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inseobts · 2 days ago

Text

(Accidental) PDA

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace, kid

words count: around 300-500 each

masterlist

Roronoa Zoro:

The crew is gathered at a lively tavern, drinks flowing, laughter echoing off the wooden walls. You’re seated next to Zoro, who, as usual, seems more focused on his drink than the conversation. His arm is draped casually along the back of the bench, and at some point, probably without realizing it, his fingers start lightly tracing circles on your shoulder.

It’s absentminded, subconscious, but you notice.

And so does everyone else.

You don’t say anything at first, just letting yourself enjoy the rare show of affection. Zoro isn’t exactly the touchy type, so the feeling of his rough, calloused fingers against your skin is something to savor. You lean into him just a little, and his grip unconsciously tightens.

Then, Sanji snickers “Didn’t take you for the clingy type, Marimo.”

Zoro’s fingers stops instantly.

You can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he replays the last few minutes, piecing together what just happened. His arm stiffens, and when you glance up, you find his face frozen in mild horror, like his own body has just betrayed him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice comes out a little too sharp, too defensive, which only makes Sanji smirk wider.

“Oh, nothing” The cook takes a drag of his cigarette “It’s just cute, that's all. Didn’t think you’d be the type to get all touchy in public.”

Zoro yanks his arm back so fast you almost fall sideways “I wasn’t!” He groans, rubbing his face like he can physically scrub the moment from existence “It wasn’t on purpose.”

You stifle a laugh, reaching up to pat his arm “Relax, Zoro. It’s fine.”

He glares at you, but there’s a bit of redness creeping up his neck “I don’t do that stuff in public.”

Sanji hums, clearly enjoying this way too much “Mhm. Sure. Just keep telling yourself that.”

Zoro grumbles something under his breath, clearly ready to die on this hill. But even as he crosses his arms and scowls at his drink, his knee remains pressed against yours under the table.

Accidental or not, you’ll take what you can get.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

The sun is setting over the Sunny, casting golden hues across the deck. Dinner is long over, but most of the crew lingers, full and satisfied. You sit beside Sanji near the railing, listening to the breeze and the distant laughter of the others. He’s in a good mood, smiling as he talks to you about a new dessert he’s planning, something with caramel and sea salt, he says, because “a contrast of flavors makes things more exciting, mon amour.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname but don’t bother fighting it. Sanji flirts like he breathes, and by now, you’ve just learned to go along with it.

Then, it happens.

You’re mid-sip of your drink when Sanji, without thinking, reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s so natural, so smooth, that it takes you a second to process what just happened. The conversation around you continues, but you feel frozen, heat creeping up your neck.

Sanji, of course, remains utterly unaware. He keeps talking like nothing’s happened, his fingers lingering near your ear for just a moment before pulling away. It wasn’t even a grand gesture, just an absentminded, casual thing. But the way it makes your heart stutter? Absolutely unfair.

Unfortunately, someone does notice.

“Oi, Sanji,” Usopp teases, leaning over the table with a shit-eating grin “Didn’t know you were already at the ‘tucking their hair back like a romance novel protagonist’ stage.”

Sanji blinks “Hah?”

Nami chuckles “That was smooth, even for you.”

Sanji frowns, clearly replaying the last few seconds in his head. His hand twitches, as if only now realizing what it just did. He looks at you, at your slightly wide eyes, at the way you’re still holding your drink midair like an idiot, and then… it hits him.

“Oh—!” His face erupts into red “I—I wasn’t—! That was—!”

He immediately buries his face in his hands, groaning “Shit… I didn’t even notice I—!”

“You touched their hair, Sanji,” Usopp deadpans, grinning. “That’s practically a confession.”

Sanji sputters, waving his arms dramatically “It’s not like that! I— I just—” He stops, then sighs, rubbing his temples. “Mon dieu…”

You watch him, amused. The smooth-talking, ever-flirty Sanji, reduced to a blushing mess over one small gesture.

You smile. Maybe you didn’t mind it so much after all.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

Trafalgar Law doesn't do public displays of affection. The man acts like love is a classified disease, and he’s the only doctor qualified to handle it.

Which is why the Heart Pirates are absolutely living for this moment.

It starts small, Bepo makes an offhand comment about how you and Law seem weirdly close today. And by that, he means Law has casually draped an arm around your waist while reading his book.

Then it escalates.

Law, your usually grumpy, no-nonsense captain, absentmindedly feeds you a bite of his food at dinner. Like it’s nothing. Like this is normal.

The crew goes silent.

Then whispers.

Then snickering.

Shachi elbows Penguin “Did you see that?”

“I felt that” Penguin whispers back, eyes wide.

“Are we being punked?” Ikkaku mutters “Is this a medical experiment or what?”

Meanwhile, Law, completely oblivious, keeps eating... until he notices just how unnaturally quiet everyone has gotten. He glances up, fork mid-air, only to be met with a table full of smug grins and barely contained laughter.

“…What?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Bepo smiles innocently “Nothing, Captain. Please, continue being adorable.”

Law blinks. Then slowly turns to you, as if just now realizing what he’s done.

You, being the absolute menace that you are, grin and open your mouth again, waiting for another bite.

A muscle in his jaw twitches.

“You’re enjoying this” he mutters.

“Oh, immensely.”

Law exhales through his nose, looking between the crew and you. For a second, it seems like he’ll retreat, go full grumpy captain mode,

but instead, he smirks, leans in, and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

The chaos that erupts is instant.

Shachi falls out of his chair. Penguin screams. Bepo claps. Ikkaku nearly chokes on her drink.

Law, of course, acts like nothing happened and goes right back to eating.

But the red tips of his ears? Oh yeah. That’s a win.

Portgas D. Ace:

The bonfire crackles, casting a golden glow over the Whitebeard Pirates as laughter and conversation fill the night air. You’re sitting next to Ace, comfortably close, the warmth of the fire mingling with the heat radiating off his skin.

He’s relaxed, grinning as he chats with Marco, one arm casually slung over the back of the log where you're sitting. It's nothing unusual... Ace has always been a little touchy without thinking much of it. But at some point, his fingers start absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair, twirling and tugging in slow, lazy motions.

You blink.

The conversation continues like nothing’s happening, and Ace doesn’t seem to notice what he’s doing. It’s almost endearing, the way he’s so comfortable, so unaware, until Thatch smirks over his tankard and loudly clears his throat.

“Well, well” Thatch drawls, tapping his mug against Marco’s “Didn’t realize we were in the middle of a romantic drama. Should we leave you two alone?”

Ace freezes mid-twist of your hair.

His fingers tighten ever so slightly before he slowly lets the strand slip from his grip. The realization crashes down on him in real-time, his freckles disappearing under the deepening red of his face.

“Huh?” His voice cracks slightly “I...That’s not...”

Marco chuckles, sipping his drink “You’re adorable when you’re oblivious, yoi.”

Ace immediately throws a handful of sand in his direction, scowling. “Shut up!” His voice is a little too high-pitched to be threatening “I wasn’t—! It wasn’t on purpose!”

“Sure” Thatch grins, wiggling his eyebrows “Accidental flirting. A classic.”

Ace groans into his hands, looking very much like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. You, on the other hand, are biting back a laugh as you lean in slightly.

“Didn’t know you liked playing with my hair” you tease, just loud enough for him to hear.

His head snaps to you, wide-eyed, before he grumbles something incoherent under his breath. You’re pretty sure you catch the words never living this down.

Still, despite his embarrassment, he doesn’t move away, his warmth lingers beside you, a silent contradiction to his flustered protests.

Eustass Kid:

The atmosphere in the tavern is loud and chaotic, just the way the Kid Pirates like it. The crew is drinking, shouting, and causing their usual brand of mayhem while you sit beside Kid, with your drink. He’s in a rare good mood tonight, smirking as he argues with Killer over some pointless bet.

You��re just relaxing, letting the warmth of the room settle into your bones, when you feel it... Kid’s hand resting on your thigh.

Not just resting. His fingers drum absently against your skin, his grip solid, like it belongs there.

Your brain short-circuits for a second. He’s not the type for public affection. Hell, he barely acknowledges feelings exist, so the fact that he’s touching you like this, so casually, is… unexpected.

And the worst part? He doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it.

You glance down, then back up at him. He’s still engaged in his conversation with Killer, completely unaware of the way his thumb is now slowly tracing circles against your leg.

It’s fine. It’s totally fine. You can just pretend like this isn’t affecting you...

"Oi, Kid" Heat suddenly snickers from across the table, eyes gleaming with mischief "y/n is so red that it like they're about to explode. Didn’t know you were the handsy type."

Kid pauses mid-sentence "Huh?"

He follows Heat’s gaze, straight to where his hand is resting on you. His fingers twitch. You feel the exact moment his brain catches up with his body, the slow realization creeping onto his face.

The entire table is watching now, grinning like they’ve just witnessed something hilarious.

"Shit," Kid mutters, yanking his hand away like he’s been burned. His face twists into a scowl, and his cheeks—just barely—tinge red "I wasn’t—!" His voice raises, defensive. "It was just—!"

Killer snorts "Yeah, sure. Just absentmindedly groping them in the middle of a crowded tavern. Totally normal."

The crew erupts into laughter. Kid growls, kicking Heat’s chair out from under him, sending the man crashing to the floor "Shut the hell up!"

You bite your lip, fighting back a grin.

Even as he huffs and glares at his drink, grumbling about stupid bastards and their stupid comments, his knee remains firmly pressed against yours under the table.

Accidental or not, he’s not moving away.

And neither are you.

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random2908 · 2 days ago

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Ok, I have a lot to say about scientific glassblowers.

First, luckily, there are a lot of them in China who are very good. If, like me, you work in private industry, the government has rules against buying Chinese components. But there's at least one American company (FireflySci) that launders Chinese custom scientific glass components, so you can still get them. If you're in academia you can buy direct from China and save a ton of money, if you or a colleague knows enough Chinese to be able to find these glassblowers on your own.

Within America, you have to know, the quality varies immensely. Scientific glassblowing is one of those trades that takes like 20 years to master. So there is a huge tension between the old masters who are really really good but have significant limitations in their capabilities because they're using old techniques; and the younger glassblowers who are learning or inventing new techniques but don't have the hand-skills to pull them off successfully. In larger shops, you can have a mix of ages, and so get around this a bit--but larger shops mostly don't do (serious) custom work. And often these larger shops are an in-house shop within an even bigger company.

For a lot of things, though, any scientific glassblower will do. In which case, you can still find them scattered all over the country. When I was dealing in glass a lot at a previous job, we had a long-standing contract with a glassblower about two hours away, who did all of our simpler stuff. There was a closer one, too, 20 minutes away, I'm not sure why we didn't go with them, I think because they had too much work already to take a long-term contract with us. So, yes, you can still find glassblowers, although not in large quantities.

But sometimes you need something really precise. This is science, after all. And your local glass shop just can't do it.

So then you have to find an old master using newer techniques. (I recommend Mike at Spectrocell in Pennsylvania, careful of the spelling--there are many similarly named companies--but he sounds very old over the phone.) (I know a lot of scientists will say Jay at Precision Glass Blowing in Colorado is the only guy they will go to for serious work, and I have some rude things to say to such scientists; not that Precision Glass Blowing does a bad job (...at the glassblowing part, that is--buyer beware if you ask for extras from them, but their willingness to offer extra services, such as chemical handling, is why everyone uses them in the first place), but they're not the only, or best, option out there.)

Get talking with an old master, and they'll constantly complain about how they've run out of apprentices. It is a real problem. It is a dying art, within the United States. (And, despite "scientific" in the name, it is very much an art; "scientific" refers to the customer base.) When I was collaborating with the University of Michigan at a previous job, the Chemistry Department's glassblower, Roy, was complaining that he was in his 70s and it had been several decades since he last had an apprentice, and he was going to retire any day now and the university would have no one to replace him with. (It wouldn't at all surprise me if he's retire by now, and if you could no longer get custom glass in-house at the University of Michigan.)

The irony is that there's still significant demand! Not as much as there once was, because you can buy mass-produced beakers now, you don't have to go to your local scientific glassblower for some of the simpler components. But for anything at all custom? For anything at all delicate? That's still done by hand. There's still a glassblower, somewhere, probably in China, whose handicraft that is. But like all trades, scientific glassblowing in the US has been almost entirely undercut by the availability of cheap labor (even cheap skilled labor, even cheap mastery) in other countries.

the world is running out of glassblowers and yet you want to become a fucking doctor

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hrrtshape · 3 days ago

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i am 34 years old (psychologically) and that is so chill of me.

seventeen years here, where the air smells like burnt espresso and a corporate merger. where the sun rises over a skyline of scaffolding and overpriced pilates classes. where my childhood is a stack of polaroids somewhere in my drawer, and my adolescence is something i’m allegedly still in.

seventeen years there, in my dr, where i was richer, sharper, better dressed, and seventeen. where the air smelled like old money and private school perfume, where my life moved in a different language, a different rhythm. a world where my name meant something.

seventeen plus seventeen is thirty-four. thirty-four years of memory. a number that doesn’t make sense because i am not thirty-four, and yet, i am. i have been alive for seventeen years, but my mind? my mind is double that, stretched across realities like a film reel with too many frames.

i was only there for fifteen days. but the brain is not a calendar. the brain is a hard drive, and when i shifted, it downloaded everything. seventeen years of memories compressed into two weeks. entire lifetimes absorbed like water into a sponge. when i woke up here, i didn’t just remember it. i had lived it.

i remember two lives with the same clarity, the same weight. i have twice the memories, twice the heartbreaks, twice the love stories, twice the moments of standing in a bathroom at a party, gripping the sink, thinking, this is it, this is the moment i will remember forever. i have lost twice as much, gained twice as much, made twice as many mistakes, laughed at twice as many jokes that weren’t even funny.

but it’s not just about the numbers. it’s about the feeling. it’s about living with a brain that is both young and ancient (sorry, old people). it’s knowing things i shouldn’t know, not in an oracle kind of way, but in a girl who has seen too much kind of way. it’s walking down the street and feeling like a ghost in my own life, because part of me still expects to turn a corner and see the other world waiting for me. it’s remembering places that no longer exist, inside jokes no one here would understand. it’s muscle memory trying to open doors that aren’t there.

and yet, i am still here. standing in this reality, holding a coffee, texting the same people, making the same plans, laughing at the same tweets. to anyone else, i am just a girl. but i am a girl with 34 years of lived experience. a girl who has already been seventeen, who has already been sixteen, fifteen, seventeen again. a girl who has been given time, taken time, stolen time, and still somehow has no idea what to do with it.

is this what shifting does? does everyone who shifts wake up feeling like they’ve lived twice? like they are something between a time traveler and an unreliable narrator? like they are a person split at the seams, two versions of themselves constantly overlapping? because i think that’s the part no one talks about. the part where you return and you are both more and less than before. you are wiser but more confused, fulfilled but aching, young but so old.

thirty-four years of memory should make me twice as wise, twice as tragic, twice as fabulous. instead, i’m just sitting here, waiting for my mom to get me a quiche.

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checkeredflagggs · 15 hours ago

Text

Footnote of a Story

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: Logan and his girlfriend have been together for over 10 years — people have posted about it 8 times

a/n: this is canon to the story of us story, just some backstory that probably won’t be talked about in the main story at all

a/n2: I fiddled about with the timeline of the Covid quarantine — namely that it was already happening by Valentine’s Day

a/n3: I also don’t know when Oscar and Lily started dating so here it’s when they’re 16

Masterlist | Taglist

10 Years Old

y/ns_mother

liked by sargeant1, l/n1, sargeant2, and 183 others

y/ns_mother: well it looks like y/n has a crush…she was very determined to make “the bestest card ever and make sure it’s the good candy mom!”

view all comments

sargeant1: logan was the same way…he nearly talked me into buying a bouquet bigger then is he for her

↳y/ns_mother: they’re so adorable

↳sargeant1: they really are

sargeant2: oh young love…

↳l/n1: i guess when you know you know…doesn’t matter the age…i guess

↳sargeant2: they are very cute together

randocousin: giving us all old timers a bad name 😹

↳drunkaunt: bah they won’t last…once they get to the real world…nothing ever lasts…

↳rudecousin: just cause your marriage failed doesn’t mean theirs will. You’re just a mean old drunk

↳randocousin: not this shit again…

not_y/n: not_logan I told you — I knew very young that you were the one for me

↳not_logan: I won’t doubt you again babe

↳not_y/n: I don’t know why you doubted me in the first place ngl liked by not_logan

not_oscar: oh so you guys have always been this grossly in love

↳not_y/n: booo you grinch liked by not_logan, not_lilyz

12 Years Old

y/n_mother

liked by l/n1, drunkaunt, weirduncle, sargeant3, 212 others

y/ns_mother: we might have a little baker on our hands…y/n was adamant that she had to cook these cookies all by herself

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l/n1: she didn’t even let me have one…

sargeant3: logan was beaming when he came home with these…

↳y/ns_mother: I’m not going to tell them of course��but we’ve started a little wedding fund for them

↳sargeant3: so have we. It’s very obvious where this is going to go

↳y/ns_mother: oh I can’t wait…

drunkaunt: their still together??

↳rudecousin: they’re*

↳rudecousin: and they are! Shockingly relationships can last longer then the hangover the next day

↳drunkaunt: do not start something with me…you weren’t they’re for it

↳rudecousin: there*

↳randocousin: must you rudecousin?

↳rudecousin: she makes it so easy!

↳drunkaunt: your a mean little man

↳randocousin: don’t

↳rudecousin: …you’re drunkaunt

not_logan: I didn’t know you baked those!

↳not_y/n: yeah that was the last time I attempted that

↳not_y/n: not pictured was my mom’s destroyed kitchen…liked by not_logan

14 Years Old

y/n privated a post

liked by y/ns_mother, sister, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 469 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: 💜💜 he got me a card!

view all comments

logansargeant: I always get you a card!

↳y/n: I know but now I can post it for everyone to see!

y/ns_mother: oh to see you guys now…4 years strong

↳y/n: moooooommm go be embarrassing on your own post

oscarpiastri: so you’re the reason he couldn’t stop looking at his phone?

↳y/n: I am! And you are?

↳logansargeant: y/n this is one of my friends from karting! Meet Oscar — he’s the Australian

↳y/n: hi Australian Oscar!

↳oscarpiastri: don’t you mean best friend logansargeant?

↳y/n: HE DOES NOT CAUSE THATS ME!!

↳logansargeant: my best karting friend but the best friend spot has always been hers liked by y/n

16 Years Old

not_logan

liked by not_y/n, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 392 others

tagged: not_y/n

not_logan: a small day spent together before someone goes off on a national tour!

Congrats baby — I’m so fucking proud of you 🩵🩵

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not_y/n: thank you babe! For both the day and for the constant support you’ve given me over the years

↳not_logan: always!

not_oscar: congrats again on the tour y/n!

↳not_y/n: thanks osc! And lmk if you can make any of the dates — I’ll get you tickets

↳not_oscar: oh Logan already has it all planned out

↳not_y/n: awwww

y/ns_mother: oh I’m so proud of you two

↳not_y/n: mom please…

↳not_logan: thanks mum l/n!

↳not_y/n: don’t encourage her!

not_lilyz: oh you guys are so cute!

↳not_y/n: thanks Lily!

↳not_y/n: and thanks again for making a private account

↳not_lilyz: oh that’s not a problem — and is probably good planning for the future

↳not_oscar:😳😳

yoursister: haven’t heard from drunkaunt in a while…she ok?

↳rudecousin: still drunk and mean

↳not_y/n: it’s just neither Logan or I friended her — in fact I blocked her on this account 😂

↳yoursister: good call

18 Years Old

not_y/n

liked by not_logan, y/ns_mother, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 273 others

tagged: not_logan

not_y/n: awwwweee… my baby surprised me back in Florida. Thank you for coming home to me for Valentine’s Day

view all comments

not_logan: glad I managed to catch you before you leave me again 😔

↳not_y/n: nooooo I’m so sorry baby

↳not_y/n: you say the word and I’ll pack you up in my suitcase and take you everywhere with me

↳not_logan: …I’m not there yet but I’ll let you know

y/ns_mother: oh I’m so glad you managed to catch her…with my handwriting I wasn’t sure if she left the 13th or the 18th…

↳not_logan: thanks for all your help mum l/n!

↳not_y/n: thanks for helping him surprise me mama

↳y/ns_mother: of course baby

not_oscar: I don’t think that’s part of your diet Logan…

↳not_lilyz: like you haven’t cheated on yours a hundred times in the last month…

↳not_oscar: 😑😑

↳not_y/n: have I mentioned I love you recently lily?? liked by not_lilyz

rudecousin: heads up — drunkaunt spotted this over my shoulder and started a rant while going for her keys

↳not_y/n: …I’m gonna go start my tour early…

↳not_logan: I’m gonna head back to England real fast

↳yoursister: cowards

↳not_y/n: yup

↳not_logan: absolutely

20 Years Old

not_logan

liked by not_y/n, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 231 others

tagged: not_y/n

not_logan: fun activities to do while locked up during Valentine’s Day…

view all comments

not_y/n: we’re gonna be cooking champs by the time this ends 💪🏻

↳not_logan: I love you so much but I really hope we’re not locked up that long…

↳not_y/n: 🥺🥺🥺

↳not_logan: again I love you so much but we burned water yesterday…

↳not_y/n: ok that’s fair

↳not_oscar: how???

↳not_y/n: we’re simply that talented

↳not_logan: we got distracted 😉😉

↳not_oscar: ewww I don’t need to know that liked by not_y/n, not_logan

y/ns_mother: oh I hope you guys are doing ok…I’d be there for you if I could…love you guys…

↳not_y/n: we’re doing ok mama!!

↳not_logan: …we’re not dead yet but our lack of kitchen skills are becoming more evident…

↳y/ns_mother: oh no…don’t worry baby…I’ll get yoursister to help me video you…I’ll teach you to cook…

↳not_y/n: thank you mama 🙏🙏

not_lilyz: ok so I’m a little jealous…

↳not_y/n: awwww lily we miss you!

↳not_lilyz: miss you guys too

↳not_oscar: 🤨

↳not_lilyz: …their food looks so much better than yours

↳not_y/n: at least you guys can cook something — ours is just anything we could cut into a heart shape… liked by not_lilyz, not_oscar

bandmember: you guys are so cute…

↳not_y/n: thank you 😊

↳not_y/n: also check your mail…there might be something for you…😈😈😈

↳bandmember2: oh???????

sargeant4: how’s the weather over there?

↳not_logan: 😑🙄 cold and snowy

↳not_logan: not that we can see any of it…

↳not_y/n: it could be worse!

↳not_logan: how?

↳not_y/n: we could be stuck in your apartment and not my house

↳not_logan: …that’s true I guess

22 Years Old

logansargeant posted a story, not_y/n posted a story

[thank you to my girl! 🩵🩵🩵][oh Logan my love…an ocean apart and yet you spoil me so…]

user1 replied A GIRL?!? Logan Sargeant do you have a girlfriend!

user2 replied GIRLFRIEND???

georgerussell63 replied oh that’s cute!

oscarpiastri replied maybe I need to tag Lily in this…

↳logansargeant oh she’s already seen it

↳oscarpiastri 🫣��

↳logansargeant didn’t know you wanted flowers and presents though…

↳oscarpiastri who doesn’t…

oscarpiastri replied you guys keep setting the bar high

↳not_y/n gotta get on my level osc

↳oscarpiastri 🙄

lilyzneimer replied brb going to make Oscar take notes…

↳not_y/n he said pretty much the same thing…

↳lilyzneimer 🤣🤣

yoursister replied you guys are literally the only reason I believe in love still

↳not_y/n awww babes it’ll happen for you soon

↳yoursister maybe sooner than you think…

↳not_y/n oh???

y/ns_mother replied oh your young love…

↳not_y/n he’s the one mama

↳y/ns_mother oh baby I know…I’ve known for over a decade now…

↳not_y/n 🥰🥰🥰

25 Years Old (after the Story of Us)

y/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and 12,697,283 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: You can hear it in the silence, You can feel it on the way home, You are in love, true love

view all comments

user3: oh my god so lovely!

user4: Logan Sargeant I wasn’t familiar with your game…

lilymhe: oh my god did Logan get you all that?

↳y/n: he did! He’s a real romantic

↳lilymhe: awww 🥺

↳lilymhe: alex_albon take notes please

↳alex_albon: oh no

↳oscarpiastri: oh this is very common

↳oscarpiastri: get used to it. They’ve been like this since they were 10

↳user5: shut up that’s so cute

oscarpiastri: please stop

↳logansargeant: I will not.

↳y/n: you just gotta do better

↳oscarpiastri: I try but you guys keep raising the bar

↳y/n: skill issue

↳user6: you can tell you guys have been friends for a while…

↳y/n: about 10 years now!

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traveler-at-heart · 15 hours ago

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Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her. “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?” she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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wqnwoos · 21 hours ago

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⇢ pairing. kim mingyu x reader ⇢ summary. snapshots from your kitchen over the years -- with mingyu. ⇢ genre. fluff, strangers2friends2lovers ⇢ warnings. wc is approx. 1.6k; alcohol consumption; each section is set one year after the previous; gn!reader.

march 8th, 2021

“There you are! Hi!” You call out as you sail past the tall figure standing in your kitchen. You move quickly between the oven, the fridge, the microwave, the work surface, your eyes flitting back to him as you talk. “Mingyu, right? I’m sorry, I know this is our first time meeting but everything’s — ”

“A mess,” Seungkwan offers helpfully from behind Mingyu. Which reminds him that the world keeps spinning, even if he does fall in love the very first time he meets his friends’ friend. Everyone talked about you, but yo'd never crossed paths with him — until now. In the middle of your kitchen, with butterflies swarming his stomach.

You click your tongue and point at Seungkwan with one hand, balancing a bowl of salad with the other. “Exactly. Put this on the table, Kwan.”

As Seungkwan takes it from you, Mingyu stands awkwardly by the door, following your movements with his eyes, until you suddenly halt in the middle of the kitchen, throwing your hands up. “Okay. Done.” You meet his eyes with a breathless smile, and suddenly he’s breathless too, without even moving an inch. “Sorry,” you say unrepentantly. “I’m ___. But hopefully you know that already, and you didn’t just agree to come to a stranger’s house.”

Mingyu’s too dumbfounded to reply quickly, completely and utterly taken in. Bewitched, almost, staring at your open, cheerful face. “Hi,” he manages at last, and then rubs his nose awkwardly. “You have a little…”

Unfazed, you rub at your nose and examine your fingers. “Flour,” you nod, “from the — fuck, from the cookies!”

You whip round to the oven; simultaneously, the doorbell rings, and you cast an apologetic look over your shoulder, nodding to the front door. “I’m so sorry, do you mind?”

Not at all, Mingyu’s mind supplies. He’s pretty sure he’d run seven miles without stopping if you asked him to right now, but that’s neither here nor there. When he opens the door, it’s Jeonghan and Seungcheol, who both take one look at his dazed self — Seungcheol sighs, and Jeonghan laughs.

“You owe me a twenty,” Jeonghan says to Seungcheol, and lets himself in, calling out to you in the kitchen.

Seungcheol claps a still-stupefied Mingyu on the back with a sympathetic grimace. “We all saw it coming.”

august 4th, 2022

“There you are!” you call, as Mingyu returns from the bathroom. “I’ve been thinking. You know what I’ve been thinking?” You’re veering out of tipsy territory, heading straight for drunk — Mingyu knows because you’re starting to slur your words, tilting one into the next as you slap your palm emphatically from where you’re sitting, cross-legged on the work surface of your kitchen.

He, on the other hand, is barely even buzzed. Slightly amused, very much fond, he leans against the counter opposite you and sips his drink. “Enlighten me, wise one.”

You stick a profound finger into the air, and with an air of sagacious intelligence — “Men aren’t shit.”

Mingyu almost snorts into his drink, but manages to catch himself at the last minute. After all, he already knew why he was here; you were mourning your dating life after dumping your recent match on whichever dating app; it wasn’t anything too serious, but as your friend — maybe even best friend — he knew you’d been hopeful. And so you’d called him up to, quote unquote, drink away your sorrows.

He’d come, of course. Mingyu always came when you called.

“Men aren’t shit,” he repeats now, with an obedient nod, and raises his glass.

Your head tilts to the side and you bestow a wide smile on him; he mirrors it automatically, even if he doesn’t know what it’s for.

“Not you, though,” you say, without your previous bluster. “Every rule has an exception, right?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to brush over it. He always finds himself doing that when you compliment him, skimming past it because he knows you mean it, but not in the way he wants you to mean it. “Don’t worry about it too much,” he adds consolingly, circling back to the guy you were seeing. Jaehee or Jaehyun or whatever. “He’s not worth your stress, alright?”

Your buoyant mood has simmered down a little, and you stare thoughtfully at a spot by his ear. “Mm. I guess so.”

“I know so.” Mingyu inclines his head to the side to catch your gaze, and with a start, he realises your eyes are welling up. “Hey! Hey, don’t cry!” He crosses the room in a second, wrapping you into a hug — you’re still sitting on the counter, but you drop your head onto his shoulder with a weak little sniffle.

Bringing a hand up to cradle your head, Mingyu hushes you quietly. “Don’t cry over him. He’s not worth it, you know that.”

“It’s not him,” you say tearfully, hiccuping into his shirt. “I just — I really want to be in love, Mingyu. I want someone to love me.”

Mingyu has to fight the urge to scream. Because he wants to scream, wants to make you hear how loudly he’s been loving you since he met you, wants to make you see that he’s right here. But he can’t do that to you right now. The timing isn't right, and he knows it’s not.

So he’ll wait. However long it takes.

september 24th, 2023

“There you are,” Mingyu says to the back of your figure, after letting himself into your apartment. The spare key was technically only for emergencies, but he rang the bell twice before figuring you were in the shower, and the snacks he brought were too heavy to hold on to for much longer. “I rang and you didn’t answer!”

You whip round like a gunshot, looking startled — as if you didn’t invite him over this very morning. “You’re here!”

“I rang twice,” he repeats, with furrowed brows. “What?” he says, self-consciously. “I know the key was only for emergencies, but my hands were falling off!”

It’s like you only realise now that he’s loaded with two grocery bags. “Oh,” you say, voice small. “What are those?”

“Snacks. For the movie?” Your face remains blank, and Mingyu’s more confused than ever. “I got your favourites, don’t worry.”

“I didn’t ask you to bring snacks.” Your voice isn’t accusative, exactly — it wavers a little, bordering on touched. Which only confuses Mingyu more, because it’s just snacks.

Foregoing his questions, he moves to dump the bags on the counter — but you mirror his movements, sidestepping so awkwardly that he knows something’s off.

“What are you hiding?” He’s on you instantly, because your eyes always betray you.

And if they didn’t, your voice would. “Nothing!” Pitched a little too high, spoken a little too fast.

“Behind you, what’s that?” Mingyu almost makes a dive for it, but you snatch it up before he can. “Flowers,” he realises aloud, heart sinking a little as he tries to force nonchalance into his tone. “They’re pretty.” (They’re his favourite too, which only rubs salt in the wound.) “Who got them for you?”

“I got them.” Your voice is still doing that squeaky, nervous thing, but Mingyu feels a sudden rush of relief that he tries his hardest to disguise at your words.

He hums, feigning normalcy, and starts unloading the snacks. “This one’s limited edition,” he says, holding up a Pocky packet. “It looks kind of — whoa!”

His sentence is cut off when you thrust the bouquet under his nose. “For you,” you say quickly. I got them for you.”

Just like he was in this very kitchen two years ago, Mingyu’s breathless. He takes them on autopilot — everything’s on autopilot, even his bewildered, “What?”

“Turn around,” you say with beseeching eyes. “I’m too scared to say it to your face.”

“Say what?”

“Turn around!”

He turns around, and he waits. He can feel the nerves radiating off you. He hears you shift your weight from one foot to the other. He swears he even hears you swallow thickly. Louder than all of that, he looks at his favourite flowers and hears himself start to hope.

And then, cutting through all the noise — “I love you, Kim Mingyu.”

december 22nd, 2024

“There you are,” you say sleepily, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. You’d taken an impromptu nap on Mingyu’s lap while he was gaming in your room, but when his stomach had started rumbling, he’d carefully draped a blanket over your shoulders and edged his way out to start on dinner.

“Here I am,” Mingyu says, smiling at you from the stove. He lifts the spoon and beckons you closer, feeding you the soup. “How is it?”

Rubbing one eye, you speak through a yawn. “‘S good.” You slide your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your face into his back. Your words come out muffled. “Maybe a little more salt. Why’d you leave me?”

Mingyu can’t help the smile stretching over his face. “Leave you?”

“I woke up alone,” you say sulkily, but you don’t let go of him, even as he shuffles from cupboard to cupboard.

“I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up,” he murmurs, adding a pinch of salt and stirring. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Very hungry.” He lifts the spoon for you to taste it again, and you let out a satisfied sigh. “You’re forgiven,” you declare, kissing his cheek. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mingyu lowers his free hand to squeeze yours, interlocked over his stomach, before turning you in his arms to face you properly. He smiles when he finds your eyes, finally, cupping your warm face in his warm hands. “Ah,” he says softly, brushing a kiss to your lips. “There you are.”

author's note! since it's my birthday -- it's like a gift of appreciation! thank you all for being here. i know i don't usually make banners for drabbles, but this picture is what sparked the idea in the first place. and it was fun! i might do it again. (<- has already done it for the v-day drabble.)

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

@icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9

@lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere

@pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi @porridgesblog

#mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff

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kaiserposting · 3 days ago

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My Worries Come in Phallic, Freudian Shapes

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2k TYPE: Established Relationship, It's basically just Kaiser tweaking for no reason 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ (I find it funny but interpretations may vary) WARNING(S): Kaiser's overactive imagination?

Kaiser would like to say he’s quite numb to being separated from you. Sometimes you come along with him at away games, if possible, but in other instances you have to be apart sometimes even for months, and Kaiser likes to think he manages it well.

You’re not on his mind much when he’s training or during a game. Mostly his times of weakness happen outside of that, though Kaiser doesn’t let it get to him. For example, he does this fun exercise where if his mind strays towards you too often or when he can sense the void in his chest is beginning to take on a suspicious shape, he holds out on texting or calling you for as long as possible. To test his will — which is something normal people do like all the time, of course — and because wanting to distract himself gives him extra neurotic energy to burn when he’s doing his exercises.

Not that Kaiser becomes neurotic over you or anything. It’s not even a big deal to him.

He’s sure you miss him more than he misses you. He’s confident you do. After all, to him, it’s no big deal, as previously stated. It’s true.

He doesn’t worry about small and nonsensical things like how you’d probably prefer a more present and available boyfriend, and how you’re free to do whatever you want with remarkable ease when you’re seas and oceans away from him.

Kaiser’s eye twitches while he continues shoving the last of his belongings back into his luggage, since he needs to pack for his flight back home. This train of thought isn’t going anywhere good — he needs to abandon it. Besides, a second with Michael Kaiser is worth way more than a month with some stupid, worthless commoner. Your shitty replacement for him will never rival the real deal.

No, this is stupid. You love him, you don’t have a replacement for him. Right? You wouldn’t betray him while he’s away. You’re his first and only love, you can’t do that to him, can you? You know he’d kill you if you did it and he found out, don’t you?

This is stupid. He wouldn’t kill you! Kaiser doesn’t want to kill you. He should stop thinking about this… You wouldn’t do it to him either anyway, you love him back. Kaiser knows you do, so why does it not feel real most of the time?

What if you’ve fallen out of love with him, though? Maybe you look forward to when he has to go away for long. Forget all about him the moment he’s out of your sight, don’t spare him a single thought, have fun with your little friends while he’s gone, all that.

You probably get together and you start shit-talking him with them the way people do about their good for nothing boyfriends sometimes. They call his haircut stupid and you cackle along with them, then you tell them how insecure and unlovable he really is, and actually his dad beat him as a child so now he’s barely human, how it makes him an arrogant and pretentious piece of trash pretender, and then you’re like ‘I wish I had a normal boyfriend instead of Michael’, and they’re all like ‘you deserve a normal boyfriend, this is fucked up’, and you’re empowered to free yourself of your burden. So he comes back home and you pick him up from the flight and you break the news to him that you’re leaving him and he has to move his belongings back to his place.

Maybe you have a new fling already, but it’s nothing serious because you still need to dump Kaiser and all. And he’s like in finances or something, an accountant maybe, who works normal hours (not the overachieving workaholic type who stays behind to do extra), and he probably doesn’t have footage of him having meltdowns on live TV for everyone to see. There are no interviews where he’s acting bitchy, no compilations of him acting cruel or ‘crashing out’ or whatever else. And he probably grew up in an average household — they weren’t rich or anything, but his parents made time for him. They were loving and nurtured him to be a rightful member of society, raising him to be someone worth your affection��

Holy shit does Kaiser feel unhinged. Literally why is he making up this entire story in his head? It never happened.

It didn’t, right? You wouldn’t do it to him, would you? You love him. You really, really, really love him, like from the bottom of your heart, somehow you love him and you don’t want to hurt him, even if you’re probably sick of him being away and of his problems and his attitude and his everything. If you had a magic wand, he wagers you’d wave it and change him on a neurochemical level, keep his looks and his successes, but get rid of the unnecessary baggage.

Or would you keep him as he is and love that ugly thing? Can you? Do you have it in you? Are you just tolerating him for some monetary benefits or out of pity with your knowledge of his past? Do you still love him? Will you love him a few hours from now or are you going to get bored? Are you bored and antsy waiting for him and is it affecting your feelings, suffocating your love to zero each moment he’s not by your side, each reunion only serving to put off the inevitable? Is the novelty wearing off? Do you need novelty?

Kaiser fights off the impulse to write you a text message threatening suicide and then turning off his phone until the end of the flight to keep you on your toes. A flashy move in attention seeking for sure, but for one you don’t even know he’s in a mind war with you, so you’re more likely to be confused than begging for him not to do it and for his forgiveness, though maybe it could earn him a reassurance of love and care. Regardless, Kaiser is not taking the chance because if you ignore him or don’t see the message it’ll just devastate him.

And also he kind of doesn’t want to act like that. Well, he does, but the rational part of him is also still awake and holding him back. You won’t appreciate that. Right now the strife he’s going through is completely imaginary, but if he goes and acts crazy outside the confines of his mind, he really might fuck everything up.

If he makes too many mistakes, you might fall out of love with him, and if you fall out of love with him, you’ll leave him. Kaiser thinks about what he’d do in that case. Without you he is nothing besides an unwanted waste of breath — you’re the sole person who got close enough to see beneath his nonsense and decide to tolerate it, attracted beyond frivolity for an enigmatic reason.

Maybe the perpetrator behind this strange limbo of weird hysteria is Kaiser’s low self-esteem. It always circles back to that and he is sick of it. He doesn’t understand why you subject yourself to him and here, a whole ordeal.

Whatever anymore. Kaiser doesn’t even care. It’s a pointless matter to lose his mind over. He knows you cherish him, and even if you didn’t, he’d get over it. Life moves on. There are other fish in the sea…

Actually, if you tried to leave him, Kaiser has so many things he would do, they’d earn him a restraining order. First he’d resort to begging and ugly crying, but he doubts it’d sway you. He’d need to be more extreme.

No, that’s silly. If you separated, he’d react to it like a normal person, right? He wouldn’t do a thing. He’d let you leave without any theatrics and move on. Right? It’s what he would do, Kaiser decides.

Or maybe he can get a leg up on you and catch you out when you begin losing interest in him and he can work to win you back over. You won’t even know what hit you. Yea, Kaiser will scheme to sweep you off your feet.

Not that he cares that much to put so much effort in… It’s just his strength and natural calling as an unbothered male manipulator.

___

After the packing and the waiting at the airport and all that, Kaiser survives a restless flight. He tried to read a book during it, but he turned out not to enjoy it whatsoever (catastrophe). Then he turned to Gesner, who was sitting next to him and seemed like he wanted to kill himself, and told him in detail about all the plot problems and why this was what made nonfiction superior.

To Gesner’s relief Kaiser also spent a good chunk of it trying to sleep, though the endeavor was useless. He closed his eyes and his pattern of anxious cyclical thinking continued and he failed to doze off. What do you think about accountants? Maybe your side piece wouldn’t have any tattoos because you secretly find his corny and you’ve sworn off tattooed men. ‘I mean, seriously, just put the eyeliner on like a real man.’ Kaiser would bet this is what you’re saying to your friends.

Anyway, again, his flight was spent stirring in ridiculous thoughts in that vein. If nothing else, actually, if you knew what was running through his head, that would be what would put you off of him. But you don’t. He needs to just… keep it to himself and it’ll be fine.

So you find each other after some stumbling and chaos and some vague text exchanges like ‘where are you?’, ‘At the airport obviously’, ‘you think you’re so funny’, and so on, and when you spot each other, you grin upon the sight of him (hard to fake such immediate happiness, Kaiser concludes) and spread your arms out for a hug.

Kaiser rolls his eyes. You’re so cute, he wants to squeeze you to death, but regardless he puts on a big show of what an inconvenience this is and gives you a stiff, nonchalant embrace. The way you hold him is a small reassurance. You’re still in public though, so he needs to play it cool for a bit longer, and he reluctantly peels himself away from you.

You interrogate him about his time away while he’s your passenger princess on the way home. Kaiser takes it as a good sign you’re still interested in his life at least enough to ask, as if there was a possibility he was going to come back and you just… wouldn’t give a fuck about him or what he’s been up to. He keeps his answers vague, trying not to let on the almost daily mental torment he’s been subjecting himself to just because his brain can’t stop making up stupid narratives.

Once you two arrive, and only when you’re inside, does Kaiser give into his desire for your affection. He wraps you up in a way tighter embrace without intention of letting go and peppers your face in kisses.

The first time he acted like that with you upon coming back, you were rightfully weirded out, but now you’re used to this whole routine and let him have his moment of rare forwardness.

“You know,” he says, “I missed you like, a little bit.”

“It’s hard to tell,” you say, sarcastic.

Kaiser ignores it. He bites your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt at all, but it’s a strange sensation.

“So gross.”

“I hope you weren’t doing anything stupid without me. I wouldn't want to miss out on any fun.”

“I wasn’t.”

“What do you think about accountants?”

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, but humor him anyway. “Can’t say I think anything in particular about them.”

“Is that so…”

For some reason, you find his tone to sound suspicious? There is a harder bite — your skin might be a bit irritated around there for a few minutes. You wonder if Kaiser was arguing with management or something somewhere abroad.

___

I just wrote this because I thought Kaiser having emotional impermanence (which is likely) would be hilarious I promise I'll write a more plot-oriented one shot soon again

#kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #michael kaiser x you #blue lock x you

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alaia777 · 2 days ago

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IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO SPECIFY IF I WANTED FLUFF OR ANGST😓😓 I want fluff😋

I requested rin (bllk) for "you really have no clue how to talk to women, huh?" OR "we should just run away."

i hope you like it! :’)

you’ve been dating rin for almost two years now, but you’ve known him for much longer—ever since kindergarten, when you told him football was stupid, and he immediately shot back that you were stupid. one “fight” later, your teacher forced you to spend recess together for a week, and somehow, you’ve been stuck with each other ever since.

so by now, it’s routine—annoying him, getting on his nerves, and watching him act like your presence is a burden when you both know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

you were the one who made the first move, mostly because you had a slight suspicion he liked you. you’d had feelings for him for a while, and the more you noticed the little things, the more convinced you became.

and when you finally told him, he had the straightest face ever—completely unreadable. except for his red ears. and the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed.

…yeah. you were right.

the only thing he told you after that was a simple “same,” and the rest is history.

it might not look like it to anyone else, but to you, rin is the sweetest guy. sure, he has a hard time verbalizing his feelings, but you know he cares. it’s in the small things—like when he picks up your favorite beverage from the coffee shop, paired with whatever pastry obsession you’re into that week. or when he sets aside time every week to watch rom-coms with you, even if there’s a football match on tv.

and then, there are the little gifts. he never calls them sentimental, but you know better. every time he comes back from a city he was playing in, there’s always something small he picked up for you—sometimes a keychain from a place you both visited together, or a notebook from a city you’d talked about visiting but never had the chance to. each one of them has a connection to a memory between the two of you, something only the two of you would understand, and that’s what makes them so special.

but verbalizing it? he’s just not the best at it. rin’s pretty cutthroat with everyone, and even though he used to be like that with you when you were just friends, now that you’re more than that, he doesn’t want to risk it. he keeps his words to himself, always cautious.

so, when you’re getting ready for your date with him, it catches you off guard when he says:

“that is a dress.”

“yes. it is,” you reply, still not quite understanding his reaction.

“you’re wearing it.”

“yes, i am.”

you’ve worn dresses around him before, so his reaction is a bit confusing. “rin, what’s going on?”

“nothing,” he says quickly, avoiding eye contact, though you can tell he’s trying to say more.

“it fits you,” he adds, almost reluctantly, before quickly looking away, clearly not used to expressing compliments.

when you finally understood what was going on, you couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. “you really have no clue how to talk to women, huh?” you said, trying to stifle your giggles, but the more you tried, the more it looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“that movie we were watching the other day, the girl said women like to be complimented by their boyfriends. i thought..” he trailed off, his gaze darting away. “i thought you might want that too.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “oh, so now you’re using rom-coms for relationship advice, huh?”

he scowled, clearly irritated, but there was no mistaking the faint blush creeping up his neck. “shut up. don’t make this a big deal.”

you laughed again, unable to resist. “too late, rinnie. you’ve already made it a thing.”

rin let out a long sigh, clearly trying to hide his discomfort. “can we just go already?” he grumbled, glancing at you quickly before looking away.

you raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. “what’s the matter, rin? never complimented someone before?”

he scowled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “i don’t do that.”

“right, you’re too cool for that.” you teased, arms crossed.

“i’m not, just, it’s stupid, okay?” rin muttered, still avoiding eye contact.

“so what was that about rom-coms then?” you pressed, enjoying his flustered state.

“i don’t need your sarcasm right now,” he shot back, clearly embarrassed but not willing to admit it.

you chuckled, stepping closer to him. “fine, let’s just go, rinnie. but you know, maybe you should try complimenting me more often. you’re not so bad at it.”

rin grumbled under his breath but you could see the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, just enough to know he wasn’t really as annoyed as he was letting on.

“let’s go,” he repeated, his tone still blunt, but you could tell he was less annoyed than before.

you grinned, following him out, because even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, you knew he cared.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x y/n

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 2 days ago

Text

i just wanna be one of your girls

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — mdni, sexual content, slight manipulation, kind of dark!rafe

summary — things mean!rafe would do to desperate!reader

authors note — i’m trying my hardest to get back into writing guys i swear. heres a part 2!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

mean!rafe who absolutely loves the power he has over desperate!reader. how he can just snap his fingers and have you right at his fingertips willing to do anything he asked.

mean!rafe who thinks the crush you have on him is absolutely adorable and loves to rub it in your face. he gets a sick kick out of teasing you and keeping you close enough to still want him, even though you know he’s just out of your reach and you’ll never fully have him.

mean!rafe who hates seeing you talk to other guys at parties but will blatantly flirt with other girls in front of you. all just to see you whiny with glassy eyes and begging him to take you home where you’ll know he’ll fuck you just right.

mean!rafe who calls you at any moment for a quickie of some sort because he knows you’ll always pick up and speed over to anywhere he was to do whatever he wanted, no matter how far.

mean!rafe who’d always fuck you any chance he got in the dirtiest way to show you just how much power he had over you.

mean!rafe who’d go raw every single time simply because you let him. even begged him for it.

mean!rafe who didn’t kiss you at first because he didn’t want you getting anymore attached than you already were.

mean!rafe who’d take pictures of your face full of his cum and store them away in his hidden album to brag about with his friends later.

mean!rafe who marked you up every single time just to keep everyone else off of you. he loved seeing the deep purple bruises that littered your skin because of him.

mean!rafe who sometimes found himself getting soft with you when you cried about how you never felt good enough for him after seeing him with so many other girls. it made him feel a little guilty, something he was never used to.

mean!rafe who owned a key to your house and would show up whenever he pleased just to feel you wrapped around him.

mean!rafe who always ran back to you no matter what, even if he’d trick you into thinking it was the other way around.

mean!rafe who eventually started to develop feelings for you. he loved the clingy, desperate nature of you and it made his heart full whenever he’d stay the night after you cried and begged him too.

mean!rafe who was whimpering into your ear as he drilled into you from behind and accidentally let a soft “i love you” slip out. he later gaslit you into thinking you were so desperate for any form of affection so you made it up in that delusional head of yours.

#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #outer banks #obx

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thecuriousbeauty · 3 days ago

Text

Under His Watch-Part 1 (Harry Styles x reader)

Series synopsis: Y/N, an ambitious FBI intern, joins the homicide department, where she catches the eye of the brooding head detective, Harry Styles. As they tackle high-stakes cases together, Y/N uncovers a side of Harry no one else sees. Are they just boss and intern, or something more?

Word count: 9.1k

A/N:- Hello everyone, so sorry for being gone for a while, but I'm back with something new that I hope you guys will love! This is going to be a short, two part series so like it up and reblog so I can get the second part out soon!

Warnings: Talks of murder, drug dealings, killings, crime scenes, violence, usage of gun. No smut in this part, but definitely in the next;)

____________________________________________

The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden light through the open window. The air feels fresh, but with a touch of warmth that hints at the summer heat to come. Birds chirp in the distance, their songs a gentle reminder of the new day. A light breeze stirs the curtains, carrying the scent of flowers blooming outside.

In a small, cozy bedroom, y/n stands before her mirror. She fidgets with her clothes, unsure whether the outfit is too formal or too casual for her first day at work. She has seen agents usually wear suits, but she opted for a dark blue buttoned shirt and pants, because she was just starting as an intern. Her fingers tremble slightly as she adjusts her hair, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling inside her. Her heart races, each beat echoing the uncertainty of what’s to come.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The thought of the day ahead makes her stomach flutter—so many unknowns, so many new faces, and yet, the possibility of something great. She smiles at her reflection, trying to reassure herself. Beneath the jitters, there’s a spark—an energy that comes from stepping into something new, a sense of potential.

She checks the time and realizes she’s running a little late.The world outside is already awake, and so is she, ready to take on whatever her first day at work will bring.

Y/N doesn’t know when she decided to pursue a career as a detective. Maybe it was all the detective shows she used to watch with her father as a kid, or maybe it was the numerous novels she’d read. She loves the suspense, the mystery, and figuring out all the little clues. She loves the thrill of it. And now, as a result of her hard work and dedication, she has gotten into the FBI’s internship program.

The actual, Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The FBI building looms like a fortress in the heart of the city, its imposing, angular structure made of dark granite and steel. The air is thick with history and authority, as if the walls themselves hold the secrets of countless investigations. As she takes her detective steps through the sliding glass doors, the buzz of activity inside is palpable. Agents in suits walk briskly through the sleek, modern lobby, while the hum of conversation fills the space with a sense of purpose.

The hallways are lined with framed photos of notable cases and agents, a constant reminder of the legacy the building holds. The lighting is stark, the floors polished to a mirror shine, and the walls adorned with maps and classified files that hint at the work being done behind closed doors. It’s both overwhelming and exhilarating—this is where the nation’s most pressing cases unfold.

“Oh, Miss y/l/n, right on time!”, she hears before she sees none other than one of her superiors, part of the homicide department, Agent Eliza Carter. She had taken her interview. The woman held two coffees, and gave her the same kind smile she had given her that day.

“Good morning, Agent Carter!”

“Morning to you too. Sorry, I forgot to mention, you’ll be with homicide this month, probably another department for the next, and so on. Boss man’s just about to start the meeting, so come on quick!”

“Right. Do you know anything about the case?”

Her heels click behind her as she follows the agent, her eyes continuing to look around, absorbing everything around her.

“Oh yeah, this is actually an old case. A really annoying one, you’ll see. Harry will brief us anyway.”

Harry. Detective Agent Harry Styles.

Head of the homicide department, and one of the most renowned and respected figures in the field. His reputation precedes him: sharp, methodical, and almost legendary in his ability to solve cases that others can’t even begin to crack. She had heard stories about his brilliant mind, how he could piece together the smallest details that everyone else overlooked. The thought of getting to learn directly from him sends a rush of nervous energy through her veins.

“Can you get the door please?”, Eliza asks, and y/n quickly swings the glass door open for her, and then steps in herself, into the big room where there were around seven people gathered. All of them in matching suits, discussing amongst each other as they stared at the boards pinned with information about their cases.

“Everyone, this is y/n y/l/n, our new intern, she’s gonna be with us for this month!”, Eliza introduces, handing one of the coffees to a man, who also gives y/n a smile. “Hello, I’m Ethan Grant.”

The others also started introducing themselves, most of them friendly and smiling, two of them only giving her a nod, to which Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Styles running late?”, Agent Cole Matthews asks as he looks at his watch.

“I saw him getting a call, he had that face on.”, Nora says. She had short silver hair, and dark blue eyes, that looked like she would kill you if you pissed her off.

“Oh no, that can’t be good.”, Eliza shook her head.

“Face?”, y/n asks the girls who just smile at each other, Nora gives her a wink. “You’ll see.”

The door swings open with a quiet click, and Detective Harry Styles steps into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. Tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that fits just right, he exudes a quiet authority. His broad shoulders and confident stride catch the eye, but it’s his sharp jawline and the faint stubble along his chin that hint at a more rugged edge beneath his polished exterior.

His eyes—piercing, yet thoughtful—scan the room as he steps forward, his gaze pausing just long enough to meet each of their eyes, an unspoken understanding passing through the group. The way he moves is purposeful, the air around him almost charged with intensity, as if every step he takes is measured, calculated.

Then his eyes meet hers, eyebrows raising up in question. “New intern, boss.”, Ethan says.

She acts quickly to introduce herself, “I’m y/n, it’s such a pleasure to-”

“We’re still talking interns?”, he rudely cuts her off, and her lips seal shut at his tone.

“Yes we’re doing rotations this year, Harry, they must have given you a form to sign.”, Eliza said, and Harry let out a sigh, not even batting a single eye in y/n’s direction, turning around to the projector.

“Whatever. Let’s get to work, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

Y/N’s heart sinks. She’d imagined this moment so differently—she thought he’d at least say something encouraging, maybe give her a quick nod of acknowledgment. But instead, there’s only the cold, impersonal air of the office, and his complete disregard.

“We’re dealing with a 30-year-old man named Charles Russo. He's been on our radar before but slipped through the cracks. He’s involved in drug trafficking, but this isn’t just about drugs—it’s about control. He’s a key figure in a network that stretches across the city, and he’s responsible for at least three recent murders tied to his operations.”

A photograph of Russo appears on the projector screen—a mugshot from a previous arrest, his face hard and defiant, his eyes cold. Styles gestures to the image.

“This is our suspect. Russo has managed to stay under the radar for months, but he’s back in the game. We have intel from one of his associates that he’s been laying low, but now we’ve gotten wind of him resurfacing. We know he’s been making contact with his former contacts in the drug trade, and his movements have been tracked to the outskirts of the city.”

He pauses, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. The team leans forward, eyes narrowing as they take in every word.

“We can’t afford to let him slip away again,” Harry continues. “He’s ruthless. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way. The last time he disappeared, it took months for us to get any leads. We’re not going to make that mistake again.”

“So what’s the plan?”, Nora asks.

Harry points to a map on the wall. The area surrounding an old industrial district near the city’s border is highlighted in red.

“We’ve got a lead. A tip from an anonymous source says Russo is meeting with one of his suppliers here,” Harry explains, tapping the map. “We’ll be setting up surveillance teams around this location. We’re going to hit him where we know he feels comfortable. His old contacts will be there, and that’s our chance to bring him in.”

He looks at his team, making sure they understand the stakes. "This won't be easy. Russo knows how to cover his tracks, and he won't hesitate to go violent if he thinks he's cornered. I want everyone to stay sharp, no mistakes. We’ll have undercover agents in place, and our best tech team will be monitoring the area for any sign of movement.”

He glances at y/n, the intern who’s been quietly taking notes in the back. His voice softens just slightly, but still firm.

“You’re going to work with Carter and Grant to run background checks on Russo’s known associates. I want every detail—every business transaction, every phone call, every scrap of information you can dig up. It could be the key to finding him faster. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” She nods quickly, her mind racing. This is her chance to contribute, to prove herself, and she’s not about to let it slip away.

“Once we have enough intel, we move in. Fast, clean, and without hesitation. Our goal is to catch him off guard,” Harry finishes, his gaze sweeping over his team. “I expect everyone to be in sync. This guy has evaded us long enough. Let’s make sure it ends tonight.”

The room falls into a focused silence as everyone gets to work. The plan is set, and the wheels are already in motion.

Eliza shows y/n her desk, and Ethan quickly shows her all the technology, y/n didn’t need much explaining, she was familiar with it all. She had even taken up courses in coding and hacking.

Finally, it’s time to attack. Officers bustle around, adjusting their gear, making final checks on equipment, and running through last-minute details. The hum of radios, the clinking of handcuffs, and the soft rustling of jackets fill the air as the room feels like it’s on the verge of something big. y/n stands off to the side, a little on edge as she watches Harry gather the team for their final briefing. His green eyes scan the room with that characteristic sharpness, giving quick instructions to the officers heading to different positions.

With a deep breath, she approaches Harry as he finishes talking to Detective Logan Pierce. Her pulse quickens, and she straightens her shoulders. This is it.

“Detective Styles,” she begins, trying to keep her voice steady, “I was wondering if—if I could come along. I know I’m new, but I’ve been following everything closely, and I’m ready. I can help in any way I can.”

Harry looks at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. There’s a brief silence before he responds, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not ready for this kind of field work. This operation is too high-risk, and it’s not something you should be thrown into on your first day. I need you back here, where you can handle communication, and make sure we stay on track. You’ll be a key part of this, just not in the way you expect.”

She feels a small pang of disappointment, but it’s quickly replaced by a sense of clarity. He’s right. She’s still learning the ropes. The reality of the danger in the field is something she can’t ignore. But at the same time, the disappointment doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would. She’s still going to play a crucial role.

“Understood,” she says, nodding as she pushes her feelings aside. She can feel a sense of purpose rising in her chest. “I’ll stay in touch with the agents, make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll be ready to react if anything goes wrong.”

A flicker of approval crosses Harry’s face, though he doesn't show it fully. “Good luck!”, she can’t help but call out as Harry reaches for his own bullet proof suit and a hint of a smirk crosses his lips.

It was so brief, that she wondered if she had really seen it, or if she had imagined it.

The night is thick with tension as the operation unfolds, the air heavy with the weight of what’s at stake. Outside the industrial district, the team is in position, each agent hidden in shadows, waiting for the signal to move. Inside the precinct, y/n is stationed at her desk, headphones on, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tracks the operation. Her eyes are focused on the live feeds from the surveillance cameras set up around the district, her mind sharp and alert.

The plan is simple—surround Russo and catch him in the act. The agents are ready, but they need to stay in constant contact. That’s where she comes in. She’s the lifeline,watching the feeds, listening to their transmissions, and keeping them updated. She had earpieces connected to Harry and Cole, who had teams on both doors of the warehouse.

Through the earpiece, the voice of Agent Logan Pierce crackles to life. “y/l/n,we’re about to move in on Russo. He’s on the move—heading toward the south side of the warehouse. We need a visual confirmation. Is he coming into our range?”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest, but she keeps her voice steady. “Got him. He’s moving east toward the rear entrance. You’ve got about thirty seconds before he reaches the blind spot. You need to move fast.”

“Copy that,” Pierce responds. “We’re moving in now.”

y/n watches the screen, heart racing as she tracks Russo’s every step, eyes darting between the surveillance feeds and the map on her screen. Every second feels like an eternity. She checks her watch, counts the seconds in her head. Then, suddenly, he disappeared.

“Shit.”, she says, trying to figure out where the piece of shit is headed now.

“I hope I didn’t just hear you say shit while monitoring one of the most important cases, newbie.”, she hears Agent Styles, and her cheeks redden a little bit, but she focuses on the task.

“Sorry, you need to wait, Agent Pierce, I’ve lost him.”

“You’ve lost him? What do you mean? He’s right here-”

“-No, I think..I think he’s coming around from the other door. Agent Styles?”

He answers immediately while y/n works on a way to monitor Russo again, “Yes, are you sure it’s not a connectivity problem or-.”

“I think he’s on your side.”

“Oh yeah? That mother fucker. Guys, close in.”

“Wait, y/n, are you sure? Cause this might be the last chance we have to get him and one mistake-”, Cole begins, a little unsure.

The image on the monitor shifts—Russo steps into the frame.

“Agent Styles, he’s about to break through—wait for it—now!”

The moment she speaks, Harry and the rest of the team spring into action. They converge on Russo in a synchronized move, cutting off his escape route before he can even react. There’s a flurry of movement, the sound of boots pounding on the ground, and then, within seconds, Russo is tackled to the ground, handcuffed and subdued.

A burst of static fills her earpiece, followed by Harry’s voice. “We got him. He’s down. Nice work, y/n. You nailed it.”

He called her by her name for the first time and the compliment made her heart race in a way she hadn’t expected. She blinks, her breath catching in her throat. Styles—the man she had been eager to impress—had just complimented her, and it felt like everything she’d hoped for.

“Thanks,” she replies, trying to keep her composure. “I just did what I could.”

“Well you’re the first newbie to actually not piss me off on their first day. You can go home, y/n, enough for the day. We’ll bring him in.”

Y/N exhales slowly, a rush of adrenaline flooding her veins. Her hands shake just a little as she removes her headset, a smile creeping up her face. They did it. They caught Russo, and she was the one who helped make it happen. For the first time since walking into this precinct, she feels like she truly belongs.

___________________________________________________

Over the next few days, she really fit in with the team members. She especially loved talking with the girls, Nora and Eliza. They’re laughing about the latest office drama—how Agent Matthews accidentally spilled coffee all over Harry’s favorite jacket this morning.

“I swear, it’s like he doesn’t even notice how clumsy he is,” Nora says, shaking her head with a grin. “But Styles—he’s always so cool, never says a word. You’d think he’d be fuming after that.”

y/n chuckles, feeling more at ease in their company. "I bet he was just silently judging him in that typical Styles way. You know the look I'm talking about, right?"

Eliza laughs, leaning in. “Oh, absolutely. The silent judgment is his trademark. But I’m surprised he didn’t rip Pierce a new one.”

y/n finds herself grinning at the camaraderie, feeling like she’s starting to fit into the team’s dynamic. It’s easy, the way they talk, tease, and laugh together.

She decides to stay back a little longer that day, her eyes skim through the pages—cold cases from years ago, some unsolved, others with only the vaguest of leads. She’s been digging into them to understand the bigger picture of how the team operates, trying to learn from the cases they’ve solved, and the ones they’ve left behind.

Her focus is interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She looks up to see Harry, his coat over his arm and his briefcase in hand. He stops a few steps away, his gaze lingering on the pile of files she’s working through.

Her gaze lingered on his arm, his sleeve rolled up enough for the ink on his forearm to peek through. She could see the dark outline of a tattoo—a design she’d never noticed before—curving around his wrist and disappearing beneath the cuff of his shirt. The way the ink curled around his skin made her wonder how many more he had hidden beneath his clothes.

She couldn’t help but admire the way his sleeves clung to his muscular arms, the sharp lines of his body defining his form. His green eyes were a striking contrast to his skin, deep and captivating. They always seemed to hold a quiet storm, a vulnerability masked behind his professional exterior. The way his curls fell around his forehead, slightly unruly, added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise polished look.

There was something magnetic about his distinct features, something that caught her attention all the time.

“You’re still here?” he asks, voice quiet, as if genuinely surprised she hasn’t already left for the day. There’s something in his tone that feels different, not judgmental, but more... curious. Maybe even a little approving.

y/n clears her throat, trying not to seem too caught up in the files. “Yeah. Just trying to catch up on some of the old cases. Figured it’s a good way to learn how you all approach things.”

Harry studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before setting his briefcase down and taking a few steps closer. “You’ve got the right idea. We learn a lot from the cases we didn’t solve. The ones that slip through our fingers.”

She nods, feeling the weight of the truth in his words. “I’ve noticed that. Some of these cases... they’re so close to being solved, but there’s always one missing piece.” She pauses, flipping to a specific file that’s particularly puzzling. “What do you think about this one? A string of disappearances in a small town, no evidence left behind. It’s like they just vanished.”

Harry glances down at the file she’s holding, leaning over slightly, his voice low and contemplative. “Sometimes it’s not the evidence you’re looking for, but the pattern behind it. Whoever did this knew how to cover their tracks. But if you look at the people involved—especially the families, the connections between them—you might find something that doesn’t belong.”

“Thanks for that,” she says, her voice more sincere than usual. “I wasn’t sure if I was overthinking it.”

Harry gives a small, almost imperceptible smile, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a little. “You’re thinking in the right direction. Just keep pushing yourself. That’s how we get better at this job.”

She smiles in return, feeling a little more confident in her approach. Harry glances at his watch, then looks back at her. “Well, if you’re going to keep at it, you’ll need a little company. I was planning to head out, but it’s quieter here than usual.”

y/n looks up in surprise. “You’re staying?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Not really,” he says, his tone dry, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Just thought I’d walk you out. It’s late. Wouldn’t want you to be walking to your car alone.”

Her surprise morphs into a small, grateful smile. “That’s... considerate of you. Thanks.”

He offers a slight nod, then gestures toward the door. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.”

The two of them walk out together, the quiet hum of the office behind them. Outside, the evening air is crisp, the sky darkening as they make their way across the parking lot.

As they approach their cars, y/n hesitates for a moment, then turns to him. “You’ve been doing this for a long time, huh? The whole... detective thing. How do you keep from getting burned out?”

Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle of his car. He looks at her, his expression momentarily distant, as if reflecting on the years of work behind him.

“It’s not about not getting burned out,” he says quietly, “It’s about finding what keeps you going. Whether it’s the people you work with or the cases that pull you in, you have to find something that reminds you why you do it.”

y/n nods, absorbing his words as they linger in the cool air between them.

With that, he starts his engine and pulls away, leaving y/n standing in the quiet parking lot for a moment. She watches his car disappear down the road, wondering what led him into pursuing this career.

___________________________________________

The next day, the guys are gathered around a table near the bullpen, eyes glued to a sports game playing on the office TV. The game is close, Ethan and Cole are already arguing over who’s going to win the match.

“Come on, you’re seriously betting on them?” Ethan snorts, shaking his head. “They’ve been playing like amateurs.”

y/n can’t help but overhear, the playful banter catching her attention. She’s not usually one for sports, but she’s been learning the ropes from her fellow agents. She knows enough to get by, and today, something about the challenge calls to her.

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite,” she says, walking over with a raised eyebrow. “How much are we betting here?”

Ethan looks up, surprised, then grins. “Didn’t think you’d be interested, y/n. You sure you know what you’re getting into?”

She smirks, her confidence growing. “I’m a quick learner. I’ll take your bet. I’m putting my money on the underdogs.”

Cole raises an eyebrow. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. This’ll be fun.”

As the game continues, the guys teasingly rib her for her risky bet, but y/n holds her ground, getting increasingly into the match. When the underdogs actually pull off the win, she’s the first one to stand up, pumping her fist in victory.

“Told you,” she says, beaming with pride as the guys groan good-naturedly. “Pay up, gentlemen.”

“Yes, we’ll be there soon, got it.” They all look up at the sound of their boss, who comes into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Murder scene in Oak Drive, let’s go.”, Harry tells them, and everyone gets onto their feet, getting ready to go.

y/n goes to her desk as usual, knowing she’ll be given the duty of doing the background checks.

“Who’re you riding with Styles?”, Logan asks him.

Harry straps on his gun, and looks at y/n. “Can you drive?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Come on, then, newbie, let’s go to your first murder scene.”

y/n almost squealed with joy, jumping up in excitement, but then toned it down as Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her answer.

“Yes sir, right away.”

The car ride is quiet, with a subtle tension between them, an unspoken understanding, a quiet connection that neither has acknowledged. y/n's fingers tighten around the steering wheel as they approach the crime scene. He can’t help but steal a glance at y/n—she’s focused, eyes sharp, her thoughts clearly already at the scene ahead.

“You aren’t gonna faint, are you?”, Harry asks, breaking the silence. “Cause one of the interns did, seeing all the blood.”

She laughed lightly. “Nope, I’m excited, and I’m good with blood.”

“Good.”, Harry lets a small smile escape, and she pulls over to the crime scene. The other agents have already reached and are doing their allotted work.

"Alright, you’ll handle the photos for now. We’ll take care of the rest."

Y/N nods, grabbing her camera from the seat beside her, trying to steady her nerves. She’s been given more responsibility lately, and with Harry’s subtle support, she’s been slowly gaining confidence.

"Got it. I'll make sure to get everything."

As she moves closer to the crime scene, Y/N kneels by the body, snapping photos of the surroundings. Her heart beats a little faster as she works, but the adrenaline feels good. And while the scene before her is dark, there’s something about Harry’s quiet faith in her that makes her feel capable. She captures the details—each angle, each small clue—as if she’s been doing this for years. She steals a glance back at Harry, catching him watching her from a distance. For a moment, she wonders if he sees something more than just a hard-working intern.

As the team works around her, Harry steps away briefly to speak with the others, but his eyes flick back to her every so often. Y/N can feel it—his attention on her, the weight of it—but for now, she’s focused on her task. Still, there’s a strange pull between them, unspoken, but undeniable, lingering in the air like the tension of the scene itself.

Harry wants to leave soon, to talk to someone and take y/n with him, this time, he drives. As they pull away from the crime scene, Harry’s eyes are focused on the road, but his mind is already on the next step. Y/N’s still processing everything they’ve seen.

“So, what’s your take on this case so far?"

Y/N pauses, glancing up at him. She can tell he’s genuinely interested in her opinion.

“I think the victim knew the killer. Too many personal details for it to be random, but the motive’s still unclear."

Harry nods thoughtfully. "I agree. That’s why I’m going to talk to the first suspect now. Stay sharp—this could get tricky."

Y/N feels a small thrill at his trust in her judgment. It’s not just about the case anymore; it’s the way he values her input. As they drive toward the suspect’s location, she wonders if he’s giving her more responsibility on purpose, or if it’s just part of the job. Either way, it feels like a step forward.

After questioning the suspect, Harry and Y/N head back to the office, the car cutting through the quiet streets. Y/N’s mind is still on the conversation with the suspect, but then..her stomach growls loudly.

Harry glances over at her, his eyes sharp but gentle.

"Did you eat anything this morning?"

Y/N flushes slightly, trying to keep her cool, but the guilt is written all over her face.

"Yeah, I—"

"You didn’t eat, did you?"

Y/N shifts uncomfortably.

"I’m fine, really."

Harry sighs, shaking his head with a small smile."We’re making a stop. You’re getting something to eat. I know a good taco place.”

He turns the car off the main road, pulling into a small taco place. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh tortillas drifts through the air as they step out, and Harry opens the door for her, his usual professionalism replaced with a kind of care.

As they sit at a small booth, Y/N digs into her food, finally letting herself relax. Harry watches her for a moment, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. After a few bites, she glances up at him.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you always so grumpy? You’re like... a walking storm cloud sometimes."

Harry chokes on his drink a little, caught off guard by her boldness. He laughs—genuinely, with a surprised smile that softens his usually serious face.

He chuckles and wipes his mouth. "Grumpy? I’m not grumpy. I’m just... focused."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Focused, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?"

Harry shrugs, his smirk turning wry, clearly amused by her bluntness."Okay, maybe I’m a little grumpy. But someone’s gotta keep this place in line. You can’t just go around smiling all the time like everything’s sunshine and rainbows."

Y/N laughs, and for a second, their eyes meet. There’s an ease between them now, something playful, yet still with an undercurrent of something deeper. Harry’s usual walls are lower, and Y/N’s teasing is making him more human in her eyes.

"I don’t know, sometimes I think it wouldn’t hurt to see you smile a little more. Just... not at the crime scene, please."

Harry chuckles again, and it’s the kind of laugh that feels lighter than usual—almost as if he doesn’t mind sharing this side of himself with her.

"I’ll try. But no promises.", he says with a soft smirk.Y/N found herself grinning as she saw his dimples poke out. She hadn’t realized how much she loved seeing that little dimple until now, how it made him look so much more... approachable.

After a few more bites, she glances up at him. "Why did you want to be a detective, Agent Styles?"

The question lingers in the air. Harry’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth, and for a moment, there’s a heaviness between them. "Because I lost someone who mattered. My sister... she was murdered by some people when we were younger. I couldn’t sit by, not after that."

Y/N’s breath catches, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes—his calm demeanor betraying a history of loss that runs deep. It’s the first time she’s seen him so vulnerable, so open.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know.", she says quietly.

Harry shrugs, with a distant look in his eyes,"It’s alright. It’s been a long time... but it’s why I do this. It’s why I never give up on a case. To make sure no one else has to go through that."

There’s a pause, and Y/N feels the weight of his words sink in. She reaches out, placing her hand gently on his. The warmth of the moment takes them both by surprise. He appreciates the gesture, thumb ever so softly stroking a line on the back of her hand.

“You can call me Harry by the way, when we’re not at work.”, he says to lighten the air, and she smiles, drawing her hand back. “Okay.”

Little did she know that Harry had told her something that no one else knew about him.

________________________________________________________

The precinct is buzzing with its usual morning chaos, the air thick with the noise of phones ringing, officers discussing cases, and the sound of feet shuffling across the floors. y/n is at her desk, flipping through some case files, trying to focus. She’s about to make another note, when she hears the unmistakable sound of Ethan and Eliza approaching her desk, their voices carrying through the room in a familiar, teasing tone.

“Well, well, y/n, looks like you’ve caught Styles’ attention,” Ethan says with a playful grin, sliding into the seat across from her. He leans back, crossing his arms, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

y/n looks up, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Eliza raises an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, come on. We’ve all seen it. Harry doesn’t usually make time for anyone. But you—" she motions between the two of them, “—you got breakfast with him this morning. He doesn’t do that unless he’s got a soft spot.”

Eliza’s cheeks flush slightly. She opens her mouth to protest, but Ethan cuts her off.

“We’re just saying, Harry’s usually all business, right? But with you—” he gestures with a wink, “he’s practically a different guy. You must be special.”

y/n can’t help but laugh awkwardly, trying to brush it off. Yes, they had eaten breakfast together that morning, because both of them happened to arrive early to the office. “You guys are ridiculous. We just had breakfast. He saw me sitting alone and he was just being... well, Harry.”

But they aren’t buying it. Eliza smirks, leaning forward. “Right, Harry just casually opens up to you about his deepest, darkest secrets over a bagel. We’re all jealous, you know.”

y/n shakes her head, a little embarrassed, but also secretly amused. “Okay, okay, I get it. He’s not a softie, I swear.”

Ethan grins, clearly enjoying teasing her. “Sure, sure. But just wait until the next big case. When he pulls you aside to give you a ‘confidential’ briefing, we’ll be here, dying of curiosity.”

y/n sighs, trying not to laugh as she adjusts the papers in front of her. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m still the intern, remember?”

Eliza raises her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what we’re talking about. We all saw the way Harry looked at you when he was complimenting you yesterday. Like... he actually noticed your contribution for once.”

At that, y/n’s face goes a little redder, but she can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. “He just—well, he just doesn’t say much. When he does, it’s kind of a big deal.”

Ethan chuckles, leaning in closer. “Yeah, we’ve noticed. Harry doesn’t exactly dish out compliments like candy. And if he says you’re doing good work? That’s... noteworthy.”

y/n laughs nervously, feeling a little overwhelmed by their teasing, but she’s also secretly flattered. She’s always admired Harry—his skill, his mind, the way he commands respect from everyone around him—and to hear that they’ve noticed the shift in his behavior, even in the smallest ways, makes her feel like she’s on the right track.

“Alright, alright, enough. You’ve got me all figured out,” y/n says, trying to play it off cool. “But don’t go getting any ideas. He’s still Harry Styles.”

“Sure, sure,” Eliza says, winking. “But we’ll be keeping an eye on you two.”

As they walk away, leaving her to her work, y/n smiles to herself, a warm feeling spreading in her chest. She wasn’t sure if Harry really had a soft spot for her, but just knowing that she’d earned a little of his respect—enough for the team to notice—felt like a win. Maybe she wasn’t just the intern anymore. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to become something more.

______________________________________________

y/n has been busy lately. She passed her detective training exam but the theory exam wasn’t over yet, so she was preparing for that, along with managing the work she had been assigned at the FBI. It’s nearly midnight when Harry walks into the office, his eyes scanning the darkened room before landing on Y/N. He spots her hunched over her desk, staring at the screen, her tired eyes squinting in the dim light. By now he knows she’s a hard worker, but what really hits him is how late it’s gotten—and how she hasn’t stopped working.

Harry’s voice is tight with concern, trying to mask his frustration."Y/N, what the hell are you still doing here?"

Y/N looks up, startled, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard as she blinks at him, trying to hide the exhaustion on her face.

"Just finishing up some things... It’s not that late."

He sternly walks closer. "It’s midnight. You should be home, resting. This can wait until tomorrow."

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look on his face stops her. She’s used to his seriousness, but there’s something more here—something that’s not just about the case.

His voice softens, but still firm."You’re not invincible, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself."

Y/N sighs, glancing back at the stack of files on her desk, torn between wanting to finish everything and knowing she’s pushing herself too hard.

"I’m fine, Harry. Really. I just want to get this done."

Harry’s frustration slips through as he says, "No, you’re not fine. You’ve been at this for hours, and you’re running on empty. I’m not leaving until you get some rest."

Y/N meets his eyes, seeing the genuine concern there, but also the subtle edge of worry in his features. She opens her mouth to protest again, but Harry doesn’t give her the chance.

Harry grabs her bag from the desk. "Come on. You’re getting in the car, and I’m taking you home."

She hesitates for a moment, but Harry’s serious enough that she knows there’s no point in arguing.

She grabs her things and follows him out of the office. The rain is coming down hard now, the city streets glistening under the dim streetlights. Harry opens the door for her, holding out an umbrella as they step out into the downpour.

They don’t speak at first, the quiet of the night surrounding them, just the soft patter of rain as they walk to his car. Once inside, the silence between them feels comfortable, but Harry keeps glancing at her, concern still etched on his face.

Harry breaks the silence."You sure you’re okay? You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately."

“I’m fine, my detective exam is soon, I just really wanna make it.”

“You will, you’ve already passed the physical. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about making it, the exam’s gonna be very easy for you.”

She lets out a soft exhale, those words making her feel a little better. After all, he had gone through all of this. “Are you gonna apply to work here?”

“Yes, I think this is where I wanna work. Not sure about the department though, I still have other rotations. I’m going to be with foreign affairs next week.”

Harry gasps in hurt, glancing over at her. “You don’t wanna be in homicide? Is it because I’m grumpy?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s not you, Harry.. And I love homicide, the thrill is amazing! It’s just that I still have other departments to experience, you know, that’s what an internship is for.”

“Believe me, you aren’t gonna find any other department as interesting as this. But yes, you’re right. You have time to decide.”

The rest of the drive is mostly quiet, just the sound of the rain tapping on the windshield. When they finally reach her flat, Harry pulls up to the curb, parking the car in front of the building. He looks over at her, his voice quiet, with that same concern in it.

"You sure you’ll be okay getting inside? It’s late, and it’s still raining pretty bad."

Y/N nods, though she can’t hide the weariness in her eyes."Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride, Harry."

He doesn’t move, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something more, but instead, he opens his door and steps out, walking around the car to open hers.

He holds the umbrella over her as they step out into the rain, his arm wrapping around her back and her arm as he keeps her close and they walk side by side toward her building. The air is cool, and the rain falls steadily, but there’s something about the closeness of the moment that makes it feel almost intimate.

When they reach her door, Harry stops, looking at her with that same quiet intensity. "You’re getting some sleep tonight. No excuses."

Y/N can’t help but smile at his persistence, the kind of care that’s always just under the surface of his gruff exterior."I promise. I’ll get some rest."

Harry doesn’t move immediately, his gaze lingering on her face. There’s an almost unspoken weight in the air now, a subtle shift between them. Without thinking, Y/N reaches out and touches his arm, her fingers brushing against his sleeve.

“Thanks for everything, Harry. Really."

His eyes flicker down to where her hand rests on his arm, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. Slowly, he lifts his free hand, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingers for a second longer than necessary, and Y/N feels her heart race at the intimacy of it.

His voice is low, and a bit hoarse."Anytime. You don’t have to thank me."

The tension between them lingers in the rain-soaked air. Harry steps back, holding the umbrella just a little closer to her to shield her from the downpour. Then he whispers softly, "Sleep well, Y/N."

He gives her a soft smile before turning to leave. Y/N watches him walk away, her heart still fluttering from the small but meaningful moments they’ve shared. The rain still falls, but in that quiet moment, everything feels a little different—like they’ve crossed a line, even if just for a moment.

As she walks into her apartment, she can’t help but replay his words and the feeling of his touch, knowing that whatever happens next, something between them has changed.

_____________________________________________

Y/N enters the quarters, the soft click of the door barely audible as she steps inside. The usual hum of chatter and playful teasing is absent, replaced by an air of tension that hangs thick in the room. Her eyes quickly scan the group of agents—none of them in their usual good-natured moods, all absorbed in their own thoughts. Something’s off.

Her gaze lands on Harry, talking quietly with someone behind his glass office door. He looks serious, his posture rigid, eyes narrowed as if he’s deep in conversation about something important. Y/N walks to Nora who’s sitting at her desk, the usual casual grin replaced by a solemn expression.

"Hey, what’s going on? Why’s everyone so serious today?"

The agent looks up. "We got a lead on the Rotherl case. Word is, he has a fourth hostage with him. Cole and Eliza managed to track down where he should be right now and we’re just waiting on Harry’s word to go.”

“A fourth hostage?”, she gasps. She wasn’t part of the team during the investigation of the Rothel murders but she had read up all about it. He was one of the most wanted men, who kidnapped his victims before killing them. He had already killed three innocent people, leaving no traces behind him. If they had a lead on him, that was amazing.

She glances toward Harry’s office, where he’s still deep in conversation, his jaw clenched. Before she can ask more, the door opens, and Harry steps out, his sharp gaze scanning the room. “Let’s go, everyone. I’ve called for backup. Matthews, Carter, good job. Now let’s wrap this up.”

“This mother fucker has had enough of a run.”, Eliza mutters, strapping on her bullet proof west and tossing the other to her partner.

Y/N’s been with the team for weeks now, and in that time, Harry’s allowed her to tag along when things got tense, letting her learn the ropes. She can’t imagine being left behind on something so big, not now.

She grabs her things, ready to move with the team, but Harry catches her before she gets too far, his lean fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Not this time, Y/N.", he says, his voice firm, with no room for negotiation.

Y/N freezes, her heart sinking at his words. She’s about to protest, but she catches the look in his eyes—a mix of concern and something else she can’t quite place. She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Come on, Harry. I’ve been with you through worse. You know I can handle it."

“It’s not about how much you can handle, y/n. This is a mad man, and you don’t even have a gun to defend yourself.”

“But I’m trained to fight, and I can use a gun if someone throws it to me-”

“-y/l/n.”, Harry cuts her off with his classic stern face. She hasn’t gotten her gun license yet, she’ll get that only after she becomes an agent after her exams, but she’s already done with all her training. He’s trying to protect her, she realizes. Still, she won’t back down so easily.

"You can’t keep me in the dark. I want to be there with you guys.”, she says firmly.

Harry stares at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers as if weighing the risk. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

He reluctantly agrees. "Fine. You can come. But you stay in the car. Understood?"

Y/N’s heart skips, but she hides her smile, knowing she’s won this small battle. She nods, her voice determined.

"Understood.”

Harry studies her for a moment longer, as if trying to gauge if she’s really going to stick to her word. When he finally nods, there’s something like relief in his eyes, mixed with the ever-present worry that seems to linger with him.

"Good. But if you step one foot out of that car, I swear I’ll drag your ass back inside myself.”

Y/N chuckles lightly, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of something unspoken. “Got it, sir.”

As Harry turns to lead the team out, Y/N follows behind, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling inside her. This was more than just another case. It was a dangerous one, and she was in it, even if only on the sidelines.

“Here, y/n, put this on.”, Ethan comes to her with a bullet proof vest just like everyone else’s. She didn’t think she’d need one sitting in the car, but she put it on, not wanting to start another argument with an agent.

They pile into the cars, the tension in the air thick as they head toward the high-risk location. Y/N’s fingers tap nervously on her lap as she watches Harry in the rearview mirror, his eyes already set on the mission ahead, and she can’t help but feel, even in the midst of everything, that tonight could change something between them.

The car rolled to a stop a few blocks from the dilapidated building. The air outside felt damp from the rain that had just stopped falling, but the tension was thick, and the city streets seemed unusually silent, despite the flashing lights of squad cars surrounding the area.

Y/N leaned forward in the passenger seat, her eyes glued to the building in front of them. The usual lighthearted banter between the team was gone.She could see Harry’s figure through the windshield as he stepped out of the car, his dark coat flaring behind him like a shadow as he walked toward the rest of the team.

She saw the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his body was braced for the weight of what they were about to face. His focus was sharper tonight, sharper than usual. He was already in the thick of it, mentally preparing for what could be a deadly confrontation.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the seat, but she stayed silent. Harry moved with precision, the rest of the team falling in behind him as they gathered around him. The air between them was charged, the kind of energy that only came when everything was on the line.

She heard Harry’s calm voice through his earpiece, “Position yourselves around the building. No one moves unless I give the word.”

Y/N nodded along with the rest of the team, even though Harry couldn’t see it. Her heart hammered in her chest as her gaze shifted from Harry to the building—dark and looming against the city skyline. She could barely make out the figure standing in the doorway.

It was Rothel. The man who had committed violent crimes. And now, he was holding someone else hostage.

Y/N exhaled slowly, gripping the seat tighter. The girl in the doorway, only a teenager by the looks of it, was standing frozen in place, her face pale with fear. Rothel had a gun to her forehead, and she heard him yell out something, but couldn’t make out what it was. Harry raised a hand to the rest of the team, signalling them to hold off.

She could hear Harry. “Rothel, listen to me. Let her go. We don’t need any more bloodshed. Just put the gun down.”

She couldn’t see Harry’s face from the car, but Y/N knew how carefully he must have been approaching the situation. His voice never cracked, but there was an undercurrent of urgency there—just enough to show he was trying to negotiate without pushing Rothel over the edge.

The earpiece crackled with static, and then Rothel’s voice, sharp and filled with fury, came through.

Rothel growled. “I don’t want to hear your deals. If you don’t back the fuck off, I’ll shoot her right here.”

Y/N’s hands went ice-cold. The air in the car felt thick, suffocating. She swallowed hard, wishing there was something she could do, some way she could help, but all she could do was watch—wait—and pray that Harry could talk him down.

Harry’s voice came again, steady and unwavering.

“You don’t want to do this, Rothel. Let her go. We can work something out. Just... put the gun down. It’s not too late.”

Y/N’s eyes were fixed on the building as the tension in the air grew heavier. There was a shift, a subtle movement at one of the upper windows. She squinted, her heart dropping as she realized the figure there wasn’t just an observer—he was armed, and his sights were set on Harry.

Her breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she saw the man preparing to act. Without thinking twice, Y/N grabbed her earpiece, trying to warn the others, but there was no time for that. The danger was too immediate.

She threw open the car door, barely pausing before sprinting toward the building. Every step was fueled by a sense of urgency, her mind racing. She couldn’t let him hurt Harry.

Y/N reached the back of the building and found a staircase leading up. She didn’t hesitate as she ascended quickly, her heart thumping in her chest. At the top, she paused, ears straining for any sound—anything that would give away the shooter’s position.

There, at the far end of the hallway, the man stood, oblivious to Y/N’s approach. She didn’t think, she just moved. Silent and quick, she rushed toward him, tackling him off balance. They hit the ground, but the struggle wasn’t over.

“Move out of my way unless you want me to kill you, bitch.”, he growled.

“Oh you can try.”, she growled back.

The man pushed back, trying to regain his footing, but Y/N used every ounce of her strength to keep him down. He fought back, his hands grabbing at her, but she was faster—more determined.

In the chaos, she was struck hard, sending her crashing into the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the growing pain. She couldn’t let him get to Harry. He needed to save that girl.

She heard gun shots from below and something that sounded like a cry of relief from the hostage, then she heard Harry’s voice through her fallen earpiece. “He’s down, great job team.” She made the mistake of letting her guard down for one second, in relief, and that’s when the man managed to rise to his feet and point the gun at her.

She heard Harry’s voice again, through her earpiece, now panicked. “Y/N, where are you? Answer me.”

Her vision swam from the dizziness, but she forced herself to focus. The man looked down and groaned in frustration. y/n laughed. “Guess your little plan didn’t work out, huh?”

“It was a good plan, now it’s all ruined because of you. Did you think I was joking when I said I’d kill you?”

“Y/N?”, she heard footsteps and Harry’s voice.

“Harry!”, she called back, panic starting to rise in her chest. The gun was pointed at her, so she couldn’t risk moving.

Harry points his own gun at the man. “Put it down right now, you sick bastard.”

y/n closed her eyes as she heard two shots fire at the same time. Then she heard a big thud. Suddenly, there was pain shooting through her body. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else—disbelief, confusion, and the shock of what had just happened.

She had been shot.

She was brought back from her dazed state by Harry’s panicked, almost broken, voice, “Y/N, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay..don’t worry, o-okay?”

She could hear the crack in his voice, the fear that only came when someone was truly scared of losing someone they cared about. Her heart fluttered weakly in her chest at the realization. Her thoughts weren’t on the blood soaking her arm or the pain threatening to consume her. They were on Harry. He was here. He was with her. And as she fought to keep her eyes open, the last thing she heard was him calling her name, desperately holding onto her in the chaos of it all.

____________________________________________

Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise@hermionelove @mayalove014 @vikiii07

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doromoni · 2 days ago

Text

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Smau

A/N : hi~ its been a while my luvsss! Hope you enjoy hihi

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 18 | Next >

Y/N. 45mins ago

story replies

oscarpiastri Thank you dearest! Ily

Y/N. ily too! are you free to go to the hotel now?

oscarpiastri Not yet, baby. I still need to do post race interviews and I'm assuming that McLaren will bite my ass for the race.

Y/N. Ah damn, I wish i could commit arson in your motorhome rn hbcalfbsa

oscarpiastri Lmao I'll beat you to it.

Y/N. Should I wait for you?

oscarpiastri No need luv, I'll see you in our room

Y/N. Alright Osc~ call me if you need anything.

oscarpiastri Ik luv, keep safe alright?

L.norris Aren't you and your rebound fucking happy.

L.norris I know Max and Charles planned everything to screw my drive. I bet it was your idea.

L.norris I'll make oscar's stay in Mclaren hell than it already is.

Y/N. P1-P6 in turn one amazing drive and really?? a dummy account?? how desperate can you be? Ella not enough for you?

L.norris I swear Y/n.

skysports LIVE

mclaren

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

mclaren P2astri! monstrous effort by @oscarpiastri. P17 to P2 — that’s our driver!

oscarpiastri Lol.

danielricciardo Yeah Lol

user1 Bruhs literally said Lol.

user2 Oh, hi danny ric. Can I ask you a question? what's up with Mclaren screwing their aussie drivers??

user1 Not Mclaren tryna play nice after the team orders. Cuz wth was that???

user3 Sweep it under the rug ahh move from them.

user2 I stand by what i’ve said about Oscar should try to fit in the team before but damn after what they tried to pull today?? Oscar’s reaction is valid

user3 Imagine admin posting this after Mclaren tried to f up Oscar’s race… the audacity of this team is amqzing.

user4 I could see Lando fuming right now 😮‍💨

user5 Mate of course he is! Did you hear the radio? Lando wanted to take both his and oscar's cars out

user6 Lando has always been a sore loser. But today was smth else -- a crybaby in the radio damn.

user7 imagine if McLaren actually showed support towards Oscar? Blud might even be fighting Max on the WDC rn

user8 WE WILL NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU DID TO OSC IN QUALIFYING

user9 and we will NEVER forgive you Mclaren!!

user10 Oscar only continuous to amaze us as a driver. That level of focus on maturity on track was masterclass.

Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*

Notification : Zak Brown sent you a voice message*

-Pick up the damn phone Oscar! or I swear you'll be driving nothing next week!! -

Incoming call from Mark Webber

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

-Hello? What is it Mark?-

-Get your ass inside the motorhome. NOW-

-Calm down, I'm on my way. I just finished my bloody interviews-

-Heads up, everyone is fuming. You made them look like clowns today Osc... I have no idea what consequences they've planned for you-

-Whatever, i'm sick and tired of them-

-You don't get it Osc... this is serious. RedBull and Ferrari contacted me and they've said Zak is pulling some strings to keep you inside McLaren. They might withdraw their offer-

-shit, what???-

-Exactly, so get your ass here NOW. -

call has been disconnected

Formula1 news

MCLAREN DRIVER FEUD! The arguments between the 2 McLaren drivers have turned physical!

Not long after the race and interviews, it was said that a fight had started inside the McLaren Motorhome.

Sources had stated that Lando Norris had confronted Oscar Piastri for not following team orders given previously. Both drivers seemed to be talking till it started to escalate when Oscar tried to leave.

Physicalities had started when Lando had struck the Australian in the face— initiating Oscar to fight back. The fight had been stopped with Lando Norris being escorted with a broken and bleeding nose and Oscar with a bruised cheek.

oscarpiastri 3 mins

story replies

danielricciardo Mate! how did you get that?!

oscarpiastri Lando was a sore loser and punched me after interviews

danielricciardo Damn, tell me he’s got it worse?

oscarpiastri yeah, I broke his nose. danielricciardo Nice. does Y/N know?

oscarpiastri not yet.

danielricciardo oh she’s not gonna like that

oscarpiastri I mean i didnt start it

logansargeant WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?

oscarpiastri Calm down, Logan its just a bruise.

logansargeant so the rumors where real? you and lando got into a fight?

oscarpiastri blud couldn’t accept that I won.

logansargeant Cool. But i’m sure Mclaren isnt happy with this.

oscarpiastri is that even a surprise

logansargeant Hey, they might fire you and I could have your seat then

oscarpiastri Yeahhh screw you. You already signed the contract with Indycar

logansargeant heck yeah I did!

charles_leclerc Oi I let you out my sight for a few hours and this happens??

oscarpiastri you know you're playing this father thing a lil too real.

charles_leclerc Ik, deal with it! Anyways so the fight was true

oscarpiastri How did you know?

charles_leclerc carlos was on call with Lando and I overheard. You hit Lando out of no where?

oscarpiastri WHAT? NO. He punched me first. Where did you get that?

charles_leclerc Carlos told me that Lando said that to him… that you were the one who punched him in the nose.

oscarpiastri wtf? Nah… he’s twisting the story again. Classic

charles_leclerc I knew it!

*Hilton Hotel

-Y/N? luv are you here?-

-Yeah, i’m on the bed-

-Did you watch the race?-

-I did! P2 my luv congratu— what the fuck happened to your cheek?!-

-Lando punched me after the interview. Nothing big-

-Nothing big?! are you kidding me? Oscar half your face is swollen! -

-And his nose is broken, whats the big deal?! I’m fine aren’t I?-

-You broke Lando’s nose?! Oscar what the hell! You hit him back?! -

-Of course I did! What?! should i just let him have at me? What the fuck is that question Y/N??-

-Oscar! you actually fought physically. This is different! this is not online or on the tracks! you can’t just start throwing fists like cavemen!-

-Different how?! Y/N, Lando struck first and I hit back. I’m was defending myself! Why am I even explaining this to you?! Aren’t you on my side?! -

-Of course I am Osc! I am always on your side!-

-Then show it! Y/N! because what it looks to me is that you think is that I should’ve just let him beat me over! -

-Of course not! but you know that everyone will use this against you.-

-So?-

-So?? what do you mean so?! You could be in trouble with the FIA. Red Bull and Ferrari might withdraw their offer for you if this blows up! Oscar your career is already hanging on by a thread! How could you let them hold more things against you? -

-You think I dont know that?! HUH, Y/N?! Not a fucking day goes by without me thinking whether if I’ll have my job the next day! So don’t fucking preach to me what I should be thinking or be feeling! You know that everything about this started with you right?? because I chose to fight for our relationship?? -

-Oscar, I know that! Don’t you think I don’t feel guilty or hurt seeing you suffer because of me? because of us?! I’ve been dealing with some shit too! and do you see me throwing fists around?!!-

-And now it’s all about you. You know what Y/N? Yeah… you don’t fight No. You just wait for them to cheat on you before you see the years of abuse. Well tough luck Y/N, i’m not like you! I don’t cower away when its Lando. -

-WOW! just fucking wow, Oscar!! how nice to pull that shit up. You fucking know how I feel about what Lando did to me!-

-You know what?! I can’t do this right now. I need air. FUCK!-

Notification : you received a message from **** *** ***

*Hello ms. Y/N, this is Emery James, McLaren's Lawyer. I am reaching out on behalf of McLaren to offer you a proposition that will benefit all . Your presence is requested urgently. please contact us at your earliest discretion. Thank you*

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

extra A/N: Only a few more chapters for this series my luvs! I'm so glad yet sad that this smau is coming to an end huhu

alsooooo recently i've been obsessing over football! any Madridistas here hihi? Imma shamelessly plug my playlist for Jude here~ enjoy hskhdbvks

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

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wosospacegirl · 1 day ago

Text

I don’t even like boys - Arsenal teen! r

Summary: Reader has sex with a boy because she is confused about her sexuality but ends up having a pregnancy scare. Leah and Katie comfort her through it.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Talks of teenage pregnancy (but she’s not pregnant!!) a little bit of good luck, baby vibes?

Masterlist here

This was based on a request! Hope you guys enjoy it.

The Health check day at Arsenal was awkward. The team was split into groups of three, each assigned to a general practitioner, a physiotherapist, and a gynaecologist. All the girls had to be examined by all three before returning to training, as per house rules, Y/n guessed.

Y/n, Leah, Katie, and Kyra, sat bored in the gynaecologist’s waiting room. Leah tapped her foot in frustration. “This is ridiculous. We could be training at the gym instead of waiting here,” the blonde muttered.

“You say that every season,” Katie said, rolling her eyes. The Irish woman had a small rubber ball, which she kept bouncing back and forth against the wall.

“Yeah, because every season we lose at least two hours here just so we can go inside and answer the same questions Dr. Smith always asks,” Leah grumbled. “I know she is old and all that, but she always asks me if there is a chance I could be pregnant!” The captain continued, looking at the door as if making sure Dr. Smith wouldn’t hear her.

“I’ve told her I’m just into women like twelve times already,” Leah complained.

Leah wasn’t the chattiest person around, but mate —she could talk when she was annoyed at something.

“Don’t give the woman a hard time,” Kyra said, smiling at Leah. “It’s bureaucracy, they must keep records and stuff like that. Plus, you can’t just expect Dr. Smith to remember everybody’s sexuality. Not everyone in the team is gay.”

“The kid’s right for once,” Katie agreed.

“For once?” Kyra asked, noticing the teasing. “Shut up, McCabe.”

“You might have a point, Kyra,” Leah said, turning slightly to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word since the groups arrived at the waiting room. “Why are you so quiet, Y/n?”

“Maybe because I have nothing to say?” Y/n answered sharply, rolling her eyes.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Katie said.

“Shut up,” Y/n mumbled.

“Ouch!” The young girl exclaimed as she felt Leah pinching her arm. “Why would you do that?” Y/n snapped, looking at the captain and then at the sore skin on her arm.

“Don’t be rude,” Leah warned firmly using her captain's voice.

“I’m not being rude; you guys are just annoying to be around!”

“You guys? I haven’t done anything to you?” Kyra defended herself, a pout on her face.

Y/n hadn’t been in a mood when she woke up, but her day took a turn for worse when she received a notification on her phone from her period-tracking app.

Your period is a week late

She hadn’t realized it, being too caught up with training and school to notice how her menstrual cycle was irregular. Y/n wouldn’t have to worry about it if she had stuck to her rule —not having sex with boys — but it just happened.

Y/n wasn’t sure about her sexuality yet, but she knew she liked girls more than boys. Until last month, she had never kept any type of physical intimacy with a boy before, but it all changed when she met this nice boy from her school. He was a year old and just very kind to her.

The girl wouldn’t say she was attractive to him or anything, she actually didn’t want to have sex because she was horny, or any other reason teenagers normally have sex.

She just wanted to see if she would enjoy herself or not. If she was able to like boys or just girls.

Y/n was curious.

One thing led to another and when Y/n realized she and Chris had sex with the during a very cold Saturday afternoon. After they finished, well, he finished, Y/n put on her shirt and underwear, staring at the boy sleeping in her bed.

It felt wrong.

Not because he was rude to her or bad at sex, but because he just… wasn’t a girl.

“Hey, Chris,” Y/n poked the sleeping boy. “Mate, wake up.”

“Hm?” the boy mumbled, slightly opening her eyes. “What? Is it morning already?”

“What? No, of course not, it’s been just15 minutes since we—”

“Had sex?” The boy finished her sentence, a smirk displayed on his face.

“Well—Yeah! That’s why I need you to leave,” Y/n could see the smirk disappearing from the boy’s face, disappointment settling in.

“Leave? Like… back to my house?”

“Exactly.” Y/n left the bed, looking for her pants on the floor. Where were they? She could swear she had put it on her desk chair.

As Y/n looked around, she felt Chris’s eyes on her body. She didn’t like it.

“Did I do something wrong?” Chris finally asked, sitting straight on the bed, back against the headboard. “It was my first time too, but I hope I didn’t hurt you or anything.”

Y/n’s face soften. Maybe she was being a bit rude.

“No, Chris, it was alright, I just—I don’t think I really like…boys.” Y/n confessed, finally finding her pants under her bed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah mate, I’m sorry.”

Chris left the bed and began looking for his clothes, while Y/n stood there awkwardly. She shouldn’t feel awkward in her own house. When Chris was dressed and ready to go, Y/n led him to the front door.

“This could stay between us, right?” Y/n asked softly as she opened the door to the boy, the cold winter breeze meeting her face. She was just now realizing that Chris could very much tell anyone what they did.

Even the Media.

“I—I can’t have people knowing about this… the team and the contract—” Y/n continued.

Chris gave her a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Y/n. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

After a clumsy goodbye, Chris left, and Y/n was finally alone again. She desperately needed a shower.

And that’s how Y/n realized she was going through a pregnancy scare.

Y/n didn’t feel different, she hadn’t had any weird cravings. She hasn’t gained or lost any weight. Surely, she wasn’t pregnant. She wasn’t on any birth control, but she had made sure Chris was wearing a condom.

They were both a bit clumsy, but they had remembered to check if the condom had a hole or not before Chris threw it away. At least they’d done one thing right.

So yeah, Y/n didn’t know why she was so nervous. She didn’t have any reason to be. She followed the Sex Education’s rules to the letter… but, what if something had gone wrong? Was she even ovulating that day? She couldn’t be sure.

Y/n began biting her nails. Her teammates could sense Y/n’s tension, but they didn’t want to make the younger girl angrier than she already was — although they were all very curious about the reason for her foul mood.

After what felt like centuries, Alessia appeared in the waiting room, having just left the gynaecologist’s office. The blonde exchanged a few words with the other girls before leaving. Now Y/n just had to wait — Dr. Smith would call one of them soon.

Within minutes, the girls heard Dr. Smith’s voice through the door. “Next!” The old lady called.

Y/n probably got up too quickly from her chair, because Leah, Katie and Kyra looked at her like she was crazy. “I’ve never seen you so excited to go see Dr. Smith before,” Kyra said.

“You almost took the chair with you,” Katie added suspiciously.

“I—I just want to be one of the firsts! The last time we had check-up day, I was the last one to go,” Y/n said defensively, taking small steps towards the office.

“You were the last one because you were terrified of going to the gynaecologist,” Leah said, raising an eyebrow. “I literally had to go in with you. “

Did the older girls really need to remember everything all the time?

“I’m just a changed woman now,” Y/n sighed. “You all might see me as some kid, but I’m almost 18 —things change.” The defensiveness in Y/n voice was unmatched, so Leah just let her go without pressing any further

“Something happened to her.”

That was the last thing Y/n could hear before entering Dr. Smith’s office.

After completing the physical part of the exam, Dr. Smith sat across from Y/n at her desk, her notebook open on Y/n’s medical files. Y/n couldn’t pay attention to what the old woman was typing —she was too distracted by the sight in front of her: a replica of a uterus with a baby inside.

“Darling, I’m just going to go through the same questions as always, okay,” Dr. Smith said with a smile.

Y/n answered all the questions honestly. Yes, she had bad period cramps. No, she didn’t have migraines. Yes, it bothered her to play during her period. No, the training didn’t make the cramps go worse.

Everything was fine until Dr. Smith asked:

“During your last check, up you said you weren’t sexually active, right? How about now?”

Y/n blushed, staring at the doctor in front of her. Did she really have to go through this just to play professional football?

“Hm—So about that—yes,” Y/n fumbled over her words. She scratched the back of her head nervously.

Dr. Smith remained silent, waiting for Y/n to continue, but the young girl clamped her mouth shut, looking at the walls instead.

“Yes what, darling?” asked Dr. Smith. “This is a private space; you don’t need to be embarrassed.”

Private space? As if! Y/n thought, Dr. Smith had her whole hormonal history — and now sex life — written up in her file.

“I’ve had had sex since the last time we talked.” Y/n explained, no emotions on her face. She just needed to be direct.

“Would you be okay telling me if it was with a boy or a girl?” The poor woman was really trying to get Y/n to open up— Y/n had to give her that.

“Hm—” Y/n bit her nails. “Two months ago, I was with this girl. She was my first. And then last month, I had sex with this guy, but it was only once,” Y/n explained.

“So, you’ve had two sexual partners, correct?”

“Yes, but the girl was the only one who I slept with more than once.” Y/n was going to die of embarrassment, — she was sure of it.

“Alright darling, had you had any STI test after then?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Great! That’s great. What about your period? Have you noticed any changes in your cycle after having intercourse?” Dr. Smith questioned.

Y/n stared at the women. She had to tell her.

“Well, about that,” Y/n laughed nervously. “My period is kind of late, but it’s probably nothing, right? We used condoms, and not throwing up or anything, I just have to wait, don’t I?”

For a moment, all they could hear in the office were Y/n trainers tapping the floor.

“How late are you, Y/n?” Dr. Smith asked, a frown on her face.

“A week.”

“Hm,” Dr. Smith mumbled before getting up from her chair and opening a white cabinet. The older woman held a box with a baby printed on it and handed it to Y/n

Y/n started at the pregnancy test, not wanting to take it.

“We’ll have you doing this test, okay? Just go to the bathroom and pee on it. It will take 3 to 5 minutes to get the results.”

Y/n said nothing.

“You need to do it, Y/n, I know you are scared, but we can’t be sure why your period is late if you don’t take.”

Y/n took the pregnancy test, tears in her eyes.

Before Dr. Smith could say anything, Y/n was already bolting through the office door, straight to the bathroom. She heard Leah and Katie behind her. The older women were calling for her, asking what had happened, but Y/n didn’t look back.

When she got to the bathroom, she locked herself in one of the stalls, it wasn’t long before she heard the door open. Before Leah or Katie could say anything, Y/n was already crying.

Leah and Katie looked at each other, both very worried. They didn’t know what could have possibly happened back at the gynaecologist’s office, but they were sure it was bad by the way the young girl reacted.

“Hey babe, what’s wrong?” Leah asked softly. “Did something, why are you crying?”

“I’m an idiot,” Y/n answered, her hands shaking. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Katie and Leah shared an apprehensive look.

“And why do you say that kid? Leah questioned, trying to get the stall to open. “Come talk to us.”

Y/n was so distressed, she just wanted to get this test done over with.

“I—I had sex with this boy from my school,” Y/n confessed, tears running down her face. “I’m not even sure why, I know I don’t like boys, but I just wanted to be sure.”

“Okay, that okay, that’s completely normal,” Katie said. “It’s that why you are crying?”

Half the Arsenal team were lesbians. They’d been Y/n’s age once and knew how confusing it is to understand one’s sexuality.

“Did the boy do something to you, Y/n?” Leah asked, her voice angry. “If he did, we can find him and go to the police—”

“It’s not that,” Y/n said through tears. “My period is late, and Dr. Smith gave me a pregnancy test, but I’m just scared to take it.”

The bathroom was silent again.

“Did you use protection?” Leah asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Y/n answered through the door.

“Okay, so the odds are in your favor, yeah, kid? Go take the test, and when you’re done, we’ll be right here with you.” Leah said.

“I’m sure it’s going to be negative, babe, don’t worry, take the test, and then we’ll figure stuff out.” The Irish women added.

That’s what Y/n did. She followed the instructions written on the box and just waited. She could see Katie’s and Leah’s shadows through the door opening. Who would have thought that shadows could be comforting?

A minute passed. Then two. And then five.

Just one bright pink line.

Not pregnant.

Y/n yanked the stall door open and threw her arms around Leah and Katie, who weren’t expecting the sudden embrace. The girl felt like she could finally breathe again, her heart slowing doing as her chest relaxed against Leah and Katie’s embrace.

“I’m not fucking pregnant,” Y/n said, hugging the women tight. “I might start crying again.”

“See, we were right, nothing to worry about,” Leah patted Y/n’s back

“I told you, no drama.” Katie said playfully. “Pregnancy tests are overrated anyway.”

After Y/n calmed down, the three women went back to the waiting room. Y/n had to go back inside the gynaecologist office to tell Dr. Smith she wasn’t pregnant after all. After a few minutes, Dr. Smith let Y/n go and told advised her to use birth control or IUD is she wanted to feel more protected against any potential pregnancy.

“Oh Dr. Smith, don’t worry, now I know I don’t even like boys,” Y/n said before leaving the room.

#woso fanfic #woso x reader #arsenal fanfic #arsenal women #woso appreciation #women soccer #women's football #woso community #woso

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suguslve · 2 days ago

Text

thinking about loser (perv) idia .ᐟ

♰ pairings. idia shroud x shy fem! reader

♰ warnings. suggestive content. loser! idia at first but then he becomes a pervert (yum). noncon (?). pantie sniffing and stealing. stalking. uhhh idk what else. mdni

♰ word count. 1.5k

♰ a/n. i was on idia brainrot these past few weeks and decided to whip a lil something up ;) enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

— loser! idia who kept his head down, ignoring everyone, why does crowley need ALL housewardens to attend to a stupid meeting in the first place? he was busy uttering curses in his mind when your sweet voice broke the ruckus. his head snapped up just slightly, just enough to steal a glance at you. w-wait were you stuttering?! and you weren’t just stuttering—you were anxiously fidgeting with your hands too!! are you nervous because of the meeting? because of someone? or—wait—what if you’re nervous because you hate crowds too?! oh god, did he just find a fellow social avoidance expert??

— loser! idia who actually wanted to approach and talk to you, but obviously he’s a coward. yeah, nope, definitely NOT happening. he’d literally rather fight a final boss solo with no revives than approach you right now. and so, as the meeting adjourns, he quickly and quietly leaves the room (with his heart racing wildly and his face burning).

— loser! idia who desperately tried to avoid you at every turn—but it was like the universe had other plans. no matter where he tried to hide, there you were. his carefully scouted, ultra-secret, 1000% normie-free safe zones? infiltrated. by you. of all people. what kind of cruel RNG was this?! ugh, this was turning into a way bigger side quest than he signed up for. his usual gaming hideout behind the school? you were there, sitting on the steps, quietly reading. the abandoned hallway near the library? you showed up, looking just as startled to see him as he was to see you. EVEN THE ROOFTOP—his ultimate last resort—had somehow become your preferred quiet spot?! and the worst part is sometimes, he’d see you there… and instead of running, he’d hesitate. just for a second. because—ugh, he’d never say it out loud—but you weren’t loud like the other normies. you weren’t disruptive. you were just… there. quiet. fidgeting. existing in your own little world.

— loser! idia who finally gained the courage to approach you. oh but trust him, it wasn’t like he wanted to—he just… happened to be in the same spot as you (again), and instead of immediately running in the opposite direction like usual, he somehow convinced himself to stay. which, might have been a huge mistake because the second your eyes flickered up to meet his, his brain immediately started screaming. abort, abort, abort— but you’d already seen him. his escape route had been cut off. and he just stood there, shifting on his feet, pulling at the strings of his hoodie like it was a lifeline. his mouth opened. closed. opened again. say something, you coward!

— loser! idia who mumbled the weakest, most pathetic greeting ever known. “u-uh…yo?” his voice cracked, and he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole there on the spot. that was so cringe!! seriously?! ‘yo’?! what am i a generic background delinquent?! while he was having a crisis, you chuckled softly before greeting him in return. idia.exe has stopped working.

— loser! idia who didn’t know how this “friendship” between you even started. at first he avoided you like the plague and the next thing he knew, you two were hanging out like it was normal. at first, he figured you were just another shy person suffering through NRC, but the more you talked, the more he realized—wait, you actually get him?! you didn’t just tolerate his rants about games, anime, and how normies were a blight upon existence—you joined in. he slowly let his guard down around you. he didn’t even mean to, but you were just… easy to talk to. there were no expectations, no forced small talk, no annoying social pressure. if you two sat in silence, it wasn’t awkward. if you talked, it wasn’t exhausting. before he knew it, he was complaining about gacha rates and actually making jokes without wanting to crawl into a hole and die afterward.

— loser! idia who slowly fell for you and your little quirks. but hey! it’s not like you can blame him. you were stupidly cute in ways that made his heart do dumb things. you matched his energy—avoiding crowds, hiding from normies, nerding out over random things. you got excited about the smallest details, and somehow, somehow, you even made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the biggest loser in existence.

— loser! idia who slowly became possessive and obsessive over you. it started as just worry, okay?! totally normal levels of concern. but then his mind started spiraling—what if something bad happened to you and he wasn’t around?! NRC was a literal villain academy, full of shady, power-hungry weirdos, you can’t trust any of the students here—well, aside from him and ortho but that’s besides the point! you—with your big doe eyes and painfully sweet personality—were basically walking around with a giant “EASY TARGET” sign on your back. you can be easily taken advantage of!

— loser! idia who swore to be your protector. it wasn’t even a choice at this point—it was a necessity. so what if he wasn’t exactly the heroic, sword-wielding, normie-approved protector type? he had brains. he had strategy. and most importantly—he had a highly advanced AI-powered little brother who could do background checks on anyone who so much as looked at you funny. he might be a loser, but if he notices someone teasing or making you uncomfortable, he’ll reluctantly step in. “H-hey, back off, normie… uh, I mean, don’t be rude, or whatever…” then he drags you away like a panicked introvert escaping a social interaction.

— loser perv! idia who set up cameras all over ramshackle dorm to “keep an eye out on you.” it wasn’t stalking! no no, this was just preventative security measures! NRC was dangerous, okay?! a totally defenseless, magicless, too-trusting person like you? living alone in a rundown, ghost-infested dorm? that was basically asking for trouble. anyone with half a brain would’ve done the same! (right?)

— loser perv! idia who watches you 24/7 watching everything. the way you got ready for bed. the way you sighed and stretched when you thought no one was looking. the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder sometimes. and oh god, when you absentmindedly played with the hem of your skirt or chewed on the end of your pen? yeah. he was so beyond saving. okay so maybe he checked the cameras a little too often. maybe he kept the feed open on one of his monitors at all times. maybe he watched you even when there was no actual danger. but it’s not like he was doing anything weird! just… making sure you weren’t lonely!

— loser perv! idia who became utterly obsessed with you. he’d watch you from afar, his eyes tracing every movement, every smile. his room was filled with pictures of you, some taken without your knowledge. his obsession grew darker, more twisted. his obsession became all-consuming. he hacked into your social media accounts, reading your private messages and learning more about you than you ever intended to share. he’d watch you through hidden cameras he installed in your room, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction as he invaded your privacy.

— loser perv! idia who snuck into your dorm one night as you were asleep. he watched you for hours, his heart racing with excitement and fear. oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel your skin against his. but he knew he couldn’t risk waking you up. instead, he roamed your room. touching your things, smelling the perfume you use, looking at the plushies you kept, but it wasn’t enough, so he made his way to your bathroom and went through all your dirty clothing. sniffing the clothes you wore, rummaging for ages until he found it. your soiled panties. he took them all, moaning as he smelt your scent on them. god he can feel himself growing hard right now. he took your underwear and kept them all on the pocket of his hoodie. but before he left he made sure to give you one look, and well maybe a peck on your cheek, but it’s not like you’d find out, right?

— loser perv! idia who rushed to his dorm room and locked it to make sure no one would disturb him.

— loser perv! idia who watched various amounts of hentai that night, imagining it was you writhing and moaning under him. he pulled off his sweats and boxers and let his cock free. he hissed as the cold air hit his cock—then, he pulled your panties from where he had kept them. one hand sniffing it, and the other jerking himself off. he was so close, he could feel it, and so he took your underwear and jerked himself with it. oh fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore.

— loser perv! idia who couldn’t help himself from moaning your name over, and over until he came hard. his mind filled with dirty thoughts of defiling your innocence. god, he can’t wait to ruin you. he jerked himself faster, and faster until he came. his fluids soiling your panties. his breathing was labored, cheeks flushed. ah shit, this wasn’t gonna cut it, he needed more.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 suguslve writes #sugu blurbs 🪽#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst idia #idia x reader smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #idia smut

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chancloud8 · 3 days ago

Text

Picture Perfect

Part 1 * Part 2

Pairing: jeongin x reader

Word count: 2,1k

Summary: when Jeongin has a proposition for you, who are you to turn him down? Tags: suggestive maybe, but its mostly setting the scene for the smut in part 2

a/n: Happy birthday to our beloved Innie!! This was supposed to be a one shot, but because I'm not finished yet I decided to upload it in 2 parts. Part 2 will be smut ;)

Everyone in the studio has been excited about Yang Jeongin's shoot today. It’s all anyone could talk about this week, you included. You’ve been a Stay for a while now and when the call came that you’ve been chosen as the intern to work with the head photographer on this particular shoot, you may have fangirled your little heart out.

When Jeongin walks into the studio this morning, looking sleepy and a little nervous, you expect to have to coax him out of his shell during the shoot. But boy were you wrong. As soon as he changes into his first outfit and the camera’s are turned on, it's like he transforms into a different man.

You know he’s used to the camera’s, that he knows how to work them, but you also know how he feels about his body. He’s always been careful with showing too much skin and even with the Hallucination performance now existing, you didn’t think he’d be this confident, this sexy. Not that he shouldn’t be. The man is an absolute vision, with and without clothes.

All through the photoshoot you can't keep your eyes off him. He's a work of art, perfectly sculptured with smooth skin and muscles in all the right places. It doesn't help that his eyes keep finding yours, holding your gaze, both through the lens of your camera as without it.

‘Is it just me or does he look at you like you’re his next meal?’ Yumi, one of the make-up artists whispers in your ear during the second outfit change.

‘I’m glad you’re seeing it too and I’m not going crazy,’ you mumble, looking through the photos you just shot.

‘You’ve been undressing him with your eyes as well, don’t pretend like you haven’t,’ Yumi teases. ‘But I don’t blame you, that man is fine.’

‘Don’t let your husband hear you say that,’ you laugh. ‘But yes he is, look at this.’ You show her a picture where Jeongin leans back in the chair he’s sitting on, his abs on display as he has an arm thrown over his head while he looks right into your camera.

Yumi whistles through her teeth. ‘It’s like he’s looking right into my soul, damn girl, this is good stuff. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.’

‘You have a husband, babe,’ you repeat. ‘Besides, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t sleep around.’

Your eyes meet Jeongin’s then from across the room and the way he smirks at you almost feels like he heard what you just said.

During the next break you make your way to the snack table and grab a handful of grapes. You need something sweet to silence the beast inside you and usually food can do the job almost just as well as sex.

You grab some grapes and pop them in your mouth, already eying the chocolate on the other side of the table. The flavour of a perfectly sweet grape hits your tongue then and you hum in surprise, immediately reaching out to take some more. Wow, these are good.

Someone chuckles next to you and with flushed cheeks you look up to see Jeongin looking down at you. He has the same look in his eyes as before and his lips are tipped up in a grin.

Up close he's even more beautiful than through your camera.

'I, uhm, can recommend the grapes,' you stammer dumbly, not knowing what else to say. You quickly pop some more grapes into your mouth so you won't have to talk for a moment.

'I have a proposition for you,' Jeongin whispers into your ear as he leans close to you to grab an apple from the bowl on your other side.

You nearly choke on the remaining grapes in your mouth and start coughing loudly.

What did he just say?

A proposition?

What the fuck does that mean?

Jeongin looks at you with both concern and amusement as you continue to cough, but then he reaches for a bottle of water and unscrews the cap before giving it to you. One of his hands comes up to rub your back and you look up at him with teary eyes, before taking a sip.

'Thanks,' you say, clearing your throat. 'I don't think I heard that correctly.'

'You did,' Jeongin smiles and he looks around to see if anyone is in hearing distance before he leans in close again. 'And the next time you look at me with tears in your eyes will be when you're choking on my cock.'

Your mouth falls open at his words and you nearly drop the bottle of water in your hands.

'I--what?'

Jeongin just shrugs, giving you a cheeky grin before his eyes travel up and down your body.

'You can say no, but I hope you'll meet me after the shoot.'

You blink at him and pinch your arm, not sure if you're dreaming or hallucinating. You must be. Right?

Yang Jeongin, Ayen, the maknae of Stray Kids did not just suggest he wanted you to blow him, did he? Because that would be insane.

'But- You- I,' you stutter, your brain is definitely having an error at the whole situation.

'Me and you,' Jeongin nods. 'I'd like that very much.'

At this point you're just gaping at him, probably looking like a fish on dry land. Fucking hell, what did he just do to you?

'What happened to sweet innocent Ayen?'

'Who said I was innocent?'

'Uhm, everyone?'

'Have you seen the Hallucination performance?' Jeongin asks. 'Have you been paying attention today?'

You scoff at him. Of course you have and he knows it or he wouldn't have approached you, but he just raises his eyebrows and waits for you to talk.

Damn Chan for rooming with him. It has to be his fault.

'You've been corrupted and I wasn't ready,' you pout.

'Or have I just been pretending?' Jeongin winks, taking a bite of the apple you forgot he was holding.

'Breaks over!' Your boss yells then and you jump like someone just electrocuted you.

'Wait for me after, okay?' Jeongin asks, smiling sweetly before he turns around to get his make-up touched up.

What the fuck just happened?

The rest of the shoot goes by in a blur with Jeongin being even more sexy and confident than before and it's driving you insane. It feels like he’s playing with you, with his food, like you’re the prey and he’s the hunter.

Your camera is filled with pictures of him biting his lip, rolling his eyes upwards, baring his neck and many more sexual images. Everyone around you is buzzing with energy, happy with the vibe and the pictures that are being shown on the computer screens from both Junhi, the head photographer, and you.

You lost count how many times your heart skips a beat as Jeongin looks at you, or rather at your camera, but from your point of view there’s not much difference. By the end of the shoot you feel hot and your clothes feel too tight against your skin.

One by one staff members pick up their stuff and leave the studio. You're being deliberty slow with putting your camera and laptop away and you linger to chat with your co-workers to buy yourself some more time to decide what to do.

You'd be a fool to turn down Jeongin's proposal and you desperately wanted to go with him and do anything he wanted, but a small part of you wondered if it was a good idea. You had one night stands before, but being with a world famous idol is new for you and you’re not sure if you feel confident enough to go for it.

When Jeongin leaves the studio, his manager on his heels, you stare after him. Will he wait for you somewhere? Will he come back to see if you are still here when more people have left the building?

‘Miss?’ A soft voice startles you.

To your left a kind looking man smiles down at you. He's wearing a suit and there's a security emblem on his sleeve.

‘Yes?’ you ask, nerves filling your body.

‘Could you come with me for a moment? I have some questions I'd like to ask you.’

You share a look with Yumi and she shrugs at you.

‘Uhm, sure,’ you nod, following him to the hallway. ‘What's this about?’

The man doesn't answer and leads you to a secluded room at the other side of the building. Inside sits another man in a suit and in front of him are a bunch of papers.

‘Hello,’ he greets you kindly, gesturing to the seat in front of him. ‘You're L/N Y/N?’

‘That's me,’ you nod as you sit down.

‘Good, let's get straight to it shall we,’ the man smiles. ‘Yang Jeongin has asked to spend the evening with you, do you agree to this?’

You blink a few times and your mouth falls open in a small ‘o’. You should have known that this was about Jeongin.

Squirming in your seat you try to ignore your galloping heart as blood rushes to your cheeks.

‘I agree,’ you say, screaming internally at how easy it was to say.

‘And do you also agree to sign an NDA?’

You tilt your head. ‘What would I be signing for?’

The man pushes a paper across the table for you to read. ‘The most important thing is that you can't share anything about your night with the outside world, if you do we'll sue you and you'll have to pay a large fine.’

‘Okay, so no talking about it. Got it,’ you nod, scanning the text in front of you.

It’s all pretty basic. You can’t share any personal information with anyone or make any pictures or videos during your stay with Jeongin. It makes sense that they want to protect their idol from any scandals and you weren't planning on telling anyone. Who, besides Yumi, would believe you anyway.

‘Can I borrow a pen?’

Thirty minutes later you're in front of a hotel door. Your heart is once again beating so fast that it feels like Jeongin would be able to hear it if he opened the door right now. The security guard who brought you up, gives you a funny look when you take three deep breaths before knocking on the door.

Stay calm Y/N.

Jeongin opens the door within what feels like two heartbeats. He's wearing the same outfit as before, but his hair is much messier. It looks like he continuously dragged his hands through it. Was he nervous? Did he wonder if you would come?

He grins when he sees you and steps aside to let you in.

‘I wasn't sure you'd come,’ he says as he closes the door behind you. ‘I'm really glad you did.’

‘Yeah?’ you smile, shrugging out of your coat and dumping it on the couch along with your bag. ‘I’m glad I decided to come too, then.’

‘You were having doubts?’ Jeongin asks when you turn to look at him.

He has his arms crossed and his eyebrows are raised as he studies your face.

‘Not really,’ you shake your head. ‘I just have never done anything like this with an Idol before.’

‘So in a sense, I’m your first?’ Jeongin grins, dropping his arms next to his body as he steps closer to you.

‘I guess so,’ you laugh.

‘I like that,’ Jeongin says, he’s so close now that you have to look up.

There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. He looks excited, hungry and playful and heat fills your belly in anticipation. You have no idea what to expect from him.

‘What else do you like?’ you ask, smirking up at him.

‘You’re about to find out,’ he says and then he pounces.

His lips are soft, but he kisses you hard and fast. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon and when he sucks on your tongue you moan into his mouth. Jeongin’s hands are on your waist and he slowly walks you back until your back hits the door.

‘You’re mine for tonight, Y/N,’ he whispers against your lips.

All decent thoughts and any lingering doubts leave your mind then. You like this confident man in front of you and instead of answering you just moan again and roll your hips forward to collide with his. Whatever he wants, he’ll get. You’re ready to completely give yourself to him.

Jeongin’s hands tighten on your hips to keep you still. ‘What do you say to that?’

Your brain takes a moment to come up with a reply.

‘I’m yours?’ your voice sounds breathy and shaky.

‘Is that a question or an answer?’ Jeongin asks, his lips leaving a trail on your neck as he slowly sucks on your skin.

‘I’m yours,’ you say, sounding more sure. ‘I’m yours for tonight.’

‘Good girl.’

a/n: part 2 with the smut will be up either tomorrow or monday at its latest! ;) I hope you liked reading this hehe (sorry i just cant write smut without at least SOME story or warm up lmao) - taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @delulustardust @velvetskize @channiefever @luvbangchan @aalexyuuuhm @katsukis1wife @herpoetryprincess @ye0lkkot @glitterywastelandgardener @vampcharxter @boi-bi-ahaha @mlink64 @greyyeti @mariteez

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #in x reader #skz x reader #jeongin fanfic #chancloud8 writes

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