about. Makes you almost wonder.. what’s the point of the orange, then?”

“Exactly. They might as well start juicing the peppers.” He jokes, making her laugh, once more.

“Are they.. laughing??” Mya asks, having not taken her eyes off them since she sat down.

“How can you tell? We’re like ten feet away.” Taylor says, knocking back a shot of brandy.

“Her shoulders bounced! I saw that.” She smirks. “I knew he’d crack her.”

“What else do you like about her?” Mercedes asks.

“She’s sweet.” He says, to which she starts laughing.

“You just wait until she gets more comfortable around you. That girl’s attitude is something fiery. Other than that, yes she’s sweeter than taffy.”

“Good to know.” He nods. “Think I’ll stay on her good side.”

“I might not have to beat the brakes off you, Isaiah. We’ll keep the option on the table if need be, though.” She half-jokes, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He obliges. “Thank you. You’re not as bad as Mya made you out to be.”

“Ugh, she’s so dramatic! I only do what I do to protect my girls. They’re everything to me and I won’t let them get hurt.” She stresses, feeling her throat dry up a little.

“I’d never hurt her. She’s far too special to me, already.”

“Good. I can see you bein’ around for a while.”

“I hope so.”

Turning in her friends’ direction, she motions them back over towards the table.

“Looks like it was a lovely conversation to me.” Taylor pokes Mya’s side as she sits down beside Mercedes at the table.

“It was, you heffas.” She rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t even say anything! I already caught you laughing from the bar. That was enough for me.” Mya replies, sitting next to Isaiah. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist.

“I must be the ice witch or something!”

“Well, no you’re not. None of our boyfriends have ever made you laugh, before.” Taylor says.

“They weren’t funny.” Mercedes says to Isaiah, making him chuckle.

“Must not’ve been.”

“This is a sight to see!” Mya clasps her hands together.

“As much as I love being attacked, I need a drink. Taylor, come with me, please.”

“Looks like I’m headed back to the bar!” She sings-songs, as they head on over.

Leaving the two alone, they turn their attention to each other.

“Did I already tell you how beautiful you look?” He asks.

“You might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” she giggles.

“A couple more times wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“Not from somebody as fine as you.” She leans in to kiss him.

“Mm, that’s how we’re feelin’, this evening?”

“We, huh?”

“You like the sound of it too, huh?”

“Full of jokes, today. C’mere.” She presses her lips back to his for another quick kiss. 

Pulling away, she leans on his shoulder. Her eyes linger on his handsome face.

“You alright?”

“I may have had a shot or two at the bar.” She shrugs, trying to keep her laughter at bay.

“You might be the only person that I know, who ignores the fact that liquor can wipe them out.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Agreed.” He flagged down a waitress and ordered a shot of whiskey.

“There you go!”

“You’re a bad influence.” He teases.

“A little drink ain’t never hurt nobody. I could always do worse.”

“That’s very true.”

“I’ve got another useless fact for you.” She announces after a while.

His ears perk up. “Lay it on me.”

“You can get high off nutmeg if you consume too much of it.”

His brows scrunch up, before he nods. “Where’d you hear that one from?”

“My sister.” She laughs. “She’s also mad that she hasn’t met you, yet.”

“As is my sister. Don’t be offended, but my brother’s always been kinda to himself. He did say you were pretty.”

“That’s sweet. You and your sister are close, I assume?”

“You’d be correct. She’s always been there for me. Pain in my neck, but I love’er.”

What’s it like to be loved by such a man?

“You and your sister are close too, yeah?” He asks, as his drink comes to the table.

“Two peas in a pod, yeah. She’s always been my protector in a kind of way. I used to think she was smothering me, but she saved me from a lot.”

“Big sisters for the win.” He smiles.

“Go them!” She pumps her fist in the air making him laugh.

“No more drinks for you!”

“Aw, I was just getting started!” She whines, half joking.

The group had eventually found their way towards the dance floor, as Flavor jumped to the beat of Touching by V. Cartier.

Mercedes finds herself in between a very fine man and Taylor, keeping her close, as Mya and Isaiah stand a short distance away, getting a little closer than they’ve been around the two.

“You smell good.” He compliments, his chin in the crook of her neck as they sway to the sultry beat.

She giggles at the slight slur in his words. “That’s what three shots do to you, huh Mr. Lightweight?”

“Ain’t none but a lil slur. I still got my balance.”

“Aight, if you trip, I’m getting Mercedes to record everything!” She laughs.

Chuckling, he holds her closer. “You’d do me like that??”

“Nah, I’m just playing. I’d still laugh, though.”

“That’s cold, babe.”

Her brows raise at the name. Her cheeks flush red and her friends are witnessing every minute of it, soaking it up.

“They really are so stinkin’ cute.” Mercedes comments in Taylor’s ear, who agrees right away.

“I’m calling it. That’s her man.”

A quick laugh leaves her lips. “They’ve only been dating for about two months? I think they need a little more time, no?”

“Says the girl that started dating another man, less than two weeks after ol weeny showed his ass.” Taylor quips.

“We’re talking about Mya, not me.”

“Mercedes, you like him for her, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then, relax mama. She’s in good hands. Good, strong hands.” They share a laugh.

“Okay, okay.”

After another round of shots, the group decided to call it a successful night.

“I’m glad everyone had a great time, we should do it again!” Mya says, linking her arm with Isaiah's as they walk Mercedes and Taylor to her car.

“Definitely.”

“Let me pick the spot, next time!” Taylor offers.

“Don’t have us around a bunch of stuck up white people, Tay.” Mercedes says, unlocking her car as they hug each other.

Mya snickers.

“As funny as that was,” she rolls her eyes, “I don’t even hang out in spots like that. I be with y’all!”

“She’s got a point, cedes.”

“Anywho, we won’t hold y’all up no longer. It was nice to meet you, Isaiah. Take care of our girl.”

“You ladies, too. And don’t worry, I got her. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” They say in unison, before getting inside the car. The pair begin heading back in the opposite direction.

The soft breeze blows through her curls, cooling her off from the warm liquor that’s running through her veins.

“Enjoy yourself?” She asks, as they make it to his truck.

“Always. I’m glad you invited me out.” He says, helping her inside, before hopping inside, himself.

“Of course. My friends really wanted to meet you and I was dying to see how this played out.” she giggles. “I’m glad it went the way I’d hoped.”

“Me too. You had me a little scared, I won’t lie.” He admits, pulling out of the parking lot.

“I did warn you! But, y’all hit it off!”

“She’s a good friend. I can tell you mean a lot to her. Both of them.” He says, making her smile.

“Those are my girls.” She softly says.

“Where to? Home?”

“Hm.. not yet. I think we’ve got one more stop to make.”

Sitting across from each other in their favorite ice cream shoppe, the pair share another double scoop of vanilla.

“You love your ice cream, huh?”

“Mmhm!” She agrees, excitedly.

How does it feel to be loved by such a woman?

“You feelin’ better, these days?” She asks in regards to the conversation they’d previously had about his father.

He sighs. “Yeah, I’m cool. Still don’t know how to really feel, but I’m cool.”

She decides not to pry any further. Instead, she sits her hand on top of his, softly squeezing.

He looks at her, a small smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Back at work, Mya and Savannah play catch up before her shift begins. The two stand in her office with their morning coffee as her boss almost loses her mind at the news.

“Why didn’t you tell me??”

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming!” Mya laughs.

Savannah laughs, patting her shoulder. “I can’t blame you, but I did tell you that he was sweet on you!”

“You did.” She agrees, putting her coffee back up to her lips.

“How long has it been?”

“A little over a month since we’ve been dating. It’s nice. Really nice.”

“Just let me know when the wedding is.” She jokes, before handing her a pink folder with the word projects on the front.

“This is for your ideas, as well as the actual plans that you’ve been talking to me about for quite some time. I’ve given a particular one some thought..”

“Which one?” Mya asks.

“Oh, you know… remodeling the place doesn’t sound like a bad idea, after all. We’ve got the contractors for it and your ideas were very, very nice.”

“Savannah, don’t play with me!” She squeals, making her boss laugh.

“After the way you kept hounding me about taking you and your work more seriously, as if I never did, shame on you.” She pauses to playfully slap Mya’s hand. “I decided to take you up on all of your offers.”

“Indeed, you have! I don’t even know what to say!”

“Say you'll take it from here.”

Mya flips her curls over her shoulder. “I’ll take it from here.”

“That’s my girl!”

“Well, I guess I better start on this.” She says, before heading out.

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” She calls out.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

“See,” Isaiah exclaims, “I knew you had some wicked cool ideas in that head of yours.”

They sit across from each other, sharing her binder that she’d been filling up, ever since the morning.

“That’s one of my favorites, too!”

After having lunch together like always, the pair headed back to her office, after she’d shared the news about a possible remodeling of the building.

“I like the thought of tinted glass windows. That might be cool.”

“Right? It’s so simple, but it’s so cool, at the same time!”

“I’m glad you’re excited about it.” He teases, making her laugh.

“I’ve been waiting for this day to come. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love how Abstraction looks. It’s cute! I’ve just always felt like it was missing something.” She explains.

“What’s missing?”

“Pizazz.” She deadpans.

Her expression is what took him out, even receiving a single clap. She took note of the way his shoulders bounced as she laughed along.

“Oh, you should’ve seen your face.” He chuckles. “But, that’s understandable. It’s not as colorful as you think it should be?”

“It’s fine, honestly. I don’t like things too bright, myself. But, it’s just old. We need something that’ll stay timeless. Something sleek, maybe? Bolder. Maybe, that's the right word. That’s why I’ve got all these ideas. I’m trying to figure it out.”

“Well, if you need any help, Jane’s also got an eye for design. That’s if you’re cool with that.”

She smiles. “Of course. Your friends are my friends.”

“As yours are mine.” They lean in for a kiss.

“I’m glad you shared the news with me.” A smile graced her lips, before she plants them back on his.

“You were the first person I told, actually.”

His brows raise, making her laugh.

“Isaiah, please.”

“So, I’m special? Is that what that means?” He asks.

“Yes.That’s what that means.”

He nods, before leaning back in to kiss her. His hand slides up her arm to cup her cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

He pulls away as they begin to get lost in the kiss, making her frown, yet regain her composure.

“What are you doing after work?” He asks, standing from his chair.

“Mercedes invited Taylor and I to go see her boo perform at the poetry club. I’m not really in the mood to go out, but I promised her I’d support,” she shrugs. “You wanna come with me?”

“Will it get the frown off your face, if I say yes?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

Like clockwork, her pout turned into a smile.

“There she is.”

“Get out.” She laughs.

“What time am I picking you up?” He asks.

“I was actually gonna come and get you. You know.. since I invited you out, I thought I’d take it off your hands tonight.”

“Oh, alright. What time should I be ready, ma’am?”

“Six thirty, sharp. Sir.”

“Six thirty-one, got it.”

“Isaiah.”

“I kid, I kid.” He blows her a kiss, before heading out.

Sliding her binder back towards her, she jots down a couple more ideas, before closing it up.

A knock sounds at the door. She gets up to pull it open, revealing none other than Jane.

“Hey, Jane.”

Their smiles mirror.

“Hey, Mya. How’s it going?”

“It’s going great! Come on in.”

“Wow, I think your office might be cooler than mine, girl!” She compliments, looking around.

“I try to spruce it up in here a bit, you know?”

“Indeed.” She sits across from Mya. “So, I heard you’ve got a project underway.”

“Mmhm, I also heard that you have an eye for design.”

“Would you look at that,” she laughs, “looks like I came knockin’ on the right door.”

“That, you did.” Mya joins in on the laughter, shaking her head. “Isaiah works fast, doesn’t he?”

“Not usually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him work this hard.” She says, making Mya’s cheeks flush red.

“Well,” she clears her throat, “there’s a first time for everything, right?”

“Indeed. He really really likes you.” Jane stresses.

“I really really like him, too.”

Quickly changing the subject before her cheeks burn any more, she reopens her binder.

“Okay, so I’m in the process of remodeling this place, and a girl could use all the help she can get.” She starts.

“Wow, that’s huge, Mya! Also, I’d love to help you!”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. Let me show you what I’ve got so far!” She excitedly flips through her pages, landing on one of her other favorite ideas.

“What if we take a more colorful approach? Change the dull blues and yellows to a splash of orange and pink, maybe? Sleeker lines and more modern furniture.”

“I like it! What would the individual offices look like?”

“The default color could be olive green or if anybody wanted a custom color, I’d be open to it… maybe even some prints, Ms. Cheetah lover.” She points out.

“I’m a dead giveaway, seriously.” She laughs. And it was true. Her earrings, as well as the fur lining of her blue jean jacket was cheetah print.

“It’s cute! Cheetah’s always in, especially with fall being right around the corner!”

“That’s true. So, when does this start?”

“I’m not sure, yet. We’ve got the seminar in November, which isn’t too far away. I guess I’d start after that.”

“Oh yeah, the seminar.” She smiles. “Isaiah’s going to the Gold ball. I’m so excited for him.”

“Yeah, me too. He deserves it.”

“You’re going too, right??”

“I am! I’m still in shock over it, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I guess, I second guess myself. I just don’t always see the potential that other people see.” She admits.

“That’s understandable. It can be kinda tense, sometimes. You ever feel like people put pressure on you to be the best?”

“Yeah! But, I feel as if it's second nature to some. Like, they don’t mean any harm, but they leave you feeling anxious as hell, anyway?”

“Girl, you just explained my life. That’s why I just do my job and go home.”

“See, and that’s exactly why we need a revamping of sorts! I want this to be more than just a job. I want it to be somewhere that we love to be. A place where we can create and share. Where we can grow. This company deserves that. Savannah deserves that.”

“She couldn’t have picked a better person for the job. If nobody else tells you this, I will. You deserve to be in this place.”

“Thank you. That really means a lot. You deserve to be here, too!”

“Thanks!”

They share a laugh.

“Hey, we should hang out sometime.”

“I would love that.”

They exchange numbers, before Jane heads for the door.

“Well, I’m glad I stopped by. Isaiah said he’d kick my ass if I didn’t come and say hi, like we’re not cool.” She rolls her eyes. “Boys.”

“Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em, I guess.” Mya laughs.

“I suppose. I think I’ll be fine, honestly.” She snorts. “Anywho. You have a good evening, Mya. I’ll see you around.”

“You too, Jane. Thanks, again.” She salutes, before letting herself out and closing the door behind herself.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Mya and Gina sit at her kitchen table after she'd returned home, as she’d just shared the news with her sister.

“That’s huge, girl! I’m so proud of you!” Her sister exclaims.

“Thanks! I’ve been getting that all day.”

“Duh, as you should. What did ma say?”

“She thought it would’ve happened sooner, of course. She’s even come up there and told Savannah how much a revamp would boost her company and I guess she finally listened to her.” She shrugs.

“That woman never stops.” She shakes her head.

“No. No she doesn’t.” She laughs.

“What about your boo?” The way she emphasized the last word made Mya’s cheeks heat up for the thousandth time today.

“Ugh,” she presses her fingers against her temples. “He’s very proud of me. He was the first person I told, actually.”

“Wha— you didn’t tell Mercedes first?? Ooooooh!” Gina starts cracking up.

“Gina, stop! You know that girl would have my head if she knew that. I didn’t mean it, I just kinda blurted it, cause he’s so pretty and I love when he’s happy for me.” She rambles.

“Girl, you sound like you’re in love.”

Mya’s brows scrunch up. “That’s a little extreme, no?”

“I mean, it’s not usually your style, but this isn’t just casual dating for you. You really like this man.”

She shamelessly agrees. “I do. I really do. But, it’s okay, this time. He likes me, just as much! If not more.” She giggles.

“And, Mercedes likes him!! He must be quite the charmer, cause that lil devil don’t like nobody.” They laugh.

“That’s what I told him! She surprised the hell out of me, when I saw them choppin’ it up. I knew he’d crack her though.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s real. He’s calculated, but not in a conniving way. He’s so sweet, he’d make you blush, just by being himself. Such a dork.” She snorts.

Yup, definitely in love.

“So, when do I get to meet him?”

“When do you want to meet him?”

“Now.”

“Gina, it’s almost seven thirty on a Monday night. I know we were already hanging out tonight, but you don’t think that’s a little short notice?” Mya asks.

“Hm… yeah, I suppose. Well how about tomorrow?”

“After my meeting, yeah. That should work!” Mya agrees, quickly texting Isaiah.

“And he said that works for him, too!”

“Guess I'm meeting the beau, tomorrow!” Gina cheeses.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

And surely after her meeting, the pair met her older sister at Panera for lunch.

“Wow, you're much cuter than she described,” Gina blurts, shaking his firm hand.

He smiles, holding out Mya’s chair as they get seated.

“Thank you, thank you. It's nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh, we've all been dying to meet her knight in shining armor!”

“Gina,” her younger sister playfully warns.

“What??”

“Knight in shining armor, huh?” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair.

“That might've been what I said,” she playfully rolls her eyes, looking away from him as soon as he looks in her direction, giggling to herself.

“A sight,” Gina shakes her head, smiling at her sister.

“So, what do you do at Abstraction?”

“I’m one of the executive web developers. Photoshop is where I reside, most of the day.”

“Ah, that’s gotta be cool!”

“Yeah, most days. Sometimes, it can be a pain in the ass. It’s a very tedious process, depending on what part of the website I’m tryna pick apart or what I’m trying to create.”

“Ooh, so you’ll be helping Mya lay out the revamping on the website? Or have you guys talked about that yet?”

“We haven’t talked about it yet, no. But, it sounds like a good way to get your name out there!” Mya adds.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna impose on her project. I know how much she loves those.”

“This is true, but I’d love for you to be a part.”

“Whew. For a second, I thought I said too much.” Gina laughs.

“Girl. Anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. So Isaiah, how long have you and my sister been dating?”

“It’s been about a month and some change, yeah?” He looks to Mya, who nods.

“How cute! You seem like a nice man.”

“Anything for her.” He smiles.

“We love to hear that!”

“Mmhm,” Mya agrees, taking another bite of her sandwich.

Gina’s phone begins to ring. She looks down at it and sighs. “I’ve gotta take this. I’ll be right back.”

Excising herself, the two are left alone.

“She don't play about you, either,” he says, making her giggle.

“Not one bit! She'd probably get you before Mercedes.”

“No worries, I'm on my best behavior for you,” he promises, leaning to kiss her cheek, repeatedly.

“Cut it out!” she laughs and covers the side of her face, fanning the heat away from her cheeks.

“Hey y’all, it looks like I’ve gotta head out.” Gina comes back to the table.

“Sorry our time got cut short, but this was great! I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you.” She smiles, mirroring the couple’s like expression.

“Yes you will.” He answers, matter-of-factly.

“Thank you for lunch, sis.” Mya says, standing to hug her sister before she heads back to her office.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Ending their evening together like usual, the pair are winding down inside of Mya's home.

She finds Isaiah on her couch, flipping through her channels. She joins him, laying her feet in his lap.

“Is this what I look like when I come over?” She questions.

“Hell yeah. You kick your feet up and everything. I won’t do that, though. Coffee table’s too nice.”

“Mm, saved by the bell.”

“Saved by the bell!” He nods. “That used to be my show, man. Poor Slater.” He frowns, making her do the same.

“Yeah, Lisa was pretty bad off, too.”

“It sucks how life does people. You’re either at the top or at the bottom.” He shakes his head.

“Or you’re stuck in the middle.” She adds.

“True. Very true…” he continues to flip through, before landing on Living Single reruns.

“Oh look. It’s our show.” She claps.

He smiles as he sits the remote down, his  left arm finding the back of the couch.

“Our, huh?” He asks.

“You like the sound of it too, huh?”

“Indeed. C’mere.”

She scoots closer to him, naturally relaxing as he wraps his arm around her. He kisses her forehead, making her swoon even more.

[royaltealee]

Deathly silent

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀʟᴏ'ꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏᴍᴇᴏ'ꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏꜱ. ᴅᴏ ʙᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴᴇᴅ!

Carlo x Puppet!reader

⚠️ Trigger warning's⚠️

Descriptions of a plague sickness, death, sad sad times and blood.

Part 1/2

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

The ticking clockwork echoes in the stillness of Gepettos workshop. Automated gears singing a ticking tune, keeping its pace, never faltering.

Little Carlo plays with a small ball jointed doll, black hair almost covering his face while resuming on posing the doll how he wanted.

A small smile painted his lips, cobalt blue iris keeping its figure as he sets the doll standing.

Taking a note pad, he gently lines every detail of it, soon, it takes shape.

Hair, eyes, clothes, everything in his imagination, coming to life in a single sketch of how he wanted to shape this plain doll.

Showing his father his sketchpad, the puppet maker quickly got to work.

Moulding the exact proportions his son drew, Carlo watching every second of his father's work.

Once the puppet was finished, it was the same size as the boy, Ergo rushed through its wiring, newly obtained and springing to life.

Carlo talked with it, watching as it clung to every word he spoke.

Geppetto's son now has a friend.

And Geppetto can peacefully get back to work.

_____________

He never expected this to happen.

The puppet that kept Carlo company, listened and stayed by his side...

Started to grow.

Not just physically, but mentally. It's mind shaped ideas, concepts, and jokes. Carlo laughed at every single one of them.

At first, he had only made the doll-like puppet to just be a toy for his son to keep him busy while he worked...

It was an interesting sight indeed.

Its hair grew longer... And it even explained that it could... Quite possibly a dream.

It was no longer an IT anymore.

But it was doing no harm... So the Puppet maker paid no mind.

___________

As both of them grew, Carlo grew more distant towards his father. You stayed by his side, talking with the boy from day in, to day out.

It was never a boring day for the two, even as Carlo started going to school... You would wait for him.

Till one day, he brought over another boy. Around the same age, blond hair cut into a short bob. From what you could tell, he was from the same boarding school as Carlo, from the matching uniform.

Carlo introduced you first, calling your name.

"This is Romeo, Romeo, this is my friend,"

"A puppet?"

"Yeah- please don't call me that... My name is fine."

You corrected quickly, a smile gentle on your face as you reach out a hand, the wiring of gears still being heard with every move.

Romeo carefully, and hesitantly took your hand.

Eyes widening only a tad, looking at Carlo, then snapped back to you dumbly.

"Your hands are soft. And warm."

That caught something in your gears, laughing a bit when the boy blushed in embarrassment as Carlo too started to laugh at the absurdity.

"They've always been warm and soft!" Carlo laughed.

"I didn't know! Automations are usually cold and hard! Like metal!"

Romeo clapped back, straightening up and grossing his arms, grumbling in his defense.

This started the friendship between the three of you. The hardships that would happen between Carlo and his father would slip into silence, a somber sad silence whenever Carlo would ask for a bit of his father's time... Only to be told later.

Lies that the boy hated.

And you could only watch, the sinking feeling only growing worse as the years went by.

_____________

"Go to school? With you?"

You asked, as if the very idea was a grueling puzzle. How could a puppet like yourself need school?

"Why not? Have you ever wondered what you could learn?"

Carlo asked, insistent on the idea. His graduation was next year... And he wanted to share that with you.

And he had hope his own father would be there, he'd have to! It's his own son's graduation for God's sake!

You thought for a moment, you've always stayed in the vicinity of the workshop, not a rhyme or reason other than to be close to the only person who could fix a couple of loose bolts if something were amiss.

But it was only Krat city, surely it's safe enough for any Puppet, right?

What could hurt?

____________

You were given odd looks down Krat city hall, you looked nothing like the usual puppets that Geppetto has created, fresh gears turning and auto generated voice lines from newer puppets, little to no life in their eyes.

The spare uniform that you had borrowed from Carlo fit nicely on you, considering that your proportions almost matched the smiling boy beside you, none the wiser with the questioning looks of others.

Making it, the both of you entered, you immediately saw a familiar head of blond hair, sitting next to two empty seats.

Carlo takes your hand and takes you towards the boy.

Romeo, was suffice to say, shocked to see you, in school, in a uniform no less.

"Is this even allowed?"

He whispered, glancing at the raven haired boy, who gave a cheeky smirk.

"I may have pulled a ...few strings." Carlo smiled, sitting down and looking uncharacteristically poised.

"What does THAT mean??" Romeo asked, accusatory suspicion heavy in his voice.

Watching you sit down next to Carlo, fidgeting, like you were nervous.

And he couldn't blame you, the eyes that trailed your figure were more curious and confused.

Some had to do a double take when they entered class.

You could hear the talk, surrounding your table, the clicking of your fingers stopped when a teacher had finally entered the room.

A broad smile graced his face as he took a seat when everyone went quiet.

Class would start with you questioning why you're here.

And it would end with you wanting to learn more.

________

When you were "asleep", your body

was usually stiff as a board.

Standing in your designated area while your body shuts down. But lately, you haven't been able to get comfortable.

Why would a puppet like yourself need to get comfortable?

It caused you to shift, to the point of settling on sitting down on a chair.

It was acceptable. For now.

But you kept on waking up with clear pictures in your mind, horrid pictures of burning buildings... An unfinished film hidden in your wiring that had made no sense... You had thought initially that these were human dreams.

But they just kept coming back, more excruciatingly detailed than the last...

It didn't help that they only had gotten worse when Carlo had to stay at the school due to his father not being able to take care of the poor boy...

Yet, he still held hope that he would be there for his son, on his special day.

Even when news about a suspicious murder that happened just weeks ago.. something in your gears telling you to do... The most absurd things.

Like grabbing something... Blunt, and hitting someone over the head.

Morbid thoughts that wanted to break your working wires and rework them into something less...

Human.

You then felt a gentle shake, your eyes slotting open to find the Geppetto boy, clad in his uniform, but what was amiss

Was the usual framed smile that he wore every time he was with you.

Your brows knitted, he looked tired, eyes puffy, red from either crying or lack of sleep.

Or both.

He had come home in the early morning to see you.

"Why are you back this early? You'll get in trouble for leaving your dorm room."

You saw his face sour, not expecting to be scolded.

But felt his frame lax when you pulled him into a hug.

"It's good to see you, Carlo."

"Me too,"

Your name passed his lips lightly, letting go of the hug after a while, warming your body in a way that caused you to melt.

But getting a better look at him, you saw scrapes and cuts littering his cheeks and arms. Suddenly alarmed, you rest your fingers against a gash against the top of his head.

"Carlo, What on earth happened?"

The boy quickly took your fingers in his palm and held it to his chest.

"I'm okay, me and Romeo were just training. Romeo got me good... But I knocked him down too!"

The boys obsession to be a Stalker nearly made you question if they were insane, few bolts loose perhaps?

But it was unfruitful when they hadn't changed their minds on their 18th birthdays. So much has happened, and so little time has gone by.

Carlo had become a young man so quickly that you almost felt left out.

You too, should be in the same age range as the two boys, but something blocked you from truly being grown.

And you knew.

And it hurt so much.

__________

Today was the day, you wore something quiet fitting for a day like this.

A year had passed by extremely quickly, it shocked you.

Walking down to the workshop, you knocked.

A muffled "yes?" Answered. Promptly causing you to enter.

"Mr. Geppetto? It's me. Do you know what today is?"

The man had paused, bringing his glasses up to check the calendar next to the many boxes of puppet parts that were left to be used later.

"Ah. I don't think I do? Please, enlighten me."

"It's your son's graduation from the academy."

The puppet maker winced at the tone you held.

Turning to the clock that hung from the ceiling.

"I... I simply do not have time..."

He finally answered. Lowering his eyes from your burning ones.

"Carlo... Carlo has been looking forward to this...! You can't just NOT go!"

"I need to get this done.. perhaps if I finish quickly, I'll be able to go..."

You stepped forward, fists locking hard against your sides.

"You've said that all your life! Carlo needs this!"

"Watch your tone..."

"HE'S YOUR SON!-"

"QUIET, THAT'S AN ORDER PUPPET."

You felt your jaw automatically lock.

Body stiffening against the restraints... He's... Never given an order to you before.

It felt uncomfortable, unnatural.

But your body stayed planted to the ground, as Geppetto walked towards you, gripped your shoulders and looked you at eye level.

And gave you orders.

"You will go in my place. Be there for him, congratulate him, and tell him that I love him, and that I am proud."

Orders that you must follow.

__________

You sat in the rows of seats, waiting for Carlo's name to be said, congratulating him for his hard work.

Romeo's name was called, looking over, he sees you waving, excitedly waving with a big smile.

You waved as well, yelling congratulations to the blond boy.

Looking behind him, was the familiar fluff of black hair, and icy blues that peaked at the crowd.

He looked around expectantly, smiling first when he locked eyes with you, and feeling his face flush when you screamed a congratulations to him.

But, felt his face fall when seeing the empty seat next to you.

Reserved for the only man he wanted to be there.

You instantly saw how his face formed a small frown, eyes cast down into sadness.

It grinded your gears, almost painfully so. Right where your stomach and heart should've been.

It should've been his father here.

Not you.

__________

After the ceremony, you, Carlo and Romeo stayed past leaving hours.

Sitting down in front of the school, both boys still in their ceremony gowns, caps thrown somewhere in the hall.

Both were in conversation while you just stared point blank at the busy street.

It wasn't until you felt a hand that had been placed on your back

Turning slightly, to see both boys staring at your brooding.

It felt... Consoling.

"I'm sorry that your father didn't come... I tried to convince him, but... It didn't work out."

You sighed, if only you had tried hard enough, broken free from those commands... Maybe, possibly, he could have been here.

Carlo's fingers twitched against your back.

"Don't."

You looked up quickly, seeing Carlo's face shift with anger. Bubbling in his gut was something you've never seen before.

"I wouldn't care if he'd died right here and now. So don't think it was your fault for his damn actions."

Looking back at Romeo, he dug into his shirt, feeling around till he held out a necklace.

Pulling it from his neck, he handed it to the boy next to him.

"Here, Romeo. To break my bonds to him, and to solidify our friendship and my admiration to you, till the very end."

Romeo gently took the relic in his hands, gripping it to his chest and nodding, a look of finality showing past his face.

Carlo finally looked at you, pulling out something from his pocket, it was a ring. Imbued with Ergo, the blue material shaped to look like a cut diamond.

A look of shock graced your face, holding the precious item in your palm.

"I made this... To show how much I care for you. You've been by my side when my father hasn't. And I want you by my side forever more. You were never just a puppet to me,"

He had slipped on the ring for you, watching as the band glided against your ring finger.

Having him hold your hand tightly against his, warm and secure.

"You are my everything."

That made you shortcircuit-

Unable to completely say the words, Romeo just laughed hysterically at the look of your face.

Causing you to leap up and bonk the blond on the head with a closed fist.

"Ow!!! That hurt! You're made of metal!"

Yeah.. you could get used to this.

_________

"I want to see them..!"

Carlo cried, throat dry and burning.

His fingers were completely solid against the hard shell that had encased half of his body already.

His skin turned almost deathly pale from loss of blood circulation and blue blood.

He couldn't move, but that didn't stop him from using his strength on the last bit of voice he still had left.

He called out to both you and Romeo, daily.

Geppetto couldn't see his son like this... In pain both physically and mentally.

When the puppet frenzy had started, you had disappeared.

Out in the dead of night, possibly killing humans, or already dead by the many makes shift weapons that the people of Krat had made themselves.

Carlo, having contracted the petrification disease.

"You can't see them right now son..."

"Why can't I?! They're my.. my.."

Carlo felt something bubble from his lips, spitting out a slurry of blue blood.

Coughing harshly against the tightness against his chest.

The crystals forming around his face surely didn't help either.

Cold, cold was another horrid feeling he felt.

Is this what you felt on a daily basis without the warmth of his hands?

It was unbearable.

"Carlo... Please get some rest."

His father pleated, using a rag to wipe his son's mouth from the putred stuff.

Carlo became deathly quiet, aside from his rugged breathing, he had kept his eyes up and buggy.

Hoping, pleading that you'd come back.

Just like you've always had.

__________

Blood dripped from the crevice of your hands, even getting between the grooves of your ring.

You had only one thing in your mind.

Kill

Kill

KILL

Anything that moves, breaths, or twitches, kill it.

But you never remembered finding yourself scaling an entire mansion and breaking open a window that felt so familiar to you.

Your body janked to one side of the room to the next, stumbling blindly, trying to search for anything that you could grasp on.

Your body stopped completely when you heard a groan.

A very tired groan coming from the other side of the room.

Slowly but steady, you reached your hands out, ready to break whatever neck you could feel...

You suddenly felt warm.

"You... You came back.."

You heard your name, come from the weak lips of someone you were close with.

His frighteningly cold hands reached to hold your broken face.

"You... Came back..."

He repeated.

"C̴̀͐ͅǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ?"

Your voice wasn't the same anymore, voice box crackled with broken wires and flood of oil and Ergo. But he still smiled against his cracked and bloody lips. Reminisce of the Puppet language hard in your voice.

Your fingers were still itching, getting closer to his neck, really wanting to put him out of this painful reality, you fought instead to scoop him up against your arms.

Holding the dying boy you had grown to love.

He felt so heavy against you.. and he only grew heavier when he laid his head against your hard shoulder.

Feeling a long your hand with his, crystal-like fingers staining with the blood against your caked ones.

Feeling the band against your finger.

"You.. are my... everything."

He went deathly silent.

••••••••••••°°°°••••••••••••

This is my first time sharing my writings with Tumbler, hope ya like it ✨

[unreliablesnake]

Sharing is caring – part 2 (Phillip Graves x reader x John MacTavish)

Summary: Soap doesn't want to cause drama so he doesn't give in to his needs. But then your try to persuade him through your boyfriend.

Note: part 1 / These two have some weird relationship, right? / If you wanna know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

“Mind if I take this one?” You looked up from your book and glanced over at the empty lounger next to you. Once a smile showed up on your glossy pink lips, you nodded, and Soap couldn’t help but gulp. “Thanks.”

He took a seat next to you, then put his glass on the small table between you and took off his shirt. It was easy to tell you were watching him like a hawk through your sunglasses, and behind the casual facade, he was already losing his mind.

You were right there, offered on a silver plate by your husband, or boyfriend, or whatever the hell he was to you, and he was feeling like a stupid teenager again, terrified of the possible consequences of making a move on you. What if both he and Graves read more into your friendly behavior?

“He told you, didn’t he?” you asked him with the same damn smile. At first he played dumb, pulling down his own sunglasses enough to give you a questioning look. “So he did. That’s okay. It’s better if you know what you got yourself into by coming here.”

Soap pushed the sunglasses back to their place and leaned back on the lounger. “Even if he told me, I wouldn’t want anything from you. You’re taken, and I don’t want drama,” he told you.

Fuck, no, that was a lie. He wanted every piece of you, he wanted to see what you were offering. Hell, he needed to know, otherwise he would surely go crazy around you during those four days he was planning to spend here. But despite Graves himself giving him the green light, he still didn’t feel like it was right.

You let out a long sigh before standing up and sitting on the edge of his chair, your fingers absentmindedly tracing his abs as you began to talk. “There would be no drama. We both spend time with others sometimes and it has never been a problem as long as emotions aren’t involved.”

“How do you make sure no emotions will be involved in the end?” he wondered out loud.

“I love Phillip. I would never leave him for someone else,” you answered, sounding completely sure about it.

But Soap wasn’t convinced. “And if it just happens?”

“Are you afraid I would fall for you?”

“Well, I mean, I know about the effect I have on some women,” he replied with a smug smirk. You let out a carefree laugh upon hearing his words, then picked up your glass to take a sip from your drink. “But jokes aside, you’re really not afraid of this happening?”

“No,” you replied casually.

This made Soap think about the offer. He found you attractive, he wished he could have some fun with you, but he was a guest here, Graves was his friend, so it would have been weird to have sex with you with him in the house. It was a tough case, although he didn’t really see how this could work out.

Eventually he closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but you. It only worked for five minutes, because then he felt you sit down on the edge of his seat and clear your throat. “What is it?” he asked.

“Talk to Phillip. If he tells you the same thing, would you reconsider your answer?”

Soap let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

This drew a smile on your lips. “Good. Go.” He blinked a few times and asked you if you meant right now. “Yes, now. Please,” you added as you leaned closer until your lips touched his.

You were hesitant or you were just waiting for him to make a move. Either way, Soap could feel his cock twitch in his boxers, and he so desperately wanted to kiss you, but something told him he shouldn’t do it. So he put a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you away.

“I’m sorry,” he said before getting off the chair and going back into the house.

Inside Graves was sitting on the couch with his laptop in his lap, but when he noticed Soap approach him, he closed the lid and put it on the coffee table. “Why do I have a feeling you turned her down?” he asked, earning a grunt from the sergeant who sat down on the other couch. “Man, I’ll have to handle her cranky self now,” he noted with a sigh.

The Scotsman looked over at the Shadow with a questioning look, wondering why he said that. Was he trying to guilt trip him into sleeping with you? This relationship was fucked up if that was the case, and a part of him was already considering leaving for a moment.

“Look, she’s used to getting what or who she wants, if you turn her down, she’s gonna be upset. Why did you do it anyway? I’ve seen men trying to impress her, they can get truly desperate, even when she’s clearly not interested in them,” he explained. “But she likes you, it’s clear as day.”

“You’re dating and it seems to be serious,” Soap began once he checked to see if his host was wearing a wedding ring. “I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“You wouldn’t,” Graves assured him with a laugh. “In fact, I’m seeing someone tonight to give you some time alone.”

“And she’s not worried about that?”

“How many times do you want me to tell you? This is an open relationship. It might not work for others, but it sure works for us.”

Soap gulped, gathering the confidence to ask about the details. “Can I ask you something?” When the other man nodded, he went, “How often do you guys sleep with others?”

Graves thought for a moment, as if it was a complicated matter. He knew there were highs and lows in the relationship that affected the answer, but it was hard to figure out how often it happened since they didn’t really keep track. “It depends. Sometimes about once a month, but other times our relationship is so good we don’t even think about seeing others for months,” he said in the end.

“How long have you been together?”

“For about five or six years, I think.”

The sergeant let out a thoughtful hum. “Haven’t you considered marrying her? She could be your trophy wife,” he suggested with a cheeky grin.

But the other man just rolled his eyes. “She’s more than that. Much more,” he corrected himself before stopping for a moment to look out at you. “But I’m not sure she wants marriage.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No. Why?”

“Maybe you should.”

“Nah, I’ll wait for her to tell me when she’s ready.”

Soap stretched his legs and arms as he leaned back. “And that’s how you’ll end up living as boyfriend and girlfriend for the rest of your lives. That’s the problem with people, they don't talk to each other anymore,” he said, sounding like an old man to the commander.

With a huff, Graves picked up his glass from the table and raised it to see how much he had left from his whiskey. He didn’t want to admit that his friend was right. The idea of marriage had appeared in his thoughts several times over the past years, mostly when he updated his will and his lawyer asked him about you.

But you were enjoying this lifestyle, you weren’t the type to drop hints about marriage left and right. You always said you were happy you could be this open with each other. When you decided to move in with him, it only happened because living apart was becoming inconvenient with all those heated nights you wanted to spend together between his missions.

“I’m bored.” Graves felt your arms sneak around his neck from behind as you spoke, leaning close to his ear. “Your friend is really mean,” you complained quietly so only he would hear.

He turned his head to the side to give you a quick kiss. “Or you just pounced on him two seconds after he arrived and he’s still in shock,” he informed you with a smile. “Give him time, baby.”

With a sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Don’t leave tonight,” you asked him before placing a soft kiss on his shirt.

“I can’t cancel last minute,” he told you, his voice still calm and steady despite the need to pull you over the couch and spank you for being a brat.

From your groan he could tell you were rolling your eyes at him. “I canceled two months ago because you asked me to,” you pointed out.

“Fair enough,” was all he said in the end.

“Maybe we could try something new tonight,” you began as your lips traveled up to that sensitive spot behind his ear. “Why don’t you ask him if he would like to join us? Maybe he would say yes sooner if he knew you were one hundred percent on board with this.”

“And if I’m not on board?”

You let out a low chuckle. “Next time it’s your turn to bring someone to play with us. Please?” you asked sweetly, your hand moving from his chest towards his jeans.

But Graves was quick to catch your hand and pulled it up to his lips. How could he say no to you when you were all sweet and seductive? You always got what you wanted, he knew it was probably partially his fault, so why would it be any different now?

He glanced over at Soap who was looking anywhere but in their direction. “Hey, John, she has an idea. Why don’t you join us? In bed, not at dinner. Well, there too, obviously,” he said with a smile.

Soap gulped loudly at the thought, his brain short circuiting from this information. His gaze moved from Graves to you, and he saw that pleading look on your face that he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore. So that’s how you wanted to play? Fine. Let’s see who chickens out first.

[elementaldoughnut12]

"My Boyfriend Is A Cute Nerd"

*Warning this does involve CM Punk and if you don't like don't read! I made this for a friend so be nice!*

*This fluffy punkintyre fic is for my friend @thlayli-ra ! Hope you enjoy!*

Punk was a bit worried to keep it short. He was wandering around the nearly empty arena for his boyfriend Drew. “Drew! Where are you sweetheart?” Punk yells out with no response in return. Him and Drew were just casually eating and sitting on some crates in the hallway when Drew yelled “dammit!” and covered his mouth. Punk asked him what was wrong but Drew just ran away without saying anything. 

Now, Punk is still walking around and trying to find his boyfriend. “How the fuck do I lose a tall, burly Scotsman?” Punk says to himself. The last place he hasn't looked yet was their shared dressing room. He walked to the door and opened it up a bit to see if Drew was in there. He saw Drew was in there but was frantically rummaging through his gym bag. “Come on! Where is it?” Drew says worryingly. 

Punk watches as Drew sighs in relief but then his eyes widen in shock when he sees Drew pull out a tiny white bag. “Drew?” Punk says as he goes into the room. Drew's eyes widen in shock as he tries to hide the bag behind his back. “Are you using cocaine?!?” Punk asks as he walks towards Drew. “No! It's not what it looks like I swear!” Drew says truthfully as Punk gets in his face. 

“Gimme the bag Drew” Punk says seriously as he puts his hand out. Drew gulps knowing he isn't gonna win this argument and shakily gives Punk the bag. “Seriously Drew! You're an amazing wrestler! There's no reason you need… rubber bands?” Punk questions as he looks at the bag. It says “Dental Bands” with a green turtle logo on the front. 

“Why do you have dental bands babe?” Punk asks curiously as he looks at Drew. “You're gonna l-leave me if I told you!” Drew says through tears as he covers his mouth. Sensing his boyfriend was actually upset about what he would think about, Punk puts Drew's face in between his hands. “I would never leave you for some silly rubber bands babe” he says truthfully as he looks into Drew's eyes. “You promise?” Drew says quietly. “I promise” Punk says as he kisses Drew's forehead.

Drew sighs as he removes his hand and gives Punk an awkward smile. Now Punk understands why Drew has rubber bands, his boyfriend has braces. Two rows of metal run along Drew's teeth with silver and blue brackets topping them. “You have braces?” Punk says as lets out a little laugh. “You're making fun of me!” Drew says as he tries to get away from Punk. “No I'm not! It's actually kind of cute!” Punk says truthfully. 

“Really? You're not gonna leave me because of this?” Drew asks curiously. “Why would I leave you? I had braces when I was a kid” Punk says as he strokes Drew's cheek. “You might think I'm a nerd” Drew says as he looks away. “Wow! I may be an asshole but I would never leave you cause you look like a nerd” Punk says as he pretends to be offended, causing Drew to laugh. “Can I put my regular clothes on now?” Drew says through laughter. 

“Yeah yeah! Go on and put on your sexy dilf clothes!” Punks jokes, causing Drew to blush and grab his bag to change in the bathroom. “So all those times you got suspended you were actually getting fitted for those?” Punk says as he scrolls through his phone. “Yeah! I couldn't afford them when I was younger so I thought I'd finally get them so I can finally show my teeth when I smile when they get taken off!” Drew says truthfully from the bathroom.

“Why didn't you tell me you were getting them?” Punk asks curiously. “I didn't want you to worry about me! Plus I didn't wanna distract you from focusing on Summerslam!” Drew says as Punk hears him zip something. “You're just excited that you're gonna get your ass kicked by the best in the world!” Punk says smugly. “In your dreams babe! Ok I'm done!” Drew says as he walks out the bathroom. 

“Great! Are you ready to go… oh wow” Punk says in shock as he looks at Drew. Drew had his hair up in a low ponytail and he was wearing black rimmed glasses with thick lenses. He was also wearing a green shirt with a pixelated picture of Zelda and Link on the front with a pair of purple sweatpants with a retro MTV logo on the side and a pair of blue Converse. To top it all off he was wearing a black fanny-pack around his waist. Punk thought Drew looked absolutely adorable. 

“Punk? You ok?” Drew asks worryingly, interrupting Punk from his thoughts. Punk just smiles as he walks up to Drew and gives him a quick kiss. “Sometimes I forget how cute you are when you have your glasses on” he says affectionately, causing Drew to blush. “C-Can you help me put my bands in? My other one snapped when we were eating earlier and that's why I ran away” Drew says shyly. Punk forgot he still had Drew's bag in his hand and smirked at him. 

Without warning, Punk gently pushes Drew onto the bench and straddles his waist. “Open wide!” Punk says with a smile as he opens the bag. Drew blushes immensely but opens his mouth regardless. Punk pulls out a rubber band and gently hooks it on the back brackets of Drew's braces. “There you go beautiful” Punk says with a wink, causing Drew to blush even more. He then leans in and kisses Drew deeply. He feels Drew whimper under him as his tongue rubs against the metal brackets. 

“Ready to go? I'll order us pizza from room service” Punk says as he pulls away and helps Drew to his feet. “S-Sounds like a plan” Drew says shyly as he looks through his fanny-pack. “Oh no! Where is it?!?!” Drew says with a panicked tone. “Looking for this?” Punk says with a smirk as he hands Drew his inhaler. “Where did you find it?” Drew asks curiously as he takes a few puffs from his inhaler. 

“You left it in my bag by mistake” Punk says with a laugh as he pulls out his phone. “Sorry” Drew says embarrassingly as he puts his inhaler back in his fanny-pack. “You don't have to apologize to me, you know that right? Anyways, let's take a picture together!” Punk says excitedly, as a way of trying to make his boyfriend feel better. 

“Are you sure? You don't wanna wait til I get them removed?” Drew asks hesitantly. “I'm not waiting two years to take a pic with the love of my life” Punk says truthfully, causing Drew to smile as he stood behind him. “Ok smile!” He says happily as he takes a picture. He looks at his phone and sees Drew beautiful smile in the picture. “Who knew my boyfriend was a cute nerd?” Punk says affectionately. 

Drew smiles even more and gives Punk a quick kiss. “I love you so much” Drew says with adoration in his tone. “Love you too big guy! Now come on! Pizza awaits!” Punk says excitedly as he grabs Drew's hand and marches towards the door. Drew just laughs as they leave the arena knowing that he would never have to hide himself from Punk because his boyfriend loves him regardless of what he looks like. 

[xxmarcxline]

001 - THE GETAWAY CAR - “enchanted!”

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

ENCHANTED MASTERLIST!

By no means do I support R*wling’s biased views! This profile is meant to be a safe space promoting escapism <3

TW: none ( although, please feel free to message me if you believe i missed some!! )

THE WEASLEYS’ FLYING CAR LET OUT A distant honk that broke the quiet of the woodland night. It drew your gaze off the several critters that chittered in annoyance as you set your sights on the sudden brightness from the other side of your window.

For two months—two months too long, Harry Potter had given you and everyone else no sign of life. He had yet to reply to any of the mountains of letters you, Ron, and Hermione had sent over the eight weeks that had passed.

That day at King’s Cross Station, he had asked everyone to keep in touch over the summer, that everyone (he not-so-subtly turned specifically to you, Hermione and Ron affirmed upon exchanging a silent gaze) remember to send their owls and exchange letters about everything and nothing at all. And that had been exactly what you did—that was the case for three of you, at least.

At first, golden boy’s silence had been, what you believed, was but a delay of Hedwig’s travel. Godric knows that poor owl would lack nutrition in a madhouse like the Dursleys. But as weeks, and eventually, months went by, all three of you had grown all the more concerned, eventually evoking this ingenious escapade.

“You have got to be joking!” you breathed, jaw slack in awe as you tugged your window open. “Please tell me at least one of you has a clue about what you’re doing. . .”

The redheads simply grinned, exchanging a humorous look between them, as though a joke had been told and you were the only one who lacked its context. Ron was leaning out of the back window of the old turquoise blue car, which was parked in midair.

“Stupid question,” he scoffed in amusement. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t, now would we?” His tone was almost incredulous as you stared at the three brothers, eyes blown wide and locks going a shade of bright blue and lilac.

The near-silent squeaks from the top of your head drew everyone’s attention to the little bowtruckle that had climbed from its original place on your shoulder. “Oh, ‘ello Bowie!”

The said creature only chittered angrily. Unlike your puffskein and that troublesome owl, Hermes, Bowie hadn’t been as pleased with the thought of sharing you. Having been present from when you were but a babe wrapped in blankets and to this day, stood in a sweater and trousers before the open windowsill, he has grown in your company and become an extension of you; leaving your side for Hogwarts had not been a choice, as he snuck into your pockets, just as he had every time you left the cottage.

“I was under the impression that we’d be flying there—”

“Exactly what we’re doing—” The twin sat in the driver’s seat (you believed it to be Fred) interjected dumbly.

“I meant on our brooms, you idiots!”

To that, they exchanged a baffled glance. To think they wondered how you’d known about their illegal flying contraption.

“Never you mind,” Ron shook his head, “Now come on! We’re burning moonlight!”

You only gazed at them for a moment more. It was an astonishing, and admittedly impressive sight. Without a thought of self-preservation, you climbed aboard the flying contraption, not a care in the world for the ground that promised great risk fifteen feet below you.

As the car took off and you glanced to where your father stood, waving you goodbye, you couldn’t help but fear that this would be the last you would see such a sight. While you trusted your friends deeply, you hadn’t a clue if your life was truly all that safe in their fumbling hands.

“You wouldn’t happen to have some form of insurance, would you?” you gazed at Ron’s elder twin brothers, who grinned at you from over their shoulders. “And what the bloody hell is that supposed to be, little Miss Mood Ring?”

To that, you could only sigh, gazing down with pursed lips as Bowie moved to hide within your sweater’s pocket.

This was going to be a particularly long night.

Time passed rather quickly for the four Gryffindors, blanketed from Muggle eyes by the car’s invisibility feature.

Meanwhile, at number four, Privet Drive, Harry Potter dreamed he was on show, in a zoo, with a card reading ‘UNDERAGE WIZARD’ attached to his cage. People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw. He saw Dobby, the house elf from earlier in the crowd, and shouted out, asking for help, but Dobby called, “Harry Potter is safer there, sir!” and vanished. Then, he saw you, effortlessly pretty with your bowtruckle atop your head as always, gliding through the crowd unbothered, clueless of his struggle. He wanted to call out to you, beg for you to save him, when the Dursleys appeared and Dudley rattled the bars of the cage, mocking his pleas.

“Stop it,” Harry muttered as the rattling pounded in his sore head. “Leave me alone. . . cut it out. . . Please. . .” your name spilled his lips as he muttered in his sleep.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on his window. And someone—rather, a pair of familiar faces were giggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone alongside the very face he had subconsciously conjured and yearned to see again.

Ron Weasley and [Y/N] Black-Lupin were outside Harry’s window.

TAG LIST 🏷️

@mythicalmo @jjsblueberry @edmundstxrch

( Leave a comment if you wish to be added to future tag lists ^^ )

[rubykgrant]

Hnnnnnnngggggg I'm so in love with Poppy I want to know so much about her, sexuality, gender, interactions with all different characters in and outside the Blood Gulch Crew, weapon preference, vehicle if any, just everything omgomgomg she's so pretty and cute and hot omg hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Haha thank you~

Poppy started off as like... a couple different vague ideas for different characters? Then I really began to refine them more, and it all combined into Poppy. I have a lot of fun with thinking about her interactions with the main group of characters; she meets Sarge first, when he's asked to lead a "special training program", and he immediately likes her because she back-talks all the time (Sarge claims to want soldiers that always follow his orders, but a being rebellious is actually much more impressive... and it helps him realize this training program is Not Good. Papa Warcrimes doesn't trust the military anymore? A sign of the apocalypse! It also makes him realize how much he misses his Red boys and the Blues... the fact that they weren't "perfect soldiers" was a GOOD thing, and the way Carolina, Wash, and Locus got chewed up and spit out is also standing out in his mind).

While the training is still going on, Tucker shows up to give an example of Freelancer techniques (Sarge initially asked for Wash or Carolina, but they're busy; Wash is looking for the Triplets, and Carolina is digging up info on Hargrove. Tucker jumped in saying HE'S had Freellancer training, he basically IS a Freelancer, let him help!). Tucker wanted to make an impressive entrance, arriving early to surprise everybody... but after his ship left, he fell down a hill. Luckily, the only one around to see was Poppy, who helped him up and promises not to tell everybody he ate dirt. When she introduces herself using her first name, Tucker kinda pauses for a moment before answering with his- Lavernius (so, rather than coming in like the Impressive honorary Freelancer Hero with the Cool Laser Sword, Tucker and Poppy first meet and are just. Regular friends. Which is nice~). When some of the training actually starts, Poppy plays it up like- "Oh, hello Captain Tucker, nice to meet you", and it's just a big inside joke between them

When Sarge eventually decides to just destroy this whole whole program, he brings Poppy with him- "Look everybody! We got a new Red!". Simmons is IMMEDIATELY ready to utterly HATE her. Sarge is giving her attention? Kill/death/die/murder/destroy... but then she says- "Sarge told me you like Star Wars. Did you ever watch the Ewoks cartoon? My favorite character is Wicket" and that just defuses him. Simmons brain decides- Oh, sibling? Sibling! Seriously, Simmons rarely gets to make a new friend like some of the other characters do, and I thought it would be very funny if he thought he was gonna hate Poppy, but nope! They get along just fine, and Simmons has a friend. Also, new people often tend to gravitate toward Blue Team (Carolina is arguably not ON any team, but she's friends with Wash and shares a connection to Church, so she's kinda just. Over there. Doc is not specifically ON either team as well, but because he's close with Donut, he's kinda-sorta unofficially over there haha). So, Locus and Poppy are the new Reds!

Part of her backstory involves Poppy once being assigned to a group of Flag Zealot Reds and Blues; she was supposed to be the person who determined if they needed more supplies/weapons, etc. Fpr whatever reason, these guys were all on a first-name basis. Red Team had Jed, Ted, and Fred. Blue Team had Hue, Drew, and Lou. So, Poppy has been in the habit of using her first name rather than last names like the Blood Gulch crew. When her Reds and Blues ran out of ammo, they just started harmlessly pranking each other, which Poppy thought was better than ACTUAL lethal fighting, so she just never ordered more. Both teams decided they all liked Poppy, and so she was never the target of any fighting (if anything, they only fought over who liked her more). It was loud, and stupid, and annoying... Poppy loved these guys. One day, an old and forgotten mine that had been buried went off, and Poppy rushed in to save the guys. She got injured in the process, and while she was unconscious/recovering... somebody from Temple's group came by to try and recruit more Flag Zealots. Hue, Drew, Lou, Jed, Ted, and Fred refused to join. When Poppy woke up, her Reds and Blues had been killed (the a-hole that did it turned out to be Gene. Not only does Poppy find a new home with the Blood Gulch Reds and Blues, but it is extra meaningful, because when everybody runs into Gene again, she doesn't get the so-called "similarity" between him and Simmons- Gene sucks, and Simmons doesn't piss her off)

The illustration I did of Poppy with traditional art shows her before she got injured helping her own Reds and Blues; after that incident, she actually had to get a cyborg prosthetic arm (again, she mirrors Simmons in a lot of ways). When everybody finally meets her, she's about 32 years old, but thanks to being a little short with rounded features, she looks a bit younger. Her main armor color is white, with accents of tan (if I could get a little artistic about it, I'd call it dusty-rose). The armor of her shoulders/arms looks a bit like Florida's during his Freelancer days (I just like the design of it, and it would help her look different from other characters who previously had white armor... also, with her armor being white, Red Team truly is the Lesbian Flag haha). She's trans, and chose the name of a flower because she "picked it herself"~ Poppy has a calm yet sarcastic personality, with a raging inferno of a temper once somebody ticks her off. A very go-with-the-flow attitude, somebody who can be comforting and encouraging. She feels her painful emotions VERY deeply, and freely cries when upset (or lets somebody feel the wrath of her temper once she finally reaches a breaking point). Poppy has been through a lot, but is fully aware of her own physical abilities; she's strong, sturdy, and a capable fight (maybe not very fast, but hard to knock down, even harder to keep down). One of her skills is messing with audio communication, and her favorite trick is to play annoying songs as a distraction

[overnightheartbeats]

"Super comfortable." Laurel glanced down at the blue hoodie, and nodded in agreement. Julia's words eased her confusion, and after some consideration, Laurel understood. Not everyone got to know this louder side of him, as she phrased it. It just seemed so obvious to her because of how long she'd known him. "Okay, that's fair. I didn't think of that." The neat comment drew a laugh from her, shaking her head. "Is Aaron still leaving socks everywhere?" She felt a warmth rush to her cheeks at her question, "yeah, he did," a wider smile forming as she answered and the memory flooded her. "I was, I had to call and share with you. It would've been even more fun with you and Aaron. He has the best laugh too, I'm always saying the most ridiculous things, just to make him laugh."

"I know I didn't fuck up in the traditional sense. I didn't cause the accident." Though, her snarky self quickly pointed out she inadvertently caused it for not clocking what was wrong with the mission much earlier. "But, I know what you mean." Living in the pity party was not helping anyone. "He is very stubborn, I hope you're right. That we can fix this, and he can forgive me." Her head hung low, shaking it slowly. "I know I have to keep my head straight, but I can't..I can't think without him," she admitted. How dependent had she become? Laurel leaned on her friend for another moment, resting her head against hers. "Thank you for keeping me sane," she mumbled, reaching down to squeeze her friend's hand. "I-I, yeah I need to do my part. I need to update his partner, and I should call Isaac too. He needs to know, I guess I'll call him after the shower."

As promised, Laurel did not protest and let her friend undo her hair. She could never repay this, the love and care she was giving her. It was the only thing holding her up, Julia probably knew that already. She felt her eyelids getting heavy with Julia's touch, the bit of comfort was helping her settle in. But, her words quickly snapped her out of it. Had she spotted another surprising Eli trinket? "What is?" She looked over at her friend before following her gaze to the dresser surface. "I-I'm actually not sure. I haven't been in his room since the day before yesterday." She stood up from the bed, her hair sliding off Julia's fingers as she walked over and looked down at the item that had caught her friend's attention. It was a necklace she recognized, dainty chain with a tiny crescent moon charm. One she had been eyeing for a while, but Laurel couldn't place when she had told him. The necklace remained on the dressed while she picked up the note. She didn't feel worthy of picking up the sparkly item right now. The handwriting was so familiar, her fingers traced over the ink as she smiled to herself, reading the list of movies. Like everything else they did, another inside joke between them. It wasn't until the end of the note, her heart aching once more. An apology. One she didn't deserve. "It's a...list, movies we wanted to watch. It's also an apology, for pissing me off," the dry chuckle escaped her. What a mess she had made, and she couldn't even tell him to take the apology back. "And, a necklace. I've actually been wanting it for some time, but I don't know when I told him. Maybe he wanted to give me the note when we got back."

"You have to admit they're much more comfortable than our own clothes," she eyed the blue hoodie and smiled. Julia noted her confused expression and chuckled softly. "I don't know actually. He's just so different. It's like seeing the louder side of Eli in this room. It's also very neat. So, he went because you wanted to go?" A knowing smile spread across her features. "I remember your smile and you raving about it. He was in the background and I only saw his hand but he waved and then laughed when you said you were out and about with half a limb." The memory made her laugh and thought back to the moment when she should have realized he'd do anything for her. Even go to the park.

"No, you didn't fuck up. You need to stop beating yourself up over this. I know it's easier said than done but trust me. When he pulls through you two will fix it and then you'll laugh looking back. He will pull through. Didn't you say he's too stubborn to stay down?" She knew this was nothing compared to what Eli could provide her and Julia wasn't the person she wanted to hear it from. "Lala I know the unknown sucks because you like answers but all you can do is be patient. He needs you to have your head straight. If you know him he's doing all he can to pull through." Was he? She wasn't sure but it was the best thing she had at the moment.

Julia started on Laurel's hair and couldn't help but stare at the little trinkets around the room. A sparkly little thing caught her eye. As it was before Eli left that morning he had written a note for Laurel. It was just a piece of paper that had a list of movies they needed to cross off in the next coming weeks. He had made it funny until the end of the page where he apologized to her for whatever it was that pissed her off he did. He wasn't sure what it was but he still wrote it in hopes that laurel would come into his room and see the note.

"What's that?" Julia asked as she held three pieces of hair between her fingers.

[ophelia-jones]

thorns part 5

* (contains graphic sexual content) *

As had become their habit, Daryl and Lacey were up early and outside the gates. He was quieter than usual, which was really saying something because he was the epitome of 'a man of few words'. 

Lacey was too nervous to speak - Daryl was hard to read. Was he regretful of the kisses they had shared? Upset that she was pregnant, wondering about the father? 

"You feel safe goin' a little farther away than usual?" He muttered finally, his deep, gravelly voice piercing the silence like music to her ears. It had been several days since her confession, and it was the first time they had been able to be alone together.

"I'm up for it." She agreed eagerly. In all their explorations of the forest surrounding Alexandria, they had not encountered any signs of Saviors looking for her, though she was naturally on the lookout for them at all times.

If she had been trapped inside Alexandria's walls 24/7 she would go crazy. This was where she thrived - she had been raised in the wild. She and her father and brothers lived in a tiny, rundown mobile home - well, they slept in it, but they lived in nature. They were outside far more often than in.  She knew the woods around her northern Michigan home as well as any other animal which resided there. She needed the smells, sounds and sights of nature. Even before the outbreak, she had been this way. Her friends used to say she was raised by wolves. 

Though she was fully recovered from her injuries, she had to push herself to be able to keep up with Daryl. Her swelling belly was not yet an encumbrance but his long legged strides were a challenge to match.

"Where's the fire?" She joked, out of breath and starting to sweat from exertion. He half smiled, slowing his pace.

"Sorry. You ok?" He asked, eyeing her up and down quickly.

"Yeah, just not used to moving quite so quickly from point a to point b. I assume there is a point B? You have a specific destination in mind?" 

"Yeah, I do. It's not much further." He told her, reaching down and taking her hand in his. She thrilled at his touch, trying not to grin but she couldn't help it.

It wasn't long before she saw a small, weathered cabin appear, and felt a flutter in her chest. What was happening?

"It's not much." Daryl finally said as they reached the door of the cabin. Several windows were boarded up, and the door had been fortified as well.  The wallpaper was peeling inside and the floors were dirty. But there was a kitchenette with a perfectly fine table and chairs in one corner and a ratty old easy chair near one of the windows that still had glass instead of being boarded up. There was one door, slightly ajar, which revealed a tiny bathroom with 1970's fixtures. 

It was the far corner that drew her eye, however. The floor had been cleared of dirt and debris and there was a big brass bed which was probably over 100 years old. It looked as if it had been freshly made up with clean sheets and blankets. Beside it in the windowsill was a beer bottle vase with a bouquet of wildflowers. 

"I stay out here sometimes, when I need peace and quiet." He explained.

"Is this where you have been disappearing lately?" Lacey asked, running her fingers over the faded bedspread and then bending to smell the flowers.

"I needed to think." He shrugged, smiling slightly and looking away. He put the pack he was carrying down and withdrew his canteen, offering Lacey a drink before he took one himself. She sat on the edge of the bed and it squeaked and groaned. She laughed nervously.

"So…" she said, letting the words hang in the air between them for a moment. She didn't continue until Daryl met her eyes with his gaze. "I was emotional, and maybe approached my feelings differently than I should have." She said, and he frowned and looked out the one open window. She saw the way his arms flexed and his jaw clenched and hurries to finish her thought before he got the wrong idea.

"But I meant what I said, about you. Us." She stammered a bit nervously. He shifted back and forth awkwardly before moving to sit beside her on the bed. 

"Is there something you wanted to ask me? You seem like something is on your mind." She said, watching him stare at his folded hands.

"I, uh…" he sighed and looked up into her eyes. "Why? Why do you want to be with me?" 

Lacey was shocked. She had been prepared for him to ask who the father of her baby was.   "Daryl Dixon," she smiled, reaching up to stroke his cheek with the palm of her hand, then run her fingers through his freshly washed hair. "You are a rare find. I have never known the sort of kindness from anyone in all my life as you have shown me." She scooted herself over until their sides touched, pressing her leg firmly against his. 

"You are a good man." She finished, gazing up at him in a way few, if any, ever had.

"I ain't good," he scoffed. "I've done terrible things. I'm not good at much except hunting and surviving, never have been. I …" he pursed his lips together and sighed.

"Everyone has done terrible things. We have to if we want to survive." She told him, her hand subconsciously moving to touch her belly, which had become firm and begun to swell. He glanced at her hand.

"Did they… hurt you? The saviors?" He asked quietly, an undertone of fury in his voice. He would gladly kill every one of them if they had hurt Lacey, and she knew that. 

"I don't like to talk about it, it's complicated… and what's done is done. No sense in wallowing, it won't change anything." She said, looking down at his hands and reaching over to take it in her own. 

"I understand if it makes you not want to be physical with me." 

"I didn't say that." He growled down at her, biting his lower lip nervously. Laceys pulse jumped and began to race. She didn't know what to say, so she just smiled at him. "If that's what you wa…" he started to say, but Lacey laughed.

"You talk too much." She said, stretching up to press her lips to his deliciously warm, soft lips. He actually chuckled against her mouth, and his happiness was the only thing Lacey cared about. She wanted to make him happy for however long she could. She opened her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss and he accepted with an eagerness she had not expected from the shy and reserved man. 

He groaned slightly before exploring plunging his tongue into the depths of her mouth, firm against her own tongue, making her shiver. He smiled against her kiss and continued to kiss her with lips, tongue and even teeth; nipping at her lips until her mouth was kiss swollen and her whole body was awash with desire. 

His hand was in her hair, his fingers closed tightly to hold her right where he wanted her as they kissed - and even when he withdrew from her mouth he held her firmly as he kissed all down her neck to the curve of her shoulder where he could see her rose tattoos peeking out from the collar of her shirt. 

Lacey had her arms wrapped around Daryl's waist, up under his arms, her hands clinging desperately to his back until he could feel her nails in his skin despite the shirt he still wore.

"Oh…" Lacey sighed, as one of his hands rested against her lower back to draw her in closer. Her eyes fluttered shut and she accepted his attentions with abandon. He released his grip on her hair so his hand was free to slide up her side and cup her breast, kneading it almost painfully. She was already gasping and breathing heavily, she realized - it was a desire that had built faster than she had known before and she wondered absently if it would burn her alive. It would be worth it, she thought as his calloused hand found the sensitive bare skin along her side, slipping up to find her breast again, rubbing a rough thumb against her already peaked and tender nipple. The whimper this drew from her lips made him growl and move his kiss back to her mouth to claim it once more. He was like a man in the desert diving into a cool, clear lagoon. His hunger for her was so intense she couldn't think of anything else.

She began to unbutton the army green button down shirt he was wearing, and his hands left her for a moment to shrug off his leather vest, then finish removing his shirt. His broad chest was spattered with rough blonde hair along his sternum and pecs, and scars from who knows what here and there. He had several faded blue tattoos that reminded her of the ones she had covered with the roses. Skulls and other traditional biker tattoos which had most likely not been done professionally. She kissed the scar on his chest, above his nipple and he stiffened. He was momentarily self conscious of the scars he bore, and her hands could feel that there were a great many criss-crossing his back. She refused to so much as acknowledge them; he didn't need to worry what she thought about them or think of the things which had caused them. Instead she lowered her lips to catch his nipple between her teeth before soothing the sting of her bite with her tongue. Daryl hissed and his focus was brought back into the present. 

He slid his hand into her hair again and made her sit up, not ready for this to be over and if she kept teasing him it would be over sooner rather than later.  He pulled her shirt up over her head and her hair cascaded down over her shoulders and came to a stop just above her full breasts. His eyes were heavy with lust and he pushed her back onto the old bed, ignoring the creaks and groans from the spring mattress and bedframe. He lay between her legs, both hands grasping her breasts eagerly, kissing and tasting them, tugging at her nipples with his teeth until she whimpered and arched her back - her hands were both in his hair as he traced his tongue down over the slightly protruding mound of her belly and he opened her jeans. She lifted her hips and he tugged them off, his eyes holding her gaze as he did. She bit her lower lip in anticipation, the intensity of his gaze felt hotter than the sun against her skin. 

Once she was thoroughly and completely naked before him, his eyes washed over every inch of her, his fingers tracing the roses that were tattooed all around each thigh and up onto her hips. He slid further down the bed and began to trace the lines with his tongue and Lacey cried out at the intimacy of the act. Her hips jolted upward reflexively and Daryl took the opportunity to slide his massive hands and forearms under her, spreading her legs open with his elbows and leaning in to run the tip of his tongue along the sensitive pink skin which was exposed now, opening to him eagerly. 

He flattened his tongue to caress more of her, to open her up further before finding what he was searching for and sucking on it hard enough to send a wave of electric sensation through her core, a sound exploding from her mouth which could only be described as raw. Animalistic. Primal. 

He smiled against her skin and slid first one, then two rough fingers inside her, still using lips, tongue and teeth against her clit to keep her squirming and whining. Her hands clutched the sheet as he began pumping his fingers in, deeper and faster each time until her hips were lifting, meeting his rhythm and grinding her wet pussy against the feeling of his rough beard. The mix of soft and hard sensations were all consuming and she felt the pull toward her core, as if every bit of her energy was balling in her wet, aching pussy. She cried out again, her hands burying themselves in Daryl's hair as he hoisted her hips even further off the bed, replacing his fingers with his tongue and reaching around to rub her clit in deep circles with his thumb. She screamed his name as she clenched down against him and her whole body jerked with the intensity of her orgasm. 

She was still trembling and panting as he sat up, wiping his glistening mouth with his discarded shirt and turning to smile proudly at her. She actually laughed out loud at the smile on his face, but it only made him smile more.

"What?" He growled, standing and sliding out of his jeans. 

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" She said playfully, regaining some control again. He chuckled and slipped onto the bed beside her. The feeling of his bare skin against hers was heavenly and she pressed against him to get as much as she could. He moaned slightly, and it sent a jolt of desire through her and made her throb. 

She wanted more of this Daryl - relaxed, pleased - happy. She kissed him, a deep lingering kiss that built slowly back up into the intense desire he had stirred in her. She rubbed her hand over the impressive mound in his underwear and he moaned against her kiss. She slid her hand under the waistband and grasped the length of him firmly, barely touching the tip with her thumb back and forth until he broke the kiss to growl down at her.

"You're asking for it," he moaned.

"Yes, I am." She replied biting her lip and raising her eyebrows. He chuckled again but then growled when she squeezed him in her grasp and began pumping her fist. He jerked his hips and reached up, taking her by the shoulders and claiming control once again. He flipped her over on her back and slid out of his underwear, his length bobbing as he moved, hard and throbbed for her. He slid up to hover above her, gazing down into her eyes as he took his cock in hand and ran the tip of it along her entrance rubbing against her tender flesh in slow circles until she was slick with desire again. 

"Wait wait…" she told him, rolling over and rising to her knees, wrapping her hands around the brass headboard firmly, shoulders down, ass up.  She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was admiring every inch of the view. He groaned and shook his head at her, his fingers caressing her slit again.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" He joked breathlessly. She smiled at him as he lined himself up against her and began to push in slowly, stretching her until she felt like she might split in half. She felt the pressure of his tip against her cervix. He held perfectly still as her body melted and formed around him, growing accustomed to the way he filled her. She wiggled her hips slightly to let him know she was ready.

He moved slowly at first, pushing all the way in until he was balls deep and then pulling almost completely out - his hands grasped her hips tightly and guided her movements as he watched the way his cock grew wet; her pussy swollen from his attentions. His breathing was coming faster now, pants and gasps and moans that made Lacey wetter, somehow, than she already was. 

"Daryl, please… don't be gentle…" she breathed and his growl was feral as he began to snap his hips sharply in and out, their skin slapping and the sound of their joining wet and visceral. He slipped a hand around and planted the pads of two fingers on her clit, pressing it hard, creating a pulling sensation as their hips rocked against each other and quickly bringing Lacey to her peak again. She came hard against the length of him, clenching almost painfully - dripping wet now and with one last violent thrust he buried himself and she felt him throbbing deep inside, growing hot with the waves of his release.

Once his breath returned, the noise he made was almost a whimper. He pulled out and she felt his fluids sliding out like a waterfall, sticky and hot. He fell hard onto his back beside her, one hand over his eyes as he caught his breath. 

Lacey smiled and wrapped herself up against his side, her head on his shoulder, hand against his heart. She draped an aching leg over his midsection wanting to keep this feeling as long as possible.   Daryl fell back into his silence but it wasn't the least bit awkward. They didn't need words, their hearts beating against one another said everything which needed saying in that moment.

Later, they dressed slowly, still gazing deeply at each other, studying their lover as if wanting to memorize them. Daryl opened the can of peaches he had brought in his bag. They shared the sweet snack, licking the juice off one another's lips more than once. They talked of nothing in particular and laughed like much younger lovers, giddy with this feeling. 

Finally, the day was beginning to wane away.

"We need to get back before dark." Daryl told her with a sigh.

They made their way slowly back to Alexandria, often holding hands and completely unaware they were being watched.

[smaptain-smerica]

Female Reader x Rooster

Time: Post-Top gun: Maverick

Y/n Blackwood - L/n, daughter of Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood. Y/n took a strong interest in planes from a young age. Knowing her father was an esteemed pilot drew her even further into the navy. Quickly, she became one of the best solo pilots and graduating at the top of her class at Top Gun.

Her next mission? Return to Top Gun, Face certain death, romantic interests, and finally, her thought-to-be-dead, father.

This book contains strong language and sexual content that may be sensitive readers under the age of 18

This story was originally posted on Wattpad, follow me on there for faster updates. I have published a non-binary version of this story published there for those who do not identify as female or use she/her pronouns. It will follow the exact same story line. Link to Wattpad Account Link to the Non-Binary version

Master list

Whenever You're Ready

I must have read that letter 5 times sitting in front of Maverick. The silence between us was deafening, I could hear everything, but nothing at all. Every time my chair squeaked it made me jump, but the sound of the air conditioner and the footsteps outside were inaudible.

I finally gathered the courage to look at Maverick. He had his head in his hands, making it a point to breath slowly. Finally he looked at me, his eyes meeting mine. We stared at each other, unsure of what to say.

I took the letter and handed it back to Maverick. He looked down at the letter, taking it in his hand and then placing it aside. Then he did something unexpected. Maverick stood up and walked around the table.

Instinctively I stood up too, my heart beating out of my chest with anxiety. Our faces met and I could see the glossiness of his blue eyes. They were red around the edges, clearly despaired.

There was a silent understanding between us, nothing more had to be said we both just knew. He took his arms and wrapped me in them. I reciprocated, hiding my head into his chest as I let out a shaky sigh. All the emotion left my mind and my body all at once the moment I was engulfed in his arms. It felt weird, after one letter, someone who was a total stranger to me now made me feel safe, comforted, and loved.

Tears were inevitable. I could feel myself shake as I breathed and Maverick's grip only tightened around me. It was hard reading that letter. I heard my mothers voice while reading it. I had no idea she felt that way about Pete. She always told me they were old friends who had a falling out. Her life was moving too fast for him to keep up so she never reached out.

We pulled apart from the hug and Maverick left his hands on my shoulders. We stared at each other, me still not knowing what to say. "Wow." Pete sniffled his nose, letting out an astonished laugh. "Um, come over for dinner. I'll make dinner and- and we will talk."

I nodded, a small smile curling up onto my lips. "Okay."

Maverick smiled, moving his hands to either side of my face. I could see his eyes moving around every inch of my face. He let out a breath of relief along with the smile. I couldn't help but smile back. The realization he had on his face, the relief.

"Now I know how you got so good at flying." Pete commented. We both shared a laugh, our red faces and teary eyes bright again with new found joy.

"It's the Pete Mitchell blood." I winked at him with a playful nudge.

"That just means I can push you as hard I want, huh?" He joked back at me. "Oh please don't." I groaned.

Maverick pushed me towards the door despite my complaints. "You better be ready for tomorrow then. Here is the address." He quickly grabbed a sticker note from his desk and scribbled it on there. " I need to talk to the Admiral about this, there's probably a mile long list of paperwork."

I nodded in understanding, reaching for the door knob and opening the door gently. "I'll see you tonight." Pete called at me, a weak smile. I nodded, stepping outside the door and shutting it behind me. I leaned back against the door and let out a long breath that I hadn't realized that I was holding.

Tears brimmed my eyes as I let out another shaken breath. I wiped my eyes and sniffled loudly to clear my airways.

"Y/n." The voice caused me to roll my eyes. I looked to my left and saw Bradley standing there. He looked awkward, like he didn't know what to do or how to approach me. I could see the guilt in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Why did you think I would lie to you? Lie about getting into the program and to this mission? I worked hard, I worked my ass off to get where I am today, as good as I am today. I did it by myself. Why was that so hard to believe?" I was angry, anger boiling up from deep within me as I took a few steps closer to Rooster. There was about three feet of space between us now. He simply stood there, shocked as I came closer to him.

"You had to much to say before why are you silent now?" I demanded.

"Because I was scared, okay?" Rooster finally snapped back at me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at the sudden raise in his voice.

"I was scared, because I recognized your name on the roster for this mission. And I was scared that I would lose Pete to you." We shared a moment of silence, nothing but our angered breaths filling the air. Rooster took a long breath through his nose then out through his mouth.

"My dad was best friends with Pete. They flew in the navy together then at Top Gun together. Then he died. He died when I was 4 and I resented Maverick for pulling my papers from the navy and killing my dad up until last year. Now, I go over to his house for dinner, I'm friends with His girlfriends daughter and I pick her up from school because her friends think she is cool when I do. I was scared that was going to get taken away from me and I would have nothing, again. I was holding a grudge against you and that wasn't fair."

"Bradley."

Our attention turned to behind us, where Maverick stood in the doorway of his temporary office.

"Oh fuck." Bradley hissed under his breath, grabbing his hair with his hands. He brushed past me, walking towards Maverick and then into the office, the door closing forcefully behind them. I closed my eyes and sighed, shaking my head.

"What is happening to me?" I question the universe, making my way towards my room to change and shower, hopefully clearing my head about this whole situation.

~~~

I was nervous, beyond nervous to go to Mavericks house. I would have been nervous before but now knowing he was my father? Let's just say my hands were sweating. I rounded the corner, and pulled up to the house with the corresponding number from the note Maverick gave me.

I noticed, an all too familiar vehicle parked in the driveway. I pulled up right behind it, my heart beating faster in my chest. Bradley's Bronco. What was he doing here?

I put my head down on my own steering wheel, closing my eyes tightly as I calmed myself down. "You can do this." I encouraged myself.

I stepped out of my car, shutting the door and then walking around to the passenger side door. I struggled with what to bring. Was it complimentary to bring the host a gift? I thought, maybe i should bring some food. I can't cook anything I'm living on the air base. I thought about wine; but do I bring red or white? Maybe liquor to make some cocktails; what if he was allergic to whiskey for some reason? Truth be told, I didn't know Pete at all. What I did know, is he would drink beer.

I picked up my 6 pack of Budweiser bottles from the passenger seat and stood upright, straightening out my dress. I don't get to go out that often, wearing the dress made me feel pretty, special even. Although, I was worried I was overdressed. Would I be judged for my choice in outfit?

I walked up to the door and raised my hand to knock. Something stopped me, I retracted my hand as I could hear my heartbeat inside of my head.

I gathered the courage to knock finally, holding my breath as I went to connect my knuckles with the door. The door opened before my fist even reached the wood, catching me by surprise. I retracted my hand and was face to face with Pete. Our eyes met, staring wide at each other. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a deep blue button up top. The top few buttons were undone where I could see the white undershirt he was wearing. A red kitchen towel was throw over his shoulder.

"Y/n, hi. You look-" he looked me up and down, a soft and sad smile on his face. "You look just like your mother."

I felt a blush run over my face as I looked down, forgetting the drinks in my hand. I lifted it up to put in our eye levels. "Beer. I didn't know if I needed to bring anything or not, I settled on beer." I was suddenly awkward, not knowing what to say in this moment.

Pete grabbed the beer from me and chuckled a little bit. "Hey, I'll never turn that down."

I looked behind me back at the Blue Bronco parked by the street. "Hey, Um, is Rooster here?" I questioned, turning back around to face Pete. He sighed a little with a smile. "Yes. I know that we just met and... figured out the truth. But Bradley is part of my family. Along with my girlfriend and her daughter. I thought that we could eat dinner together. Then after that we can talk, and maybe you and Bradley can talk and get back on each other's good sides."

As if my anxiety couldn't be any higher right now, it somehow heightened. Pete opened the door, allowing me to walk in first. "Hey penny!" Pete called into the house.

"Yeah Pete?" A female voice called and walked out from the kitchen area. Her eyes fell on me and she smiled widely. It was the same woman from behind the bar on the first day that I got here. I gave her a weak smile and a wave.

"Hi, I'm y/n." I held out my hand to shake to hers. She ignored my handshake, pulling me into a hug. "It's so nice to meet you. Pete was so nervous, he wanted everything to be perfect tonight. I hope you don't mind him telling me about you."

"Penny..." Pete groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well I guess it's too late to care now." I laughed, giving her a small squeeze before pulling away from the hug from her. I looked behind her and saw Pete walking to the back door and sliding it open.

"Amelia, Bradley!" Seconds later a younger teenager came running into the house with excitement. "Is she here?" The girl asked, looking around the house before laying eyes on me. She smiled, waving at me.

"Hi, I'm Amelia." "Y/n."

Bradley came into the house wearing a pair of khaki shorts and his usual 'Beach boy' look. He let out a huffy laugh and took his sunglasses off as he entered the house. "Amelia you're so..." his voice trailed off as he laid eyes on me.

His face fell to surprise, eyebrows raised and mouth gaped open ever so slightly. Amelia elbowed him in the gut, causing him to let out his breath and draw his focus away from me. Amelia giggled loudly as she whispered something to him.

"Please, everyone take a seat." Penny encouraged.

The dinner went good. We had mashed potatoes, rolls, corn, and some deliciously seasoned fillets. Maverick sat at the head of the table with me to his left and Bradley to his right, straight across from me. Amelia sat next to Bradley and Penny on the other side of me. We made small talk, telling stories about basic training and the years of flight school.

I was helping Amelia and Penny clean up the table and bring some of the dishes into the kitchen. I was putting the left over food into Tupperware when Amelia came to my side, a large smile on her face.

"He likes you." She hummed in a sing-song voice. I twisted my face into confusion and tilted my head at her. "Who are you talking about?"

"Bradley!" She whisper shouted. "Amelia that's enough." Penny warned, holding a serving spoon in her hand and pointing it towards her.

Amelia motioned for me to come closer to her, which I did. "He kept looking at you at dinner and smiling. And he clearly liked your outfit earlier."

I felt a hot blush cover my face hearing this from a younger girl. I stood up straight, clicking the Tupperware lid onto the container. "Oh, I don't know." I stammered.

"Amelia don't you have homework to go do?" Penny encouraged her daughter, giving me a sly wink. Amelia then went off to her room with an exaggerated sigh.

Thankful to be released from the grasp of a teenager, I walked outside where the two boys were talking by the fire pit. Their attention turned towards me as I made myself present. I took a beer out of the cardboard case and popped the cap off.

Bradley excused himself inside and went to the kitchen to help Penny. I sighed, taking a seat in front of the fire and taking a long drink of the beer. I heard Pete sit down with a grunt as he leaned back in the outdoor chair. "This has been a weird day for both of us."

"Boy I'd say." I huffed out in a laugh as I stared at the fire and kept on drinking slowly.

"I know it's a lot to process. We haven't even had the chance yet to get to know one another. The only thing I know about you is you're a fantastic pilot. It almost feels unfair to shove two strangers together and call them family."

I stayed silent, unsure of what to say. What do you say in this situation? I looked over at Pete, his stoic face illuminated by the warm amber glows of the fire.

"I can't imagine how you must feel. Being lied too your whole life and not being able to confront the person for the lie. It's going to take time to adjust to but, whenever you are ready, I want to be there for you. I want to be a part of your life. I already missed so much, I don't want to miss a second more."

He finally looked over at me, a kind smile pulling on his lips. I returned the smile and nodded to him. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

He returned the nod and then took a drink of his beer. "You know I always wanted kids. I wanted to watch my son grow up and love planes and flying as much as I did. After your mom left, I never connected with anybody until Penny came back into my life. By then it was too late for either of us. I never thought it would happen. And here you are. You took after me, the love for flying and chasing adrenaline. Better than any son anybody could have asked for."

Pete held out his hand to me which I gratefully took in my hand. He gave me a comforting squeeze, rubbing his thumb along the top of my knuckles.

"Of course if you had said you wanted to join the navy I would have tried everything to stop you." We both let out laughs at his statement, I shook my head back and forth.

"Well I guess it's a good thing you weren't around then." I made a playful jab at Pete, seeing how he would hold up with the non-present father humor.

"Oo ouch!" He sarcastically said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze to show he didn't actually mean it.

From there we talked for hours about our favorite things. Foods, animals, colors, movies, anything and everything under the sun we shared. Eventually Bradley and Penny came back out to join us and we all shared in a few good laughs. I could feel the warmth inside of me. And no, it was not coming from the fire. It was joy, I felt so happy in that moment just talking with these people. My actual family and my Navy family merging into one. It was almost serendipitous.

Midnight came around, as Bradley pointed out. We needed to be off to bed before wake up the next morning at the base. I said my goodbyes to Penny and Pete. Amelia made a point to remind me of what she thinks was happening between me and Bradley before I left.

The front door closed, leaving Bradley and I awkwardly on the front porch. "That went better than I expected." I huffed, meaning for it to be mostly under my breath.

We walked down the pathway together and back to the street where our cars were parked. He walked me to my driver side door, opening it for me as I stepped inside.

"You didn't have to do that." I challenged him as he shut the car door.

"Yes, I did." Bradley leaned down into the rolled down window, putting his arms folded on the window sill. The smell of his cologne wafted into my nose and I savored it for a brief moment.

"Goodnight y/n. Drive safe."

"You too, Bradley."

With that, the smell was gone as he walked to his car and got in. I started the engine on mine and drove off back towards the naval base.

Next Chapter

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

[get-your-fics]

I absolutely ADORE Skinny Love for all that it is, but I can't help but think about what could have been, especially with the developments of The World Goes On. It sounds horrible but I almost feel bad for Edward, key word almost. I mean, if the reader hadn't found Edwards second apartment and things would have somehow developed between them naturally. Maybe before he gives himself up he confesses how he's always felt, pours himself out only to be exposed as a monster the very next day. I just think about it constantly and I'm sure I'm not the only one 😌. This isn't pressure to write anything on it I just wanted to share a little 😭.

a latte with a slice of pumpkin pie

Summary: What would've happened if reader had never found the apartment.

Pairing: Edward Nashton x reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Reader has a scar, part of a larger story with dark elements

A/N: i know you said no pressure, but you put this idea in my head and i couldn't get it out until i wrote it! sorry it took a while, but i hope it was worth the wait (it's a little long to be considered a drabble but i got carried away as usual)

You looked up when the bell rang on the diner door.

Your face instantly lit up as your best friend and roommate Edward Nashton walked in and approached the counter. Before he even sat on the same stool he always did, you already had his latte ready for him and slid the cup across to him.

“Here’s your latte.” You perked up, any exasperation you had been feeling before he came in evaporating into thin air. “You’ll have to wait a little bit for the pie. There’s a slice for you in the oven right now.”

You turned to go check on it when his hand shot out to grab your wrist. You stopped and looked back at him, taking in his appearance. He looked more haggard than usual, his hair slightly ruffled and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Usually, you’d chalk it up to the extra hours he’d been putting in at the office recently, but something told you this was unrelated.

He said your name. “Listen to me,” he huffed, panting. Had he been running? “There’s not a lot of time."

You frowned. “Is everything okay, Eddie?” Your brows drew together in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“You know I love you, right?” He was gripping your wrist so tightly it was starting to hurt, like he was clinging to you for dear life. “More than anything.”

You nodded. “Of course, Eddie. I love you too.”

He chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “Not like that.” He shook his head, a sorrowful smile on his lips. There was a pained look in his eyes. “I’m in love with you. I always have been, ever since we met.”

He had managed to take your breath away with just a few simple words. Your whole body tensed, like you were waiting for him to tell you he was playing a joke on you. You parted your lips, but you weren’t quite sure what to say. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I want you to know why I’m doing this.” He shifted his grip so he was holding your hand, your fingers intertwined. “I did it all for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Your gaze flitted across his face. “You’re starting to scare me, Eddie.”

“I don’t want you to be scared.” He turned your arm so it was laying palm up on the counter. He traced the faint scar on your forearm with the tip of his finger, a thoughtful, distant look on his face. “Do you remember when we used to sleep in the same bed together?” His lips quirked into a hint of a smile. “When you had nightmares so bad, the only way you could go back to sleep was if I stroked your hair?”

Your lashes fluttered. “I don’t understand,” you said. “You’re not making sense.”

“I want you to remember me like that, okay?” He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, a nervous tick. “No matter what anyone says about me.”

“Eddie…” You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Just tell me what’s going on. We can figure it out together.”

He covered your hands in his, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “Not this time.”

Your head was spinning, trying to put the pieces together. It was like he was speaking in riddles. He glanced back at the windows behind him, like he was expecting someone to show up at any moment. He was clearly on edge. You were used to his paranoia, but even this was a bit much for him.

“Maybe I’m making a mistake,” he muttered. He turned back to you, leaning closer. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you.”

You felt yourself being drawn towards him like a magnet, the edge of the counter digging into your stomach. “Go where? Why would you have to leave?”

He pressed his lips together. “I can’t explain.” His tone was desperate, urgent. “Just promise me I’ll see you again.”

You blinked at him. “Why?”

“Just promise me!” he insisted, his pitch rising.

“I promise!” you shouted.

At that, he heaved a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. You moved forward to press your forehead against his, staring him straight in the eye. “After all, we already promised to always stay together, didn’t we?” you whispered.

He subtly nodded, his eyes sliding shut. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He was so close now, only inches away. You could feel his breath ghosting your lips.

The moment was ruined when the door was thrown open. Your head shot up to see several SWAT soldiers and GCPD officers swarm the diner. They filed in silently, surrounding Edward with their guns drawn and aimed at him.

They ripped Edward away from you. You tried to lunge after him, but the counter got in the way. You watched in bewilderment as an officer roughly cuffed his hands behind his back. He started reading him his rights, but the words were muffled under the ringing in your ears.

Your legs carried you around the counter. “What the hell?” You tried to follow as they dragged Edward out of the diner, but one of the officers stuck out his arm, stopping you. “What are you doing? You can’t take him!”

“Ma’am, please calm down.” The officer didn’t budge an inch as you pushed against him like he was made of stone, his feet firmly planted. “We have every right to arrest him. He’s the prime suspect in the Riddler case.”

You felt like the world had turned upside down. “What?” You shook your head. “No, that can’t be right. You got the wrong guy.”

“We have a witness who saw him leaving the same apartment the Riddler assassinated Carmine Falcone from, just a few blocks from here.” His face was completely blank as he spoke. You didn’t understand how he could explain all this to you in such an unfeeling tone. “We followed him straight here.”

You couldn’t reconcile anything he was saying. The words wouldn’t sink in. “Ed!” You stood on the tips of your toes, peeking over their heads as he was shoved into the back of a squad car. “Ed!”

You tried to go to him, but the officers grabbed onto you, holding you back. “Please, stop! Let him go!” You kicked your legs, but they held strong. “He couldn’t have done this! He’s my best friend!"

You sank to the floor as you cried, your vision blurring with tears. Through the window, you thought you caught a glimpse of a man dressed in black, piercing slate eyes staring back at you from the shadows.

[hotch-stufff]

Kiss The Girl

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: angst, pining(lots of it), crying, arguing, but a fluffy ending, like super fluffy ending :)

Word Count: 3.7k words

Description: Hotch tries to deny it, but he's madly in love with you. He keeps getting this urge to just kiss you. Could it really be that easy?

A/N: not really sure what this is, but I was listening to that new cover of kiss the girl by Brent Morgan and I really wanted wrote this. It definitely took a turn i was not expecting, but I hope you guys love it as much as I do. :)

*Based off the song "Kiss the Girl"*

--------------

He loved you. It was no secret.

Everyone knew, everyone except maybe him.

Or maybe he did know, but he refused to accept it. He couldn't love you. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, why on earth did it feel so good?

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

He wasn't the best at sharing his feelings. He was good at locking them away, and throwing away the key. But you, you made that hard.

There was just something about you. It drew him in, and he was hooked.

Maybe it was the way you giggled when you were nervous. Or maybe it was the blush that tinted your cheeks when someone gave you a compliment. Maybe it was the way you showed Hotch the happiness he needed in his darkest times.

He wasn't sure, but he knew you were special. He was sure he knew exactly when these feelings had started. It was the night of Rossi's Christmas party.

You sat on Rossi's couch, laughing along with Morgan and Prentiss. They had made some very very inappropriate joke, that you just thought was hilarious. 

"Okay, h-hang on. I need a refill." You gasped out between laughs. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the wine before pouring yourself a glass.

"Hey." You nearly squealed as Hotch came in the room behind you.

"Jesus Hotch, could have given me a heart attack." He simply chuckled. "Yeah, laugh it up." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He tried to hide his smile.

"Yeah, you sound it." You walked towards him, giving him a soft smile as the teasing atmosphere faded. The room was empty, and you wouldn't be able to ever work up the courage again.

"Merry Christmas Hotch." You whispered as you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, gave him a small smile, and walked back to the living room.

Aaron stood there, shocked. 

Why had you don't that? Why had he liked it? Would you do it again?

The questions repeated in his head, over and over. And he realised that a peck on the cheek wouldn't be enough. 

He needed a kiss, a real kiss. Even just one from you and he would be satisfied for life. But that, was an impossible dream. Or, so he thought.

And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Months had passed since then and he still hadn't gotten another kiss from you. 

You two had grown increasingly close however. You were practically inseparable. Always at one of your houses, talking, watching movies, eating. You name it.

Although watching movies was usually with Jack, and currently he was stuck on repeating the Little Mermaid.

"Miss Y/n?" He asked one night.

"Yes Jackers?" You asked, looking down at the small boy.

"Can we please, watch the little mermaid with daddy?" He begged. He used those puppy dog eyes and you were sold.

"Of course we can." You heard a chuckle come from behind you and you whipped around.

"Didn take you long to give in, huh?" Hotch questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh shut it Hotchner. Go get the popcorn." He laughed and shook his head before walking to the kitchen.

Soon you found yourself wrapped up with the Hotcner boys. Jack was curled up on your lap, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep.

As you and Hotch watched the movie, he snuck glances every couple of minutes. He couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. 

And you were holding his son, loving him like he could be your own. It filled Hotch's heart with love and affection.

And then that song began playing softly in the background

Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

The lyrics spoke a truth that Hotch was desperately trying to avoid. 

But he didn't know how much longer he could go without telling you. In the moment he couldn't remember why he hadn't told you already.

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

It don't take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl

All he wanted to do was reach over and bring you into a kiss. Just a simple kiss. 

Just to feel your lips move together. Just for a second. He almost did. You had turned to look at him, and he leaned in slightly. His hand raising. 

But the shrill sound of his phone broke the trance. His hand receded before you could grab it. And he didn't kiss you.

You were filled with a disappointment that you couldn't explain. 

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my, look like the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, He gonna miss the girl

The music of the movie faded as a grim look replaced the carefree one on Hotch's face. 

"We'll be right in." He muttered out the words with disdain, sending you an apologetic look.

But you barely noticed, you were still trying to calm down the beating of your heart.

He was going to kiss you.

Did he feel the same way that you did?

All thoughts left your mind though as you felt Jack wake in your arms.

"Hey buddy." He looked up at you with the eyes he shared with his father.

"Do you have to leave?" Your heart broke a little bit at his questions.

"Yeah, bud. I'm sorry." He just smiled at you and burrows further into your chest.

"Its 'kay." He mumbled sleepily. "But we have to wait till Aunt Jess gets here so we can keep cuddling." Your heart swelled and your face lit up. Hotch was staring at the two of you, in awe. His son loved you so much. 

You looked over at him, a tear in your eye. He swallowed as he pushed his feelings aside, giving you a soft smile before getting up to get dressed.

He was screwed.

A couple cases later, and you were holed up in a precinct, everyone nearly falling asleep.

It was a bad case, a really bad case. And you were running out of time. The unsubs' latest victim only had about a day left.

But nobody could work if they were falling asleep. Eventually Hotch sighed and told everyone it was time to head to the hotel.

But of course, once there, there were only 4 rooms.

"I'm taking my own room. I'm old." Rossi said and grabbed the key before anyone could argue.

"C'mon pretty boy." Morgan grabbed another key, and walked off with spence.

"I'll go with Jj. Y/l/n, you good with Hotch?" Your face went bright red at Prentiss's words. But you nodded, looking anywhere but at Hotch. You couldn't say no, it would be too obvious.

"Y-yeah, that's fine." You all trudged to the elevator, Emily and Jj said goodnight and walked off once you reached your floor. You and Hotch walked in silence down the hall to the very last room.

He swung the door open, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. There was only one bed.

"I'll uh, I'll take the floor." You scrunched your nose at Hotch's offer and he couldn't deny how adorable you looked.

"Hotch, no. That will kill your back." You shook your head. "We can share. We're both adults, it's fine." You're not sure if you're convincing yourself or him. He just nods and gives a soft okay.

"Do you want the first shower?" He asked. 

"Um, no. I shower in the mornings." He nodded before walking into the bathroom.

Why was this so awkward? You guys were such good friends, this shouldn't be so weird. 

You pushed the thought aside before crawling into the bed and curling up.

Hotch walked out of the bathroom 10 minutes later in nothing but a towel.

Your eyes grew and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He cleared his throat, and you looked up at his eyes.

"Uh sorry, forgot my bag." You nodded, looking away quickly. Too scared to speak. He quickly went back into the bathroom.

"Get a hold of yourself." You whispered to yourself. You weren't going to survive this case if he did that again. He joined you in bed soon after getting dressed.

Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, neither of you breathed. It was completely silent.

After about 20 minutes of silence and trying desperately to fall asleep you spoke up.

"Hotch?" 

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse.

"Um, I can't sleep." You turned towards him and he did the same.

"Neither can I." You sighed.

"How's Jack?" You asked, trying to bring up the mood, or to at least get rid of the awkwardness. It seemed to work because his face lit up at the mention of his son.

"He's good. He actually just asked if you could come over soon. He got an A plus on his spelling test that you helped him study for and he really wants to show you." You smiled as you listened.

"That's great! He was so nervous for that test." 

"Yeah, thank you Y/n for helping him." You grabbed his hand, squeezing gently.

"Of course Hotch. I love Jack." You muttered, and you fell into silence again.

But it was more content, more peaceful. Your hands stayed laced together, and Hotch's mind went blank as you started leaning closer.

Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

He started leaning in, his hand moved from your own to cup your face. But something switched in his mind. What was he doing? This was wrong. He couldn't let this happen. 

Your faces were inches apart when he pulled his hand away and scooted backwards slightly.

Look like the boy too shy

He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Your face fell, and his heart squeezed painfully.

"Um, we should go to bed." You were so confused. You thought that was it. It was perfect. He, he pulled away though. Why had he pulled away?

You could almost physically see his walls being built up.

Walls you had spent so much time breaking down.

"Oh, um. O-okay." You stuttered out, pulling back  quickly.

"Goodnight Y/n." He said softly, but you didn't respond. You were too scared you would cry if you did. 

You fell asleep faster than you anticipated, but maybe you were just that tired. 

He was gone when you woke up.

You thought everything might just go back to the way it was after that night.

But boy were you wrong. Hotch had completely pulled away from you.

No longer did he invite you over, or invite you to do paperwork in his office with him

You didn't watch movies, or go out to eat, or even talk about anything other than work. It was hell.

You tried, you really tried to get him to open up again, but it just didn't work. Nothing did.

It was to the point where he would be almost rude to you. 

The team was beginning to notice. And you couldn't hold back any longer. It was killing you.

You needed to talk to him, past this wall he had put up. You needed to know why he was pushing you away. You walked up to his door, knocking on the door.

"Come in." He said softly. You walked in, and his eyes stayed trained on the paperwork in front of him.

"Hotch?" He still didn't look up.

"How can I help you Agent Y/l/n?" He asked, his voice not wavering from professionalism. You shut the door behind you and walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs.

"We need to talk." He was taken aback slightly by the determination in your voice, but he sighed before setting down his pen.

"What is it?" He sounded almost annoyed, which just made you angrier.

"What the hell is going on?" You didn't mean to be so rude about it, but you needed to know.

"Excuse me?" 

"Seriously Hotch, we went from talking almost every day, to not speaking unless it has something to do with work."

"Y/l/n…" he went to stop you.

"No. Hotch please. I don't know what I did." You begged. "I mean you can't even use my name anymore." You whispered.

"This is very unprofessional." he wasn't breaking.

"Please Aaron. Don't lie to me." You tried his first name, and he had never loved his name being spoken more than when you said it. But he had to stop this.

"Agent Y/l/n. I'm sorry if our friendship was confus-" but you cut him off.

"We weren't just friends. You know that and I know that." He had the audacity to look confused. But he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Don't try to hide it how, You wanna kiss the girl

"Please Aaron, don't pretend, not with me."

"Agent Y/l/n! That's enough!" His voice was rising. 

He didn't understand why you couldn't just let it go.

"No it's not. I love you Aaron, I'm sorry. But I do. And it hurts so much that you are pushing me away!" Your eyes filled with tears and Hotch stood there, awed that you felt this way. But he couldn't let you in. So he took that final heartbreaking step.

"I don't love you." He whispered out. You had been standing and you took a staggering step backwards. 

"What?" Your voice was small.

"I don't love you Y/n." The lie was tearing him apart. Why was he doing this again?

Tears began falling down your face. You were upset and mad and heartbroken. And you were embarrassed that this man had this much of a hold on you.

"Fine." You sniffed. "If that's how you feel Agent Hotchner." He missed the way you said Aaron and flinched at the formal title. But this was what he wanted. "I apologize for the unprofessionalism." You turned to leave, but stopped when he spoke.

"Y/n…" His voice was small, strained. You wiped away your tears. When you looked back, his eyes were glossy.

But he didn't say anything else and you kept walking, slamming the door behind you. The bullpen silenced and everyone stared at you.

It was humiliating, but you walked to Rossi's office, your head held high.

"Rossi?" 

"Y/l/n, what's wrong?" He asked, like he hadn't heard the conversation through his shared wall with Hotch. 

"Can you please tell Hotch that I'm sick and I won't be in for a while?" Your voice wavered slightly, but you ignored it.

"Y/n-" he started, but you didn't feel like talking.

"Please Rossi?" You begged, praying he would just say yes so you could leave.

"Yes, of course." You nodded and thanked him before leaving. You slipped down to your desk and grabbed your bag. 

You didn't see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office, watching you as you left, tears silently slipping down your face.

Your teammates asked what was happening, but you just waved them off and left.

They all turned to Hotch, but he was already back in his office, his door slamming for the second time that day.

You wanna kiss the girl

A week passed, and you hadn't come back to work yet. Hotch wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hated what he did.

The team was confused, Rossi kept sending him angry glances, and your empty desk was haunting him.

And then, Jack asked that question. The question that broke him just a little more.

"Why doesn't Miss Y/n come over anymore daddy?" He had asked one night at dinner.

He didn't know how to answer. "Does she not love us anymore?" His eyes were big and glossy like he was going to cry. He decided not to lie to his son.

"Daddy made a mistake and Miss Y/n is just a little sad right now." Jack didn't understand what was happening, but he wanted to help fix it. His dad had been so sad these past couple of weeks and it made him sad. 

"Daddy, you have to say sorry! And you have to do what the song says!" Hotch looked at his son confused. What song?

"What song buddy?" He asked, pulling his son into his lap.

"You know, you have to kiss the girl!" He giggled like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"The little mermaid song?" He asked, smiling at his son's innocence. 

"Yes, remember, you and Y/n were sitting on the couch before you left for work, and you were going to kiss her!" Hotch looks shocked, Jack was awake for that?

"Um, buddy. Me and Y/n aren't together." He sighed as his son deflated.

"But why? You love her. And she loves you." He spoke, confused as to what was happening.

"Um.." Hotch drew a blank. He couldn't give this little boy an answer. Not when it was his fault. Not when he was the one that had said no. 

It was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have just told you.  Why hadn't he?

He should have kissed you.

The first time, or the second time. He should have told you that he loved you too. Was it too late? 

"Um, buddy, you know what? It's time for bed." Hotch put his son to sleep and called Rossi, asking him to come over.

He prayed he wasn't too late. Rossi showed up at his door 20 minutes later.

"Hotch-" but he knew.

"I know, I'm an idiot. But I have to go tell her I love her too." He was rushing, grabbing his keys.

"Atta boy Aaron." Was all Rossi said as Hotch ran out the door, jumping in his car.

He was sure he was going faster than the speed limit, but he couldn't care less. He needed to see you, and to be with you. To tell you that he loved you.

His car was barely parked when he jumped out and ran up to your door, banging on it.

You heard the noise wondering who would come over so late. You were shocked to find Hotch there as you opened the door.

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

"Y/n." Was all he said. You slammed the door in his face.  He began banging his fist in the door and you threw it open, again.

"Leave Hotch." 

"Please, Y/n, just hear me out." He begged. You hesitated, but moved to the side letting him in. You shut the door softly.

Yes, you want her, Look at her, you know you do

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

"What do you want, Hotch? What more could you possibly want?" He shook his head, holding his tears at bay.

"Aaron." He spoke quietly.

"What?" 

"Please, it's Aaron." 

"Agent Hotchner. You need to leave." But he didn't leave. He stood there and stared at you. 

"I'm so sorry Y/n." 

"Hotch, seriously, I can't do this. I can't." You tried to keep those tears in, you were tired of crying over him, but there was no point. You felt then slip down your face.

Words weren't working, he had already said enough. But he remembered Jacks words. 

The song.

Now's your moment, Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

She don't say a word and she won't say a word, Until you kiss the girl

He stepped forward and brought his hand up to your face. He leaned in slowly, and brought your lips to his. 

Your heart stopped, and you kissed him back desperately. You had wanted this for so long. You had waited for so. Damn. Long.

"Your so stupid." You murmured against his lips. He pulled away gasping for air.

"I know" his voice was beautiful.

You've gotta kiss the girl, Go on and kiss the girl

He leaned in again, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gently ran his thumb across your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward. He broke away a moment later.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was an idiot. I love you." A tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away. "I dont expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you. I was awful, and I never should have lied and said I didn't love you too. I shouldn't have pushed you away."

"Why did you?" He hesitated, he wasn't sure you would understand.

"The last time I let someone in my heart, she left. And then she got hurt because of me. I couldn't risk that happening to you." He shook his head.

"Oh Aaron. I'm not leaving. I don't ever want to leave you. I love you too much to leave." You paused. "And you can't hide and be scared to open your heart. Its okay to let people in." You added softly and he gave you a smile.

You both stood there in blissful peace, your foreheads touching. He chuckled and you looked at him confused.

"What?"

"I kissed the girl." You just grew more confused.

"What are you talking about?" You asked humor in your voice.

"The song. Jack said I had to do what the little mermaid song said." You understood then and began giggling. 

"Maybe, maybe you should do it again." You suggested, a smile on your face.

"Hmm, maybe I should." And he leaned in again for another breathtaking kiss.

.....................

"And that is how me and your dad got together." Your three kids sat in front of you listening in awe. 

"Wow, so Jack is why he finally told you he loved you?" Your middle child, Tommy asked. Jack laughed as he stood up, tapping your shoulder as he towered over you. 

"You could say that." Aaron said from the doorway, you turned, smiling at your husband. 

"Yeah, sure." You giggled and ruffled Jack's hair as you picked up your nine year old daughter, Jenna. Who, in all honesty, was almost too big to be picked up.

"Mommy, can you tell us that story every night?" She asked, and you smiled. 

"Of course I can sweat pea. But now, its bed time." You tucked in your kids, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before joining your husband in your room.

You plopped on the bed and curled up into his side.

"Hi sweetheart." He greeted you with a kiss, and he pulled you into his side. "You know, you didn't need to make me sound so…" he couldn't quite find the word.

"Stupid? Clueless? Dumb?" You asked, giggling as he began digging his fingers into your side, tickling you. 

"St-stop. Aaron!" You shrieked and he let up, but not before plopping on top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face.

"I'm glad you finally told that story. Jenna has been begging for weeks" Your youngest had watched the little mermaid a couple of weeks ago and Jack had made a comment about one of the songs. Jenna had heard one word and was begging for us to tell her our "falling in love story", as she put it. 

You had finally given in and told them, and they had loved every moment of it. Jack of course had already known, having witnessed it. 

But Jenna and Tommy had loved hearing how their parents had fallen in love. 

And a week later when you walked in the living room you were filled with a sense of nostalgia as you saw Jack with Jenna in his lap, as Tommy and Aaron sat on the couch next to them. Watching, of course, the little mermaid. You plopped next to Aaron, smiling. 

As Kiss The Girl started playing.

--------------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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[chericarlisle]

You asked for Carlisle Cullen requests and I am here to deliver❤️ can I ask for a fic where the reader finally confesses to Carlisle they are in love with him? Preferably fluffy with some kisses 😌, I would also prefer the reader not be a doctor or nurse if possible! Thank you so much!

𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐜.𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlisle cullen x human reader

(𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: i hope you enjoy this! i tried to think of a way to get the two to meet, but have it still correlate! so the reader will be Alice’s friend :) thank you for requesting <3 please know that the reader is NOT a minor!!!

For the years that you had attended Forks High, you had grown close to a certain Cullen daughter, Alice. Her personality was that of a pink rose and its symbolism. She was more than one could want in a best friend, and between her amazing advice or sense of fashion, there was never a dull moment. 

Unlike a majority of the students, Alice was genuine and welcoming, causing the two of you to grow close as friends. It made you feel like high school wasn’t so bad after all.

As you talked more and more with Alice, you often wondered why the rest of her family was so reserved. They rarely interacted with any one else who didn’t share the last name ‘Cullen’. Alice, though, was the exception, having branched out to you.

 It seemed that being friends with Alice was something that was a package deal because on occasion, she’d bring along her boyfriend Jasper. You didn’t question their family dynamic as Alice had already explained in simplest terms who they were. It was a much better definition than what Jessica had told you and the rest at that table on the first day. Looking back, it was more petty gossip than it was useful information.

For the first summer, you didn’t see much of Alice and rather texted her much more. You’d invite her over, but it appeared that they were on a long family vacation that summer. It was then that you truly realized that you knew nothing about Alice, let alone the Cullens, aside from what you had been told at school. 

There was something that constantly affected Alice’s decision making, along with her siblings, but you didn’t yet know that factor, and you wouldn’t for a while. Instead, you let your mind consume the harsh option that Alice wasn’t exactly the person you thought she was. Maybe she really was just like the rest of the Forks High students. 

Fortunately, your fears were consoled that next school year.

After much consideration, Alice eventually invited you over to her house where you officially met the rest of the Cullens. Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper acted so much differently than they did at school in the way that they even acted at all. Normally, they would just go through the school day rarely interacting with any one or anything else but themselves. It made you curious as to why they weren’t like this at school. They seemed to be such lovely people so why would they be so monotonous for eight grueling hours of the day. 

You were able to see where they got those characterful values from. Well, more so who.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen, their adoptive father who looked too young to be a father at all and was so perfect that he must’ve been a hallucination. 

Since that moment three years ago, you’d gone over almost every other weekend to do whatever extravagant thing Alice had planned for you. She hadn’t had a real friend in so long that she wanted to make up for all the missed time. 

Over the course of time, the man, who you knew only as Dr. Cullen, had caught your eye. His compassionate mannerism and old fashioned style was something that just seemed to make you fall head over heels. At the mere sight of Dr. Cullen, the heat of your cheeks would make itself known and you wanted nothing more than to slap some sense into yourself. Whenever he spoke, you shamefully latched onto every word, his voice ever so comforting. The small smile resting on his lips whenever he spoke to you added even more charm and there was no hope left for you. This man made you swoon and you were so embarrassed over the fact that he was the adoptive father of your best friend. 

High school graduation arrived in no time and along with it a huge family secret. A family secret that wasn’t yours, but once again, relating to the Cullens. 

The family revealed it at a dinner, which was a rare occasion, considering that you hadn’t ever really seen them eat. You came over to their house like any other visit, except this time, the inviting smell of a freshly cooked dinner greeted you at the door. 

The lovely dinner and charming smiles were all just the calm before the storm. Playful conversation ceased and suddenly Carlisle was speaking on behalf of everyone at the table. In a matter of seconds, it went from ‘casual family dinner' to ‘game show questionnaire' that was borderline an interrogation with the lack of feedback you were receiving. None of the Cullens, not even Alice, would confirm or deny any inquiries that left your mouth, leaving you to your own judgment. It was almost like your speculation was crucial to ending the slew of questions. 

Eventually, you drew up the conclusion that they were vampires. You said this with such lighthearted intent that you were waiting for the big joke until you scanned the tables and saw their emotionless expressions.

All that you could really remember was falling from your dinner chair with Carlisle, who was sitting right beside you, catching your fall before you became close friends with the hardwood floor. 

Needless to say, it took a moment to process this information, but you still continued on with Alice and her family. They were still the same Cullens you had known since the beginning and a small sliver of their real life wasn’t going to change who they were to you.

A couple of months later, you were spending the night with Alice for the weekend. She wanted to go visit Seattle for the day and do some holiday shopping. You readily agreed, remembering that you had to get some gifts for your own family. Shopping with Alice was always an experience, but an entertaining time nonetheless.

You had gotten there Friday night as both you and Alice planned to leave the next morning. There was no point in leaving now as the stores had been closed for at least a couple of hours. 

Walking in the living room, you saw Emmett and Rosalie thoroughly invested in a comedy on tv. You had invited Rosalie to go shopping, but long hours with Alice in a store was not an activity for the less patient and she knew this. Edward was apparently missing from the scene, but Jasper, who was standing afar, greeted you and said that he was out with Bella. Jasper had finally loosened up around you, and after the family’s confession, you understood why he looked so uncomfortable all the time. The willpower these people had astonished you. 

Alice had disappeared after letting you in and it wasn’t until she returned with Dr. Cullen in tow, that you truly noticed she was gone. You bashfully greeted the doctor to which he returned with his signature smile that could make you melt. 

“I know this is bad timing, (y/n),” Alice walked to stand beside you, “But I have to go hunt, as do my siblings. You’ll stay here with Carlisle. He doesn’t need to go with us right now and we can't leave you alone.” By the end, the petite vampire was smirking and you jokingly scowled at her little plan. She knew of your silly crush on Carlisle and would relentlessly tease you about it, as a best friend would. 

Before you could even answer, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice were out of the room without so much as a peep. You shook your head at Alice’s sneakiness, forgetting for a second that a certain someone was left with you.

“How about I make you some dinner, (y/n)?” 

The way he said your name was something you could never handle. It just rolled off his tongue like any other word would, but with the hint of his accent, it sounded so lovely.

“I don’t mean to be a nuisance. Dr. Cullen.” 

Already flustered with the whole situation, the last thing you wanted was to bother Dr. Cullen any more than you thought you’d already done. 

As if he could read minds, the blonde stopped in his tracks to face you. “Please, call me Carlisle and you are never an inconvenience, (y/n). Besides, I’ve already hunted so I’m more than happy to be here with you.” 

Carlisle, being kind as usual, shouldn’t have said such words because your brain was currently going into a frenzy as his thoughtfulness. If it was possible, your heart must’ve been beating faster than what would be considered healthy for someone actively working out. 

You weren’t able to find the words, but instead able to offer what you hoped was an endearing grin.

In the kitchen, Carlisle searched the desolate fridge in hopes of finding some food. The kitchen and its appliances were more of decor than they ever were useful. 

After a minute or two, Carlisle closed the freezer door of the fridge, a pack of steak in his hand. 

“It seems steak will have to do tonight.” 

You shot him a pleased look. “You can’t go wrong with steak.” Famous last words.

While you insisted on cooking your own food, Carlisle returned the same persistence and eventually you gave in. 

The two of you carried on a conversation while he cooked. Talking with him seemed so natural that for a moment, you weren’t nervous about talking to this man.

Carlisle plated the steak and brought it before you, an excited look painted on your face. He sat down beside you and eagerly waited to see how the steak turned out. At first, you felt a bit bad that he wasn’t going to eat anything, especially after all the trouble he had gone through.

“Carlisle, are you sure you’re fine? It just feels so wrong eating in front of you like this!” 

He chuckled, quickly placing his hand on your own to reassure you. “I’m fine, truly. I just hope it’s edible.” 

You grabbed the steak knife, jokingly rolling your eyes at his statement. Upon cutting into the steak, an unpleasant rush of cow blood came out revealing that the steak was far from even being rare. 

Immediately your plate was being scooped up and brought to the kitchen counter where you joined Carlisle. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s been some time since I’ve cooked anything and it seems that I haven’t caught up with modern cooking principles.” Carlisle looked a bit sheepish at the moment and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips. You weren't sure if it was the unintentional term of endearment or his adorable attempt at cooking. Either way, Carlisle was relieved to see that you weren’t upset, but rather enjoying this moment. 

You stepped up beside Carlisle at the stovetop, shoulders touching as you reached across for the seasonings. “Here, we should probably season the steak a bit and clean off the pan.” 

As you continued to do your own thing and guide Carlisle in cooking, he carefully took each word of your advice.

“See, you did everything right, Carlisle. It was just the heat and time that threw off the doneness of the steak, a bit.” Your words ended with a small twinkle as you turned to face the man who’d been so intently watching. He seemed to be so entranced at the moment… and by you. 

It was like time was frozen and everything moved in slow motion, something you’d only see in a cheesy movie scene, except you were living it. Suddenly, life sped up and Carlisle’s cold hand was cupping your face and bringing you in for a kiss. You were happy that this was how you’d “confess” your love to Carlisle because words weren’t exactly your strong spot given the circumstances.

You two stayed lip locked for the longest moment in time, just pure bliss. It seemed like the kiss would never end until the smell of burnt oil hit your nose. Carlisle could feel you smiling against his lips and you began to peep out a small laugh. 

“I think we overcooked this one a little too much.”

a/n: i’m sorry if this is cringe-worthy, i wrote this at 12:30 am. i swear it will get better lol i just need to stop writing at ungodly hours of the night--