#as we get to colder months I’m thinking maybe it’s time to get more into gaming yk

[insecuregodcomplex]

question does anyone have any switch games they’d recommend?

[1d1195]

Sunflower - Extra I

Read Sunflower here | ~2.3k words

From Me: This is mostly dialogue. I thought it was cute 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: fluffy and maybe a tiny bit of angst.

Summary: Harry reminisces on their first date. How badly he wanted to kiss her and know everything about her.

“History.”

He smiled. One question answered.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

His head rested on her stomach, nestled against her soft shirt. Harry loved looking at her, but it was good he was tucked into her embrace because she was so gorgeous it still made him tongue tied sometimes. “Why?”

“I loved the content, I just sucked at remembering the details. I never remembered names or countries that were involved in a conflict. It’s all just vague ideas and things. Dates, though. I was good at memorizing dates. Probably because it was numbers. Battles and locations? Not a clue. I sucked.”

He chuckled. “What’s your favorite candle scent?”

If anyone had told her that Harry enjoyed being snuggly and being the little spoon months ago while he was visiting the bistro, she wouldn’t have believed you. But here he was. His ear pressed to her tummy, his hands wrapped under her back, and her fingers combing through his hair. He was making her body about a thousand degrees warmer, but she didn’t care. It was nice. Like a blanket. Having Harry so close was a dream come true. “The candles they put out for fall in stores. Anything that smells like a campfire or apples. Or both.”

He closed his eyes unable to believe how lucky he was to hold her like this. His legs dangled off the side of her couch and he nodded tiredly against her. He had a tremendously long day at the office. They were supposed to leave in a few minutes to go get dinner—one of their only date nights, but he didn’t want to move. The way her fingers touched his scalp lightly scratching and massaging an itch he didn’t even know existed. Staying in seemed better. But she was all dressed up. Her makeup so pretty and flawless amplifying how beautiful she looked.

He couldn’t not show her off. Even if she was all his anyway.

Her stomach grumbled beneath his ear. “Gotta feed you, hmm?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled softly. “We can stay in,” she suggested, nudged her feet until he heard one of her shoes fall to the floor and then the other.

He shook his head sitting up. His face was instantly colder than he wanted it to be. His arms ached to hold her close again even though they had been snuggled up for hours. She smiled that beautiful smile that made him so happy he could have stared at her for ages.

How lucky was he that he got to be so close to her.

*

Their first date, Harry showed up an hour early because he was so anxious and excited. He apologized profusely, but she didn't mind. "You'll just have to watch me get ready," she warned him. So he did. He watched her curl her hair and put on makeup in awe. But most importantly, she really didn’t mind in the slightest. She simply directed him to sit on the toilet seat lid and told him to be patient while she got even prettier (his words not hers).

Of course, he was in awe because watching her was his favorite movie. It was like watching an artist painting the next Sistine Chapel. Her smile met his eyes no less than twenty times in the mirror as she worked and while they chatted.

He didn’t need to ask what kind of shampoo she used because he could see it through the glass enclosure around her shower. Something floral and light that permeated when he got close to her. When her curling iron released steam from the product she used in tandem with the sweet-smelling scent. It made him feel completely relaxed even though he was still so nervous.

“What’s your favorite song?” He asked while she did her mascara. She grinned again, shyly.

“I’m more of a favorite of a week kind of song lover.”

“This week?” He wondered.

She tilted her head. “State Lines by Novo Amor.”

“Pretty,” he nodded. “Sad, no?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” he repeated. “They’re in love but they’re in a long-distance relationship and s’literally creating distance between them emotionally,” he frowned. It was a sad song for her to love so much. It was pretty, probably good to listen to if she was feeling down or needed a nap. She turned around to look at him head on, with a smirk, without the mirror to play the go between. It was full eye contact. Her pretty, stunning eyes that made him tongue tied. The smile that made his heart skip a beat. Her entire presence the reason he had spent hundreds maybe thousands of dollars at the bistro over the last four months with the prettiest, brightest flower known to man on every surface of the place.

“The ending,” she said simply. “Extremely hopeful. He wants it to work.”

Harry knew the feeling. Suddenly it was his favorite song too.

*

“Why did y’pick finance?” He asked. They were at dinner when he asked. Not The Sunflower Bistro. Harry did suggest eating there. It was an important place to him after all. But she insisted elsewhere. Mainly for fear that Niall or Jake would make her crazy or embarrassed. It wouldn’t be good for her mental sanity for a first date. Plus, if he was honest, Harry was still a bit jealous of Jake even though he knew he didn’t need to be. But he didn’t want to test his own luck with his emotions. Nor did he want to share his very sweet date with anyone. Even if it was only due to her politeness that would keep them talking to her as they served them.

“I love numbers, and I liked economics in high school and found something so fascinating about the ebb and flow of money. I know that makes me sound money hungry but it’s not. I’ve been applying to a ton of nonprofit organizations. I want to work for a company that wants to help people. I want to make sure kids have school lunches and that elderly people have a place to live that won’t cost an arm and a leg.”

Tongue-tied. So completely, totally, tongue-tied. There was no way anyone this sweet would want to be with Harry. He worked for a big scary corporate job and was probably the exact opposite of what she wanted. “Are you okay?” She asked.

He nodded, then shook his head while clearing his throat. How embarrassing would it be if he couldn’t talk to her on their first date because he was so goddamn in love with her? “How many siblings do y’have?” He needed a safer topic. One that wasn’t going to make him fall in love with her so readily.

“Just one. We’re not very close, but I wish we were. I’d still kill for him. But he’s still in high school and I’m finishing college. I’m hoping when we’re older we’ll get closer.”

“My sister and I are closer now that we’re older. I imagine I was a pain in her butt when we were younger. When she was a teen, and I was an annoying little kid.”

“I bet she loved you still. There’s six years between us, I loved the crap out of him even when I wanted to tear his head off.”

He chuckled. “I think you’re nicer than Gemma.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. Harry wanted to know everything about her. Every seemingly trivial piece of information there was to know. It felt like if he didn’t know he would explode. It was like he was studying for an exam, and she was every answer. All the months he spent in his regular booth twice a week, he felt like he learned nothing. Now he was trying to cram for some made up test and nothing about his line of questions made sense.

“What kind of music do y’listen t’when you’re cooking?”

“Like this classic rock radio station that my dad listened to my entire childhood. It’s super nostalgic but it’s like a hug when I’m alone cooking for myself,” she wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of lame, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “No, s’nice,” he smiled. “Send me the station so I can listen too,” he suggested.

Her head tilted; her eyes thoughtful as she grinned back at him. As much as he wanted to know everything about her, he would have loved to stare at her just as much. He opened his mouth to ask another question but fortunately the waiter interrupted.

It probably wasn’t appropriate to ask her how many kids she wanted on a first date.

*

Harry walked her to the door feeling more anxious than when he came to pick her up. He was supposed to kiss her. Supposed to. But how could he? How could he do that if he was worried he would drool in her mouth or if he would do it wrong and ruin it? If he ruined it, she would never go on another date with him. After all that, all the stuff he learned about her, it seemed cruel for his anxiety to ruin the end of the night.

“I had a really nice time,” her voice was soft as they shared the top step of the stoop outside her apartment. A one bedroom in a small duplex house. Her friend lived on the other side, and she was glad there wasn’t a car in her driveway to make her feel exposed.

“Good,” he bit his lip. “I... I guess I’ll let y’go. I know y’work a double tomorrow.”

Was that disappointment in her eyes? “Oh... yeah. Yeah, I do,” Her face fell ever so slightly. If Harry wasn’t so entranced he would have missed it for sure. Leaning in he pressed his lips to her cheek. Her skin was so soft and he was so nervous he was going to linger and act like a creep.

“Good night,” he murmured.

“Good night,” Harry turned the second the word left her mouth. He walked to his car feeling like an idiot. He closed his eyes as he touched the car handle and then there was a touch on his back. “I’m sorry!” She blurted then looked up at the sky and winced. “Jesus, I’m so sorry,” she croaked.

Harry blinked. “Sorry?” He questioned.

“Yes, so sorry. I feel like I ruined our first date. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I lost an hour of prep time and I’m not blaming you. I was so happy to have you around for an extra hour but I didn’t get to think about what I wanted to ask or say. Then you just asked all these really sweet and thoughtful questions. I didn’t ask you one question about yourself, Harry. Not one I don’t know why you even stayed the whole time, I feel so terrible. I don’t know what happened and I’m sad you didn’t want to kiss me because of it—”

Harry was in awe, but he wasn’t someone that liked to inflict pain on others. So he cupped either side of her jaw and kissed her. Just pressed his lips to hers and ran his thumb along her cheek as he did. She grabbed one of his elbows and sank into the kiss as well. Her lips returning the pressure perfectly. There wasn’t too much drool and he didn’t ruin it. He pulled back and her eyelids fluttered open. Her cheek was warm beneath his thumb. If it was a bit lighter out, he imagined a pretty blush bloomed across her cheeks.

“I really wanted t’kiss you,” he murmured. “Can I kiss y’again?”

She nodded mutely, her eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his mouth back to hers, one hand moving from her jaw to the back of her neck before it smoothed down her spine and he pulled her closer to him by pressing against the small of her back. He kissed her softly again restraining the moan that begged to come from his throat. When he pulled away again, he swallowed.

“Y’didn’t do anything wrong. M’so... tongue tied over you. I want t’know everything ‘bout you. I was trying so hard not t’let the conversation die because I didn’t want you t’think I was stupid. Or boyish and only obsessed with how pretty y’looked—which y’did, by the way. You look stunning,” her smile looked equal parts relieved and adorable. “I didn’t even notice y’didn’t ask a question.”

“We talked all the time at Sunflower.”

“I think it was different when I was jus’ a customer, kitten,” he shrugged. “Y’flitted about and chatted so easily because it was your job. M’glad y’were nervous. Means it wasn’t a chore for you t’go out with me.”

She giggled and Harry wondered if he could record the sound, and have it play in his headphones while he fell asleep. “I want to know everything about you, Harry. I’m sorry I didn’t ask more questions.”

“You don’t have t’be sorry, love,” he assured her, kissed the top of her head and pulled her into his embrace and leaned against his car as he held her. “You could ask them on the next date?” He offered as a question.

“Yes,” she nodded against his body. “A next date for sure.”

*

“What are you thinking about?” She whispered. “You’ve got this dreamy look in your eye.”

Did he? How long had he been staring off thinking about their first date. Poor thing had to be starving, and he was just lying there, keeping her trapped in his arms while he pictured their first two kisses. “Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Thinking of your other girlfriend?” She wrinkled her nose. Harry snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous, kitten,” he rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead before he sat up shifting to hold her on his lap as if she weighed no more than a basket of laundry. “You’re the only girl for me.”

--

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[paisleypens]

SPENCER AGNEW!? SHARING HOODIE?

omg imagine :))))

IMAGINE OMG I LOVE HIM SO COMFY SO COZY

spill it | spencer agnew x reader

~~~

While you loved the chaos of being a PA for the Smosh Games channel, some days you just needed some peace. Luckily enough you found it in your coworker Spencer Agnew. The relationship had started innocently enough. A few late nights working on the new Games set had turned into shared jokes, then dinners, and soon enough, something more. But for the sake of professionalism, you both decided to keep it a secret from the rest of the office. The late-night texts, stolen kisses behind closed doors, and hushed conversations had become your norm. Tonight, however, felt special.

"Hey, you wanna come over tonight?" Spencer asked quietly, leaning closer as you both tested a new controller on the Games stage.

"Sure," you replied, your heart doing a little flip at the thought of spending more time with him.

Later that evening, you found yourself at Spencer's apartment, cozy and warm. After a quiet dinner and a movie, you were both curled up on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. As the night grew colder, Spencer noticed you shivering slightly.

"Here," he said, grabbing one of his hoodies from the back of the couch. "Take this. You’ll be warmer."

"Thanks," you smiled, slipping it on and reveling in the comfort it provided. You hadn't planned on staying the night, but as you snuggled closer, you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sunlight streaming through the windows. Realizing you were running late, you quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, still wearing Spencer's hoodie. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the Smosh office that you realized what you had done. Panic set in, but there was no time to go back and change.

As you walked into the office, you tried to act normal. However, it wasn’t long before Courtney noticed the hoodie.

"Nice hoodie," she said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Isn’t that Spencer's?"

Your cheeks flushed bright red as you tried to think of a plausible excuse. "Oh, uh, yeah. He lent it to me because I was cold."

Courtney raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Right. Just cold."

As the day went on, more people started to notice. Shayne gave you a knowing look, and Damien couldn’t help but tease you a little.

"Didn't know Spencer was into sharing his clothes," Damien joked, winking at Spencer who was equally flustered.

By lunchtime, the secret was out. Spencer and you were cornered by the rest of the crew in the commons.

"Okay, spill it," Olivia demanded playfully. "How long have you two been a thing?"

Seeing no point in denying it any longer, you and Spencer exchanged a glance before admitting the truth. "A few months," Spencer said, squeezing your hand under the table.

"About time!" Ian Hecox exclaimed. "We were wondering when you two would finally come clean. You have some paperwork to fill out."

“He has had those papers on deck for months.” Anthony chuckled before handing Ian five bucks.

Relief washed over you as the initial awkwardness dissolved into lighthearted teasing and genuine support. It turned out, keeping the secret had been more stressful than it was worth.

As the day came to an end, Spencer pulled you aside. "You okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You nodded, smiling up at him. "Yeah. Actually, I’m glad they know. It’s a relief."

"Me too," he said, pulling you into a hug. "And hey, you look cute in my hoodie."

Blushing, you stood on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. "Thanks. Maybe I’ll borrow it more often."

Spencer grinned. “Anytime. Now, how about we go get dinner? I know a place.”

“You always know a place.” you giggled.

And with that, you and Spencer walked out of the office together, no longer a secret but something even better – a couple who could finally be themselves.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

hello! i was wondering if you'd want to write a ford x reader where reader works for stan and meets ford post-portal and develops a crush on him. but stan and reader are close and platonically flirty so ford thinks they're together and he gets jealous. 🤭✨️

Ford Pines x Reader

Working for Stan Pines had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed it. He was gruff but caring, and the two of you had developed a playful, banter-filled relationship over the months. It was never serious, just harmless flirting, teasing, and sarcastic remarks as you helped him run the Mystery Shack.

Things changed, however, when Stan’s brother, Ford, came back after the portal incident.

The first time you meet Ford, you’re immediately fascinated. His intellect and quiet strength draw you in, and before you know it, you’ve developed a little crush on him. He might be a nerd but he's also REALLY fucking hot.

But there’s one small problem: Ford thinks you’re with Stan.

Ford, being the overthinker that he is, notices how close you and Stan are. You joke with Stan constantly, playfully swatting his arm when he says something ridiculous or teasingly calling him “handsome” when he tries to con a tourist. Ford misinterprets your playful banter as romantic chemistry.

At first, Ford tries to ignore his growing jealousy. He tells himself that it’s none of his business if you and Stan are together. You work with Stan, after all, it’s natural for you to be close. But every time he sees you two laughing or Stan throwing his arm around your shoulder in a friendly way, it stings a little more.

Ford starts to act distant around you. He tries to avoid being in the same room as you and Stan, feeling awkward and a little heartbroken every time he thinks about you being with his brother.

You notice how Ford’s behavior changes. He seems colder and more withdrawn, and you can’t figure out why. At first, you chalk it up to his busy schedule or his obsession with research, but the more you try to engage with him, the more he pulls away.

One day, you catch Ford glaring at you and Stan while you’re joking around at the register. Stan had just made some ridiculous comment about how you two were the “best-looking pair in Gravity Falls,” and you’d played along with a sarcastic eye roll and a laugh. That’s when you notice Ford’s eyes narrow.

It hits you like a ton of bricks, Ford thinks you and Stan are together! Suddenly, all his coldness and distance start to make sense. He’s jealous!

Determined to clear things up, you corner Ford in the lab that evening. “Hey,” you say softly, stepping into his workspace. “Can we talk?”

Ford looks up from his notes, his face stiff. “Is something wrong?” he asks, his tone neutral but guarded.

You take a deep breath, deciding to just rip the band-aid off. “Ford, I think you’ve misunderstood something. Stan and I, we’re not together. We’re just friends.”

Ford blinks, clearly taken aback. “You’re… not?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Just friends. We joke around a lot, but it’s all in good fun. I’m not interested in Stan like that.”

Ford’s expression softens as the weight of his misunderstanding lifts. He looks almost embarrassed. “I see. uh, I may have jumped to conclusions.”

You can’t help but laugh softly. “Yeah, I figured. But for the record… I do like someone else.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you say, stepping a little closer. “Someone smart, brave, and a little bit awkward, but in a really endearing way.”

His eyes widen as realization dawns on him. “Me?”

You smile warmly. “Yes, you.”

Ford is quiet for a moment, processing your words. Then, to your surprise, he gives a small, shy smile. “I- well, I never would have guessed. I thought… you and Stan…”

“yeah, no, he's just my boss, thought you'd get that considering how smart you are."

Ford chuckles at that, and the tension between you two fades. “I suppose I’ve been a bit foolish, haven’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” you tease, stepping closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “But I guess I can forgive you.”

A/n: this was super corny I'm so sorry.

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Not About the Sleep

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

A/N: I've been Going Thru It this last week, but I've been wanting to post something for ya'll for months. So I wrote this for myself to share :)

Your phone was on the other end of the room. It buzzed occasionally, but you never bothered to get up and check it. Curling in on yourself, you closed your eyes, waiting to drift back off to sleep. 

A few knocks on your door caused you to inhale sharply. 

“Helllooooo? You in there? You alive?” It was Lucifer. You ignored the concerned edge in his voice. 

“I’m alive,” you responded back, not bothering to move or open your eyes. “I’m just tired.”

There was a long pause. “Wellllll… Can I come in? Is that okay?” Lucifer then started muttering, “Will Alastor kill me if I go in? No, there’s no way. Well, maybe? Gah! I don’t know.”

When there wasn’t a response, you heard the door creak open lightly. Opening your eyes, you managed to sit up a little. Lucifer stood in the doorway, dressed casually. He was fidgeting with his apple cane, looking around at your messy room. 

“Oh, man,” he whispered, before clearing his throat. “Do you… want to come downstairs? For lunch? Charlie cooked this time, she’s excited to show you.”

Sighing a little, you shook your head. “I’m alright. Thanks for the offer, though.” You’d expected that to be it, already grabbing the covers to pull back over your shoulders. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lucifer sounded serious this time, more serious than he’d ever spoken to you before. 

“I’m just tired, Luci.” You gave him a small smile to reassure him, but he didn’t look reassured. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

Lucifer swallowed. He stopped fidgeting now, his apple cane firmly on the ground. “You’ve been sleeping for over fifteen hours. You and I both know it’s not about sleep at this point.”

You were quiet. Logically, you knew he was right. Of course he was right. He’d know the best of everyone here. But you just wanted to sleep. There was nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix, right? You’d be right as rain by dinner, you were sure of it. 

“I’m fine, Lucifer.” Your tone was colder than you’d meant it to be, silently apologizing to your first. “Tell Charlie I’ll have some of her leftovers or something later.” 

Pulling the covers over your head, you firmly shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you again. That was all you needed. Just a little more sleep. 

As Lucifer pulled the door closed, you could’ve sworn you’d heard him say something, but you missed it. 

Bringing your knees to your chest, you considered Lucifer’s words. “We both know it’s not about sleep at this point.” He was wrong, surely. You hadn’t gotten like that in ages, not since Alastor had come back. You’d been fine for so long, and you were always able to catch it. Always able to say something, to let someone know you needed help. You would know if something was wrong. And nothing was wrong. You were just tired. That was it. 

But what if he was right? What if it was getting bad again? You couldn’t bear to think about it, especially now that Alastor was here to talk reason into you. The things you’d considered while Alastor was gone scared you even now, and you had sworn you’d never let things get that bad ever again. 

You were just overreacting, that was all. It was the weather, surely, or something like that. Everything would be fine. Everything was always fine. It was fine. You were fine. 

Your senses came to you slowly. You must’ve finally fallen back to sleep, but who in their right mind would wake you back up? What part of, “I just need some sleep,” did people not understand? 

The crackling of jazz music is what you heard first, followed by the familiar sound of Alastor’s humming. It was dark outside now (not that it made a difference with the curtains closed) and a few lights had been turned on in your room. The entire place was filled with dim, orange light. 

Oh, no. Not Alastor. Of all people, you really didn’t want to see Alastor. 

There was no pretending to be asleep around Alastor. He could usually hear as soon as you woke up and your breathing picked up again. With a groan, you sat up, your eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

“Ah! Good evening, my dear!” Alastor said cheerily. He was folding your clothes at your desk. The same clothes, you realized, that had been laying in a basket untouched for a week. “I took the liberty of cleaning your room for you, I do hope you don’t mind.”

“Alastor, why… I…  thought I locked the door after Lucifer left.” A glass of water sat at your bedside, still cold. You obviously hadn’t put it there.

“You did!” Alastor smiled. “I don’t care for locks, you know. Do drink some water, dearest.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at him, but Alastor was quick to match your gaze. Rather than start an argument you knew you’d lose, you drank some of the water as asked. Actually, you ended up drinking the whole glass. You hadn’t even realized how thirsty you were. 

“Imagine my surprise when Lucifer, of all people, came to tell me he was worried about you. I laughed at him, of course. Worried about you? Preposterous! You’d tell me if you were ill, I assured him, but…” Alastor paused, folding your final piece of laundry. “Dear Husker informed me how my absence affected you, so I thought a little drop-in wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fuck those guys,” you muttered to yourself, massaging the bridge of your nose. “I just need some sleep, Al, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I said!” Alastor declared, clearly happy someone agreed with him. “But then Miss Charlie went on and on about some sort of ‘mental health’ nonsense. It was all quite annoying.”

Alastor started skillfully putting your clothes away. It was clear he knew exactly where everything went. How, you had no idea, but this was Alastor we were talking about. 

He continued, “but I saw the sorry state of your room! How appalling! But I wasn’t about to wake you, so I did a little spring cleaning. Rosie is always telling me how a little cleaning can do a lot to improve a person’s mood. Speaking of Rosie, she was telling me about the most dastardly customer she had to deal with the other day! I brought back a little bit of them for you.”

So you sat there in your bed, listening to Alastor talk about his week while he cleaned your room. It did manage to bring a small smile to your face, especially once Alastor started slipping jokes into his stories. 

You were going to have to get Lucifer and Husk back for ratting you out, but that was a problem for later. For now, all you had to worry about was Alastor not rearranging your whole room so he could do who-know-what to it. And you’d have to tell Rosie she was right about the whole cleaning thing, but part of you knew it wasn’t just about the cleaning.

[xetlynn]

Twilight- The Switch of Daylight: Chapter Five, Tore Up

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[four] [five] [six]

A month later Bella still has been in a weird funk, she barely talks anymore. There’s no light in her eyes. She’s boring.

Sorry to put it in rough words I guess.

I make sure she eats and at least is getting food in her stomach but there’s really nothing else I can do.

I hang out with the guys on the Rez. Mainly Sam, I go see Jacob too but he doesn’t really talk to Sam so he feels awkward whenever we hang out.

So Sam is my go to. Or hanging out with Angela and surprisingly Jessica.

They try to get Bella to come out but she’s still in a depression.

October has been plain. I still haven’t opened the letter that lays on the ground. Jessica has brought it up every time she’s come over.

She’s tried to pick it up but I tell her to knock it off and we eventually leave my room to go somewhere else.

I don’t trust her in my room alone either. She’s too nosy even Angela can be influenced by her so I tend to go over to their places.

November, everyone starts to decorate for Christmas, it’s been getting colder and Bella hasn’t changed at all. Bob Marks and his wife even brought over a turkey and tried to explain their concern for her.

We tell them she’s okay she just wants time alone. I knew Charlie was getting worried as ever.

For Thanksgiving I talked Charlie into having Sam and Jacob join us, maybe getting Bella to open up a little bit.

But of course it really didn’t. She wasn’t paying attention to anything, having to repeat ourselves numerous times.

December, Charlie dragged in a Christmas tree toward the house, I watched as he looked up at Bella who sat by the window as she normally did, listening to music in the background.

And now her depression is starting to ware off on me.

The letter on the floor of my room becoming more of a distraction every time I enter the room.

The white becoming brighter like the sun is purposely shining down on it through the clouds.

As much as I want to read it, I know it would bring me down. The anger would seep back in.

Taking control.

“Hey, you’re gonna open it today?” Sam knocks on the door, startling me. I turn to look at him and I laugh nervously.

“Huh, no, I think I’m going to throw it away.” I go over to it and I think about picking it up but something stops me.

“Would you want me to read it and then I could let you know if it would upset you too much?” He offers, “you just want to know what it says.” I smirk.

“Maybe but I know how much it’s bothering you.” He shrugs his shoulders. I nod my head, thinking for a little bit before finally picking up the stupid letter.

“Here.” I shove it on his chest. He takes it and then sits down on the bed.

He reads it, taking his time as I then started to pace back and forth in my room.

I hear the paper crumple and I snap my neck over at him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I go up to him but as he crumpled it he then starts tearing it up.

“There’s no point in reading this.” He throws away the now shredded and crumpled pieces of paper away. My eyes don’t leave the sight of the trash can.

“Why?” I look up at him, confused by his strong reaction.

“We worked too hard for you to get upset like Bella, it’s best you stay in the dark. You trust me right?” He smiles reassuringly but for some reason I feel odd about this.

“Yeah, yeah of course I do.” I partly lie. Shaking the feeling off I leave the room, he follows behind.

We go outside to see Bob Marks try to ask Bella how she is but she of course is in her own world and doesn’t hear him. Bob shrugs it off to Charlie but I can see that my dad is done with this.

Once Bob walks away he goes over to Bella’s truck, slamming the door shut that Bella had just closed.

“That’s it.”

“That’s what?” Bella is alarmed, Sam and I stay quiet.

“You’re going to Jacksonville to live with your mother.” He tells her, her eyes widen.

“What? Why?” She questions.

“I just- don’t know what to do any more. You don’t act like someone left. You act more like someone died.” Charlie explains, I watch as my sister looks away.

“I’m not leaving Forks.” She states.

“Bells, the bastards not coming back.”

She nods at his words, knowing it herself.

“It’s not normal, this behavior. And frankly, it’s scaring the hell outta me, your mother and sister.” Bella finally notices that I’m on the porch. I’ve talked to Charlie about sending her to Jacksonville, I’m the one who brought up to both of our parents and I think she knows too.

“Go to Jacksonville, Baby. Make some new friends.” He gently tells her. “I like my old friends.”

“You never see them anymore.” He argues.

“I do, too. I’m um… Jessica and I are going to Port Angeles tomorrow. Shopping.” She lies, I let out a sigh shaking my head.

“You hate shopping.” He points out in a suspicious manner.

“That’s how good a friend I am.” She says. “Alright, shopping.” He repeats.

I smack my lips, rolling my eyes.

“Dad, I’m going to Port Angeles with Sam right now actually. We’re gonna see a movie.” I hop down the steps, going over and kissing his cheek.

“You two sure are hanging out a lot.” He comments, pointing between us. I glance back at Sam and snicker.

“Yeah, we found out we have a few things in common.” I punch the boy then look back at my dad.

“Alright, be safe.” He then comes up to my ear to whisper. “Make sure she sticks to her word when you get back, please.” It was barely audible and I knew Bella wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“Of course.” I whisper back, kissing his cheek once more.

“Bye Bells, I love you both.” I wave them goodbye as Sam and I get into his truck. “Why’d you lie to him?” Sam asks.

“You think my dad is gonna let me hang out with you guys and jump off of a cliff?” I raise a brow, putting in my seatbelt as I feel my dad staring at the both of us.

“True.” He laughs, he then slowly starts driving. Speeding up the further he gets away from my house.

Sam gets to the cliff and all the other guys are waiting. I excitedly get out and go to the truck bed to wear a suit is.

Being a vampire had its advantages, not feeling cold weather was a huge part of it.

Meaning I could jump off a cliff into cold water and not get a heart attack or sick from it.

I go behind the truck and Sam watches out for me while I change.

I used to be a huge adrenaline junkie when I was human, this is going to be so much fun.

Once I finished changing I threw my clothes on the truck and joined next to Sam.

“Ready?” He smiles down at me and I nod my head. Us and the rest of the guys all get together to run and jump off of the cliff.

The leap into the air felt free, falling and still getting that similar feeling in my stomach of falling. I laugh loudly and flip in the air into a diving position right as I hit the water.

I open my eyes underneath the water and see all the other guys hit the water as well.

A grin never leaving my face.

I then swim back up and laugh, trying to find Sam who comes up gasping for air.

“That was amazing!” I shout over to him, moving my limbs to get to him. “It was!” He shakes his hair, causing the water to hit me in the face.

We did it a few more times and each time the feeling becomes addictive.

I wanted to keep going up until I overheard Sam talking with someone.

Pretending to still get ready for another jump I listen in.

“They were trying to warn her about us. Me specifically.” Sam says to the other guy. I raise a brow.

“Honestly if I didn’t feel something for her I would’ve let her read the stupid letter.” He lets out his words and I shake my head to myself. Oh no…

“They love her. That’s all it was. And a warning about the wolves and some prophecy with the reincarnate. Who is her.” He carries on and I stand up straight suddenly.

Why would he hide something like that from me?

Why would he rip that up?

“I’ll tell you guys later.” He caught on I think. I turn around with a smile.

“Sam, gonna join me for one more?” I shout over to him.

“Uh, sure.” He jogs over to me and we get to the cliff.

We jump one last time and when we get back up to air I stare at him.

“I don’t think we should hang out anymore.” I tell him. He scrunches his face in confusion, still trying to catch his breath.

“What?” He asks. “I heard you.” I admit to him. “Heard me?” He raises a brow.

“Don’t act stupid, Sam. About the letter. Nothing would’ve made me like Bella. You hid that from me for your own good.” I call him out and his face goes pale. “[Name]-“

“No, don’t. I can’t argue with you. I just. I need time away from you for a little bit and then I want to hear what was in that letter.” I tell him with a bored expression. But still making sure I’m stern.

“Okay.” Is all he says in return.

It felt too fast, our friendship.

Three months was all it was to last?

I might’ve had a crush on him when I was younger but I can’t just forget my two lovers who had to leave. I’m hurt they left but I know they just wanted to be with their family.

They didn’t have a choice. Their loyalty is strong. I just wish I opened the goddamn letter myself.

(CHANGE OF POV)

“No, we promised Edward.” Carlisle shakes his head.

“But she won’t do well without us. I get flashes of her, but they’re unclear-“

“Forget her, let’s drag Edward home, and get [Name]. She should be with us.” Rosalie cuts Alice off. They were at their cousin’s house, Tanya in Alaska.

“He’ll come back when he’s ready. After Bella moves on. And [Name] should be where she wants” Esme interjects.

“Yes. Bella’s living her life, safe from danger, and [Name] will do whatever she can to protect that.” Carlisle assures the others.

“You mean safe from us.” Jasper mainly talks to himself, Alice wraps an arm around him in a soothing manner.

“And when will that be?” Rosalie looks at Alice.

“Can you see him, Alice?” Emmett questions. She closes her eyes, everyone now paying their full attention to her.

“The only decisions he’s made is to be alone.” She sadly tells them.

The others all look around at each other but then Rosalie stands up.

“Can you still not see [Name]?” Her eyes were hopeful, just wanting to see her sister again.

Obviously not really being sisters but Rosalie loved [Name] like one.

“I’ll try again. All I get are glimpses when she’s out with friends or home. She’s been with wolves.” Alice explains, holding onto Jasper who also watches his partner close her eyes once again trying to find their love.

“She’s hurt. Our letter is ripped in the trash and she’s trying to put it back together. Sam… The wolf. He tore it up.” Alice starts getting angry, her chest rising and falling prominently.

“How do you know that?” Emmett questions, now standing beside Rosalie. Carlisle and Esme grow curious as well.

“She’s crying about it to Bella. Well ranting, she can’t cry.” Alice voice breaks, she’s obviously putting herself in the room and wants to be there for [Name].

Jasper tenses up. “She shouldn’t have befriended a dog.” Rosalie judges.

“It’s her childhood friend…” Alice disagrees, even if she is against werewolves, she knows her girlfriend and will always be on her side.

(Change back to [Name])

I pull all the pieces of paper out from the trash, trying to lay them out on the ground to figure out what the letter says.

Not even hearing the door open and a body standing over me. I whisper to myself, angrily ranting about what Sam did.

“[Name], what are you doing?” I gasp, jumping up from the voice. Calming myself once I see my sister in my vision.

“What?” I ask disoriented. “I asked what you’re doing… with the pieces of paper on your floor.” She repeats her question and I look at the ground then back at her.

“It’s the letter, from Alice and Jasper. Sam, he ripped it.” I try not to get angry again, pulling out another piece of paper from the trash and I lay it on the ground with the others.

“Want me to help put it together?” She comes to the other side of me and without me even saying yes or no she sits on the ground.

[vodika-vibes]

would it be okay if i request something from the gentle care please? i was thinking "It's okay if you fall asleep." with shaak ti where the reader (gn please) is their padawan?

A Mother's Love

Summary: Master Shaak is the best Master you could have asked for. She’s so kind and so patient, and you want to be just like her when you grow up. But that’s still ages away.

Characters: Master Shaak Ti, Jedi Padawan! GN Reader

Word Count: 1070

Warnings: None

A/N: So, ngl, this almost ended up as an Order 66 fic, where Shaak is telling her padawan that it's okay to fall asleep after they were shot bt a clone, but that's a level of sadness I'm not prepared for today, so you get this instead.

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You’re fairly certain that the planet you’re on is nothing but forest. And you’d think it was pretty, if not for the fact that you’ve been sneezing almost nonstop since landing nearly an hour ago.

At this point your nose is running, your eyes are watering, and your throat hurts.

All in all, you are a very miserable Padawan.

Another violent sneeze nearly sends you toppling backward, and it’s only your Master’s gentle touch on your shoulder that keeps you on your feet. You blink up at her through watery eyes, and she smiles kindly at you as she crouches so she’s closer to your level.

Gentle, yet calloused, fingers wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re not having a good time at all, are you?”

“‘M sorry, Master,” You say as you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your robe.

“Nonsense, we had no way to know that you were going to be so allergic to those flowers,” She pulls a handkerchief from inside her robe and uses it to wipe your eyes, “It’s hardly your fault.”

“But I’m slowing us down,”

“Oh, my little one,” Master Shaak draws you closer and smooths her hand down your head, lightly moving your tiny padawan braid back behind your ear, “This is not a life or death mission, we’re just here to collect some data from the researchers who live here.” Her smile is kind, “We don’t send 10-year-olds on dangerous missions,”

Oh. That makes sense.

Master Shaak scans your face for a moment, and you can feel her gentle force-touch wash through your body. Someday you’re going to learn how to do that too, but you can’t do it yet.

“Hm, the reaction is getting worse,” She murmurs, “Your eyes are starting to swell. I bet it’s getting hard to see, isn’t it?”

You sneeze three times into your sleeve, “Yes, Master,” You reply, miserably.

“How’s your breathing?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, you must let me know if that changes,”

“Yes, Master.”

Master Shaak scoops you into her arms, and continues walking, “We’ll be at the camp shortly, Padawan. I’m sure they’ll have something to help you.” 

True to her words, less than fifteen minutes later she steps into a camp.

It’s not like any camp you’ve ever seen before. You expected canvas tents, or maybe a mobile home that wealthy people own, but this looks more like a temporary village than anything else.

A series of violent sneezes draws attention toward you and your Master, and you utter a miserable apology as a researcher hurries over to the pair of you. 

The man, a twi’lek wearing a stark white lab coat, takes a long look at you and nods, “Your Padawan appears to be allergic to the native flora, Master Jedi. We should have sent warning.”

“A warning?” Master Shaak asks as she lowers you back to the ground and hands you another cloth to wipe your eyes with.

“We’ve determined that human-based species have a 75% chance of having an allergic reaction to the native plants.”

Master Shaak’s eyes narrow, “And when was this determined?”

The Researcher has the grace to look ashamed, “A month ago, Master Jedi.”

You feel your Master release her annoyance into the force, and she sets her hand on your head, “Well, there’s nothing to be done for it now,” She says, her voice a little colder, “Is there someplace where my Padawan and I can wash the pollen off?”

“Yes, of course!” He gestures to a white building near the edge of the camp, “The showers are there. And I’ll get a dose of allergy medicine for the child.” He pauses, “And a mask.”

He hurries off as quickly as he can and Master Shaak guides you to the showers. She claims two showers near the end of the line, allowing you to take the one furthest from the entrance.

“Make sure you take your braid out as well,” She reminds you before she steps into her shower, “I’ll rebraid it later tonight.”

“Yes, Master,”

You step into the stall and look around. It’s decently sized, with an area separate from the actual shower. A place for you to store your clothes, you figure. There’s also a clean towel sitting folded on the bench, and a basket with shampoo, conditioner, and body soap.

By the time you finish showering, rush a brush through your hair, and pull on the clothes that haven’t been covered in pollen, Master Shaak has already finished and is waiting for you in the hall.

Everything is still a little blurry since your eyes are still swollen, but the sneezing has finally stopped. Master Shaak’s hand brushes over the top of your head, “I have some allergy medicine for you,” She says lightly, “It’s a liquid, so you don’t have to swallow a pill. I know that’s hard for you.”

She hands you a small cup and you scrunch up your nose but take the dose of medicine. The taste is foul enough that you shudder and you hear your Master laugh softly.

“Everyone is waiting for us around the campfire,” She continues, once she’s sure that you took all of the medicine, “Seems that that’s how they like to share their research at the end of the day.”

“So we’re staying for longer?”

“I’m afraid so,” Her hand moves to the back of your head, and she guides you out of the shower and over to the campfire.

Gracefully, she folds herself so she’s kneeling on a thick blanket on the ground, while you, much less gracefully, drop next to her, trying to mimic how she’s sitting.

You don’t quite pull it off, but warmth and pride radiate from her down your training bond.

As the adults around you start talking, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You guess that the allergy medicine wasn’t non-drowsy.

You try to fight the sleepiness as much as you can, but it doesn’t take long before Master Shaak’s hand is resting on the top of your head. “It’s okay if you fall asleep,” She reassures you in a soft voice.And, slowly, she guides you so that your head is resting on her lap. She gently rubs your back while pushing warmth and comfort through your training bond, and you quickly sink into slumber, secure in the knowledge that none will harm you so long as Master Shaak is standing watch.

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[ssahopelessly]

Silent Treatment

This idea came to me earlier in the month. Enjoy!

The communication with Spencer has dropped off for a few weeks now. Maybe the occasional “agent” but nothing much more. So one night, while you both are in office, you try to get him to talk to you.

A/N: Spencer Reid is a petty bitch. And I stand by that and him. 🤍

570 words

Masterlist

“I can’t sleep at night.” The confession came out with an exhale of breath. ‘Why did I say that?’ I began asking myself. But I tried to build the mental defenses against my anxieties. I needed to say something, anything if we were to recover.

Spencer stopped in his steps between the many desks in the bullpen, freezing in place. I had almost wished he would look my way, it had been weeks now. Weeks of acting like I wasn’t there. Like I didn’t exist on the same plane of reality that he did. But I did, I always had.

“Every time I try to fall asleep, I just lay there and- I stare at the ceiling.” He didn’t move, not to look at me, not to even turn his body towards me. Spencer froze in place, like a statue in some closed off private garden. “I- I feel like I’ve tried nearly everything.” A nervous laugh did slip past my lips that time as I stepped around my desk, hesitating in that spot. “ASMR doesn’t work. I tried the aromatherapy: the lavender scents that we saw that one time at the farmers market.” Even from several desks away, I could see the miniscule movement of his hand, as it flexed by his side. But he was still facing away from me, only his ear turned towards me. “I’m actually considering taking melatonin, as much as I was against the idea originally.” There was still no reaction from him, he was as still as ever. One would think maybe this was a standoff, but I’ve seen him in a standoff.

In times of crisis, he can be the most stable and level headed person in the room, the world often not giving him half the credit he deserves for being so calm under the brains. And for a while, I knew everything about him. I knew what would keep him awake at night and how to calm his anxieties and worst nightmares. I knew with just a look, what about a case was bothering him. I knew him in the most intimate and private ways and somewhere along the weeks, I lost him.

“I even tried turning the fan up a speed, trying to get the room colder at night.” There were tears building in the corners of my eyes as my anxieties caught up to me. I tried to force them down, not wanting my voice to break as I continued in this effort to talk to him. “Nothing is working Spencer.” His shoulders fell at the sound of his name. I could see how he almost turned his head to look at me, clenching his fist to his side as he tucked it into his pocket. “I don’t know what more to do.” A tear had broken free and I wiped it away with my hand, brushing it onto the sweater I had been wearing for the day. It was then he finally looked at me, ever so slightly. He didn’t turn his full body or face to me, but I knew I was still in his peripheral vision. He swallowed something that had been caught in his throat.

“Get a cat.” Was all Spencer said to me. At that, he left the bullpen area, exiting towards the break room. I stood there as a few more tears escaped. ‘That bastard.’

I was allergic to cats.

[f1bordeaux]

If You Cared (Part 4) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: Suggestive content in the beginning, implied nudity, angst Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.3k Poetry style | Story style A/n: One more part left! I decided to do 5 chapters instead of only 4, so the next part is the last part. This was kinda rushed, sorry if you can tell, but I'm leaving soon and I really wanted to finish this up for you guys so you weren't waiting for two months lmao. I'll come back one day and revise it, but ur stuck with this for now. Enjoy! Part 5 will be up tomorrow <;3 Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

“Goodnight!” You waved as your mom and dad sombered down the hall. Finally.

You ran into your room, reaching for your phone on your desk. Max’s contact was the first one to pop up. Come up. You sent.

Victoria and I are still in the living room chatting. I’m trying to get up there. He sent back immediately. 

I’ll be waiting, just come in. Don’t knock. With that, you set your phone down and cracked open your window. A thick, cold gust of wind blew in. It would rain soon, a perfect background noise for what was about to happen. You smirked thinking about it. You smirked thinking about how worked up you made Max on the yacht, just to say in the end, “You have to wait until we get home to do anything more than kiss.”

This would be fun.

The only light in the room was coming from a lamp on your desk. It created a warm, soft, dreamy atmosphere. Your sheets seemed softer than normal, your pillow seemed thicker than normal, the wood on your feet seemed colder than normal. Maybe it was the exhaustion finally setting in from the day on the boat, but your senses were heightened. You wondered what it would feel like to kiss Max again. Would it be different? Would it feel better?

Only a few more minutes would pass before your door opened so quietly that you almost didn’t notice. Max slid in through the crack, a smile on his lips. “Hello.” He said.

“Glad to see you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t pass this up for the world.” He said, sitting next to you on your bed. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body into a tight embrace. You both fell backwards, giggling as your bodies hit the bed. At once, you both closed your eyes just basking in each other's body heat and feeling your breath on one another's skin.

Your legs dangled off the bed, and when you realized, you pulled them up and curled into Max. He just hummed softly, placing a kiss on the top of your head. It would be so easy to just fall asleep. To just postpone this until later. What if you both just…

“Hey.” He whispered.

You blinked slowly, taking in the now different view. The two of you were now laying normally on your bed, your body being held by Max still. It was raining pretty hard outside. You could hear it clearly through your open window. The lamp was off now and the alarm clock on your desk read 4:55 AM. You remembered it being only midnight.

“Hi.” You whispered back. Max drew stars on your cheek, smiling as you looked up at him with gleaming eyes. You were always so amazed by him, it didn’t take a scientist to figure that out. He could honestly say that he felt the same about you.

“We fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” You tucked your head into his chest. His shirt smelled of sunscreen and salt. “I guess we did.”

“Do you feel alright?”

You just nodded, not pulling your face away from his body. He, however, reached his hand under your chin, pulling your face just a few inches below his. Even in the dark you could see the outline of his features. You could see his lips, his beautiful eyes, his nose, his messy hair. As you studied his face, he studied yours. It was like you both got lost in one another. These moments had been more frequent lately. You enjoyed every second of them.

“If you want something, Max,” You smirked, inching closer. “Just ask.”

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “Can I kiss you?”

“Anytime.”

It happened in a flash, his lips connected to yours in a rushed haze. His hand came to the small of your back pulling your pelvis into his. His other hand gripped the back of your head with such force that a small moan slipped into the kiss. Max loved it. He wanted you to do it again and again. You remained like this for only a few seconds before he flipped you onto your back, pulling away as he did so.

“God,” He whispered. “You look so good. How’d I get so lucky?”

You just looked away, hiding underneath your arm. Max pulled it away, insisting that he wanted to admire your blissed out look. The rain picked up outside. You felt so happy that you could cry. This was a moment you’d been wanting with Max since you were a teenager. Honestly, this made you have a hopeful outlook for the future. He wouldn’t have sex with you then just leave. Surely this was the beginning of something new, something you’d wanted for years.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

You nodded, lifting your arms straight up so he could slide it off. “Now yours,” You instructed.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your body was humming in pure ecstasy as his bare skin was flush against yours. He stared at you for a few seconds, looking at your face, then your body, then your lips. He was practically drooling as he consumed the image before him. Not only was this a dream come true for you, but it was for him, too. He’d always had eyes for you, he’d always wanted to feel and kiss you. As much as he was your first crush, you were his. His first kiss was also you, even though he lied at the time and said he’d been with plenty of girls. He was determined to do things right this time, to not be idiotic or selfish, to not be doubtful or despondent.

Max kissed your neck before moving down to place small kisses on your chest. They were quick, his lips moving to another spot only seconds after attaching to the first. “Max,” You moaned, hand entwined in his hair. “Give me more.”

He looked up, a smile on his face. “More?”

You nodded. “More.”

-

“We’re going to be late!” Your mom yelled from down the hall.

Right, this was not what you were supposed to be doing. “Max, we gotta go.” You gasped, pulling away from him.

Max frowned, adjusting his tie as you walked to your desk to reapply your jewelry. “I was having fun.”

The ‘fun’ he was talking about was having you pushed into the wall of your bedroom as the two of you feverishly made out. This had become rather common in the past few days. Ever since the night on the yacht, the dynamic between the two of you had changed from best friends with a mutual crush to best friends with benefits. Max used these benefits every chance he got. Even if it was ten minutes before a big formal charity ball.

You stepped in front of the mirror to admire your outfit. A long, skin tight, wine-red dress clung to your body. There was a slit up the left leg. Your hair was up, your makeup was done perfectly, you were flawless. Max stepped into the mirror, too, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You look stunning, baby.” Max whispered in your ear. Your skin began to rise with chills. “So good.”

“You do too, Max.” You turned to kiss him on the cheek. He wore a black suit and tie, but somehow he made the simple outfit look so complex, so elegant, so royal. “Let's go.”

He opened your door for you, extending an arm as you walked by. When the two of you walked down the stairs, everyone looked. It truly was like two members of a royal family were walking into the room. Your dad whistled, your mom and Max’s pulled out their phones to take photos, Victoria smiled, holding onto her husband, Luca and Mia shared-concerning glances? Mia-without a doubt-looked worried. Like, next level worried. Cat just got hit by a car worried.

“You two look phenomenal.” Sophie said.

“Thanks, mom.” Max responded.

The eleven of you were all dressed to impress. The cameras would surely find their way to you, tonight. This charity ball was something you attended every summer, but now that Max was a celebrity who had millions of people watching his every move, cameras were going to be present. So, you all took a little extra time to look good. Luca wondered if any girls would see his photo and ask about him. Max boosted his ego and said, “Maybe.”

When you all got there, the venue was packed. A small, round table had the name cards for you, Max, your siblings and Victoria’s family. Your parents and Sophie were elsewhere, sitting at a table with high-end contributors who were older than dust.

You were on one side of Max, his brother-in-law was on the other. Mia was on the opposite side of the table and still she carried this worrying look. Was she sick? “Mia?” You asked. “Are you alright?”

“I-um,” She looked at Max. He looked away, tapping on the table to get his little nephew's attention. “Yes. I am ok.”

“Are you sure? I can drive you home.”

“Yes, y/n. I’m alright.”

Odd. All night she would furrow her brows, frown, sigh or just be overall sad whenever you and Max whispered in each others ears, whenever his hand came to rest on your knee, whenever he fed you a piece of food, whenever you leaned into his shoulder while laughing. Luca began leaning into her, whispering something that you couldn’t quite hear.

“So, Max. You leave soon, right?” She started up.

He cleared his throat, setting his napkin on the table. “I do, yeah. Four days.”

Your heart began to pang in your chest. How could you have forgotten? The three weeks Max spent with you were almost up. You two would have to go your own ways now. You were hopeful, however. This hurt way less than the first time it happened.

“What comes next for,” Mia waved her hand between the two of you. “This?”

You sighed. Why was she being so rude? “Mia-”

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

She sipped from her wine glass, setting it back down with such force that a bit splashed out over the side. “When you go back to Monaco and she goes back to the states. What happens then? Are you gonna break her heart again?”

“Mia! Enough.” You corrected her. “What is your problem tonight-you know what, no. Not even tonight. You’ve been a bitch to Max for the past week. Why?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you explain, Max.” She turned her whole body to face Luca who sat to her right. “Or you can explain, Luca.”

Luca almost spit out his water. “Me?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You slowly turned to look at Max. His hand came from off your thigh to the wine glass in front of him. He downed the last of the red liquid, almost as if he was refusing to speak.

“Nobody? No takers?” Mia proceeded. “Fine then, I’ll tell y/n.”

At that moment, at that table, your summer crumbled. No longer would the sun feel as warm, would the beach feel as calming, would Elba feel as homely, would Max feel so wonderful. All the worries you had, all the wonders that plagued your mind, all of the what ifs, all of the maybes-everything came crashing down. Everything became a slew of nevers, of goodbyes, of I would just rather forget you’s.

Mia sighed. “Y/n, Luca bet Max that he wouldn’t be able to kiss you this summer. And he took it.”

“He bet what?” You asked. “What do you mean?”

“At dinner on the first night you got up to go to the bathroom. When you were gone, Luca bet Max one hundred dollars that he couldn’t get you to kiss him. Max took the bet and said that he could make it happen.”

Oh. So, was it real? Was any of it real? The first night after dinner when he sat next to you by the pool, was he just trying to win the bet? When he stayed home to watch the sunrise with you, was he just trying to win the bet? When he apologized, was it just a step in his plan to win the bet? Wherever you and him would ride together in his car, go to the beach together, play games together, fall asleep on the couch together-was it for his bet? When you first kissed, did he feel good because of you or because he knew he beat Luca?

“Max,” You practically whispered. “Tell me she’s lying.”

He said nothing. There was now this deafening silence hanging over the table. You felt sick. Why wouldn’t Max just look at you and say that it was fake, that Mia was making shit up?

“Max, please.” You begged. Tears formed in your eyes. “Why wont you say anything?”

“It’s true.” Was all he said. He didn’t look at you, he looked at Luca. So you looked at Luca. He hung his head as soon as you made eye contact with him.

“How could you-why did you-Mia. How’d you find out?” Was your next question.

“Luca was playing video games with one of his friends talking about it,” She said. “And I overheard it and made him explain it all.”

“Luca, how could you do that to me?” Your voice was so quiet, so close to breaking. “You’re my brother.”

“Y/n, I-”

You stood up, chair scratching the floor as you did so. With quick, long steps, you darted out of the dining venue. Mia was quick to follow. Max didn’t get up, neither did Luca. Not that you cared anymore. There was one thing you wanted and it wasn’t an apology from anyone, it was the first flight back to New York.

You’d done it again. He’d done it again.

Max Verstappen once again had broken your heart and didn't bother to watch you cry or attempt to apologize.

How foolish of you to fall once again.

[sixpennydame]

North Star ✶ Chapter 10

A Levi Ackerman x oc slow burn

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Just one kiss, can change everything between you and Levi.

My dearest Martin,

Remember when we were small, and I’d follow you around everywhere? I used to trail behind you like a lost puppy, but you never scolded me. You’d just smile, take my hand, and lead me to wherever you were going. 

Throughout my whole life, whenever I reached out my hand, you were there. 

These past three years, I wondered how I could go on without you, knowing that when I reached out, you wouldn’t be there. The world felt colder, and I felt so alone.

But you told me I have more to do, more life to live, so I’m going to do that. This past year, I’ve learned that I’m not alone and that I’m stronger than I thought. 

Thank you for always having faith in me, when I didn’t have faith in myself. 

I’ll see you again, in another time, another place.

Love, 

Catherine

——- ✶ ——-

Your hand was warm in his, your lips even warmer as you kissed one cheek, then the other. Levi thought his heart would jump out of his chest, it was pounding so furiously. He’d looked at your face hundreds of times in the last several months, but right now, with the light of the early dawn on your face, he thought it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you. His eyes glance down at your lips - he wants to feel them on his skin again, he yearns for it. 

You don’t move. He doesn’t either. The most he can manage is a light caress of your face, but it’s not enough. There’s an energy between your two bodies, urging him to move closer, to press his lips against yours.

All he has to do is move.

His head inches forward. First, a brush of his nose against yours, but then he tilts slightly and he’s kissing you like you are the most delicate porcelain. 

And you don’t back away, you simply lean in, your other hand moving up to press lightly against his chest. His free hand moves to your waist; he wants so badly to pull you against him, to kiss every inch of you.

When your lips finally separate, he doesn’t know if seconds or minutes have passed. 

It’s the sharp pain shooting through his knee that pulls him back to reality. He blinks once, then twice, and sees you there, in front of him, your eyes flitting open. 

What have I done?

“Levi..” Your voice is soft. Sweet. But the way his name hangs in the air, he’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse.

Say something, you idiot.

His head is spinning, his heart pumping. He needs to take a step back and reevaluate what is happening here. Afraid of what you might say next, he speaks.

“I…”

I think I’m in love with you.

I have never felt this way before.

I need to know if you feel the same way.

“...I should go check on the horses. Who knows if Mathieu is even sober enough to do it.” He backs away from you. “And you should get some rest.”

He walks to the washroom and while splashing his face with cold water, he hears the door to your room click shut. Maybe it’s the cold, but his knee has been bothering him more lately; it probably didn’t help that he was on his feet practically all night. Wiping his face with a towel, he looks at himself in the mirror; the deep scars running down his cheek, his useless and clouded eye. And then there are the scars not visible on the surface, the feelings of loss and pain. His body and heart have paid the price for his sacrifice, broken in so many ways beyond repair.

He touches the jagged, uneven scar on his lips and wonders why you’d returned his kiss. Maybe you felt sorry for him. Maybe you saw it as an obligation, after all he’s done.

Because really, who would want someone so broken?

——- ✶ ——-

Your lips are still warm and tingly from the kiss as you fall onto your bed, your mind ablaze with thoughts that you know will make it impossible to go to sleep. There’s a door in your room that leads to the washroom and you can hear him there, just on the other side of the wall. 

What would happen if you just opened it and told him how you felt? That slowly throughout the months, your feelings of friendship have turned into something more. Something that you haven’t felt in years, and you can’t imagine feeling with anyone else but him. 

Is this love?

It’s a strange sensation, opening your heart to another; there’s a tinge of guilt there as you think of Martin. He told you to love again, but this…

…is that what this is?

It’s almost too terrifying to think about. Martin was the first and only person you’d ever loved, and it had never even crossed your mind that you could care for someone else to the same degree, much less fall in love again.

You laugh. Listen to yourself - it was just an innocent kiss, probably nothing more.

But oh, how wonderful it was. Slow and soft, and when his hand went to your waist you’d wanted him to pull you in tighter. You’d leaned in, lips slightly parted, inviting his tongue to mingle with yours. Why did he pull away? And if he hadn’t, what might have happened next?

A heavy sigh escapes your mouth. You feel like a schoolgirl again with a first crush. Everything feels newer, brighter.

There’s a shuffling and then you hear the door open and close, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he walks to his bedroom. There’s still time to tell him how you feel.

Your feet pad silently down the hallway as you stand in front of his bedroom door. You take a deep breath and just as you raise your fist to knock - 

– There’s a loud, abrupt pounding on the front door.

You rush to the door and Annika stands before you, hair disheveled and makeup smudged from a night of holiday revelry. But you can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s not here to drunkenly wish a Happy New Year.

“Annika, is something the matter?”

“Is Levi here?” 

Levi joins the two of you in the entryway, limping slightly. You both look down to see that he’s wearing a brace of some kind around his knee. The thick material wraps around his leg, held together by leather laces. 

Annika frowns. “What’s going on there?”

“An old war injury. When it gets bad, I put this on.”

“You should let me check it.” Annika moves towards him curiously.

“No thanks,” he counters, then rushes to take the focus off of him. “What did you need me for?”

Annika’s face turns from curiosity over Levi’s leg to worry.

“It’s Mathieu.”

——- ✶ ——-

“Dumbass…” Levi says, arms crossed.

Looking down at Mathieu, sprawled out on a sofa in Annika’s family home, you’re prone to agree with Levi. “How exactly did this happen?”

“Well, Oleg said he could race me down to the town square. Perhaps I’d had too much to drink…I slipped and fell forward…”

He lifts up his two bandaged arms, both in makeshift slings.

“...and he broke both of his elbows,” Annika cuts in. “He’ll be unable to use his arms for at least six weeks.”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Six weeks…I suppose that puts me in charge of the stables for the time being.”

“Or longer,” Annika interjects again. “It really depends on how quickly he heals. And he’ll need help with other things, like getting dressed, cooking..” she looks away to keep from laughing at the whole ridiculous situation, “...relieving himself.”

Mathieu has no immediate family, no next of kin, no one to help him through this time. But Mursa’s a tight-knit community and people look out for each other; you’d be happy to help him out.

“Why don’t you come live at my place for a while?” you ask. “I have an extra room, and then I can help with whatever you need.”

“And leave the stables? The horses? My home?” Mathieu’s face becomes defiant; you imagine he’d cross his arms in frustration, if he could.

Annika rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so stubborn. You can’t be by yourself.”

“I’ll look after him,” Levi says as he helps Mathieu off the sofa. “Let’s just get you back to your place and we can figure the rest out.”

It’s a realization that you’ve slowly come to these past few months: that beneath his harsh words and intense scowls, Levi is incredibly caring. It’s not necessarily something he tries to hide, but it’s also not apparent to all. It’s a special part of his character that you really love about him.

Love…that word is becoming easily relatable to Levi these days.

“I can come and help out too.” You get on the other side of Mathieu.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking, thank you very much,” he huffs, shaking you both off of him. A bit of a loner, Mathieu’s a man who’s prided himself on his strength and independence. A bit headstrong too. You wonder if that’s why he had Annika bring Levi over. The two men are truly one of a kind.

Mathieu looks at the brace on Levi’s leg and his heavy limp. “Look at us – like the blind leading the blind.” He laughs.

“Don’t test me, old man,” Levi warns, “you don’t need any more broken bones.”

 ——- ✶ ——-

By the time you and Levi get Mathieu back to his home, the morning sun had moved over the mountains and was now shining brightly over the valley. The old, creaky home is cold and quiet, and you get a fire going while Levi helps the old man out of his clothes.

“Oi, did you bathe in alcohol all night? You reek.” You can hear Levi’s voice from down the hall.

“I guess you’re gonna have to help me bathe then, Nurse Levi.” Mathieu cackles.

It makes you laugh too, listening to them bicker. “You two argue like an old married couple,” you yell their way.

“Ow! Be gentle!” Mathieu whines. “Married? If this is your tender touch, Levi, then I pity any woman you ever marry.”

You’ve felt Levi’s touch, and it is tender. You can still feel his calloused fingers running across your jaw, lifting your lips to his. You wonder what it would feel like for him to take your clothes off, to run his hands over your body as you lay in a bathtub.  

“Just stop talking and get in the damn bathtub! Keep your arms above the water!” Levi’s tone is strict, but you can hear the care in his voice, as if he’s reprimanding a child.

Even his stern voice is turning you on right now.

Catherine, pull yourself together!

It seems that one little kiss has set your mind and heart ablaze. You wonder if Levi feels the same.

There’s no knowing until you get a free moment to talk to him.

You busy yourself with making breakfast while Levi bathes Matheiu and helps him get dressed, desperate to do anything to get your mind off the kiss. Yet, as the three of you eat, Levi barely looks at you. In fact, he’s barely acknowledged you at all this whole morning. 

Once Matheiu is in his bed, Levi helps you with washing dishes, still in awkward silence.

“I better get out to the stables. There’s lots to do now,” he says on his way out of the kitchen.

“Let me help you.”

“No. I don’t want you exhausting yourself. You’ve worked too hard to recover this past week, and I don’t want you getting sick again. Go get some rest.”

There’s that stern but caring voice, now directed at you. You know there’s no arguing with him once he has that tone.

“Alright, but can we talk later?” You attempt to keep your voice cool and neutral, but there’s no hiding the expectation in your eyes.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “Sure. Later,” then turns to leave.

 ——- ✶ ——-

Levi knows exactly what you want to talk about. He could see it in your eyes all morning. But these romantic feelings - the whole situation - is such foreign territory to him. Not that he hadn’t had experiences with women before; there’d been stolen kisses in dark alleys in The Underground, and desperate make-out sessions before a mission, just to feel alive. But this was different with you. It was the first time in his life that he wanted more. 

He hadn’t thought any of this through clearly yet; kissing you wasn’t exactly in the plans, and yet..

And yet, it had felt so right at the time, he can’t deny that. 

It also felt selfish. He doesn’t deserve you. 

You deserve someone who can make you truly happy, who can protect and take care of you. At his age and with his injuries, it’s more likely that you’d be taking care of him. 

The pain shooting through his leg reminds him of his inadequacies as he puts clean hay in the horses’ troughs. It’s a constant reminder of the strength he once had, now long gone. 

And he’s made peace with that. He knows he’s not Humanity’s Strongest anymore - he doesn’t want to be. But who is he now? And when you look at him, what do you see?

Probably just some pathetic, old soldier, he thinks. And you’re so beautiful, and young, with so much more life to live. 

Demon whinnies at Levi, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Feeling restless too, are you?” he asks, petting Demon along the bridge of his nose. “What do you say we burn some frustrated energy in the indoor arena?”

Levi harnesses Demon and gets on his back, careful not to put too much pressure on his knee. He can feel Demon’s need to zip through the snow and across the frozen meadow, but his firm grip on the reins keeps the spirited stallion in control. 

The indoor arena wasn’t far from the stables and was a considerable size - perfect for keeping the horses healthy and energized during the long, snowy winter. Mathieu was once one of the best racehorse breeders and trainers in Southern Marley, as he often bragged to Levi, and it was his dream to have his sons take over the business someday. But when his sons were conscripted in the Marleyan army to fight in one of the many battles against the Mid-East Allied Forces years ago, they never returned. Still, he kept the training facilities clean and ready, as if he was prepared for them to return at any moment. 

That refusal to let his grief overtake him, even in the most difficult of circumstances, was something Levi respected in Mathieu.

He and Demon start at a slow walk, working in and around some barrels placed in various parts of the barn. They weave in and out, Demon snorting impatiently.

“I know, but let’s get warmed up first.” Levi says to Demon as they go into a trot, then finally, a canter. 

The arena is big enough for Levi to run Demon at a full gallop, and soon they’re racing around the perimeter. The cold air whips at Levi’s face, waking him up and making him more alert. He empties his mind and lets his body work with Demon’s; he’s ridden him long enough that it seems they both read each other’s minds, each muscle twitch a tell-tale sign of what the other is thinking. 

Riding horses is one of the few times Levi feels whole again, the adrenaline coursing through his body as he works purely on instinct with the animal. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel like he’s flying through the air with ODM gear again.

Energy sufficiently spent, Demon slows to a prance as horse and rider return to the stable. The other horses neigh, anxious for their turn. “Ok, ok, you’ll all get a chance,” Levi concedes, unsaddling Demon.

When Levi returns to the house, he finds Mathieu up and sitting in front of the large picture window overlooking the stables. “You should be resting, old man.”

“This is resting, and it is driving me crazy,” Mathieu whines. “It’s gonna be a long two months.

“For you and me both.” Levi warms his hands by the fire, the flames’ illumination showing a deep contentment on his face.

“You didn’t have to ride every horse today, you know,” Mathieu says.

“I know that. But I enjoyed it, and they all needed to stretch their legs.”

“Speaking of legs…” Mathieur looks at the brace on Levi’s knee, “...you gonna be ok?”

“I’m fine. Or as fine as I’m ever gonna be.”

“And you can ride with that brace on?”

“Yeah, it’s not too big a deal. And it’s not like I need it all the time.”

Suddenly there’s a spark in Mathieu’s eyes. He leans forward. “Have you given any more thought to letting me train you and Demon for racing?” Levi is silent, contemplative. “I’ll make a deal with you: I’m obviously going to need someone here with me ‘round the clock while I’m,” he looks down at his arms, “incapacitated. If you’ll stay here and help me out, I’ll provide you a room, training, and even sponsor and pay for your first race.” Levi still doesn’t say a word, just crosses his arms and looks at the man across from him. “Come on…that’s a pretty good deal,” Mathieu smiles, “and I know how much you love riding.”

The fire crackles as Levi thinks on it. Mathieu does need constant care right now and he would be here practically all the time anyway. But to be away from you..

Maybe that’s what’s needed right now, though; some time for him to step away and let things cool off. Without him constantly there and bothering you, you’ll see that the kiss was all a mistake, if you didn’t see it that way already. After the rescue on the mountain and all that time spent together, of course feelings of friendship and romance would get misplaced. What you and he need is some space; it’s the best thing for both of you.

The best thing for you.

“Well,” Mathieu smirks, “what do ya say?”

 ——- ✶ ——-

When you arrived back home from Mathieu’s, you immediately dove onto your bed and fell asleep. It was one of those deep sleeps where, upon waking, it feels as if days, maybe weeks have gone by. It takes a few moments for you to remember where you are and what time it is. Only until you turn your head and see the picture of you and Martin next to your bed do you remember you’re back at home. For over three years, the photo of you and he on your wedding day has stood vigil on the altar next to your bed. Looking at the two smiling faces, your heart warms. 

…you should allow yourself to feel love again. Martin had told you on that mountain top. Did he really mean it?

 Love makes this whole world worth it.” 

“He’s nice, Martin. A little rough around the edges, but I think you’d really like him.”

There’s that guilt again, rearing its ugly head. Guilt that you’re moving on, that you’re finding happiness without him.

“But it’s just a crush. I’m not looking to fall in love,” you say out loud, less to Martin and more to yourself.

Because surely, this isn’t love.

It’s the rumbling of your stomach that finally gets you out of bed. The days are slowly getting longer but the winter sun has already started to set, making you realize that you need to start on dinner before Max, Albert, and Luka return. 

You’d just started on a potato soup when you hear the door open and the voices of the three young men filling the empty space around you. Although you had loved the time with only Levi, you’d missed their energy and smiling faces.

”Happy New Year!” Albert says gleefully, barreling into the kitchen and giving you a big hug. 

“And to you all as well!” you answer back as you give them each a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “It was so quiet here without you.”

“I’m sure it was. I doubt all that alone time with Levi was very exciting. Did he even come out of his room?” Max asks, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

”I had a wonderful time with Levi. He..”

He kissed me. It was amazing. You want to cry out from the rooftops. 

“He helped me clean and accompanied me to some New Year’s Eve parties. It was fun.”

The heat of your blushing cheeks makes you turn your back to the three. “But other than that it was a quiet week.” You busy your hands with cutting potatoes and carrots. “Enough about me. I want to hear all about your time back home.”

While you cook, they tell you stories of their towns and neighborhoods: the friends they saw and their family traditions. Their tales continue as you eat, and you listen intently, but all the while noting that Levi hasn’t yet returned home.

It’s late into the evening when you finally hear the doorknob to the front door turn. You’re reading in the sitting room and listening to music on the gramophone with the others as he enters, giving a nod when everyone wishes him a Happy New Year.

“I hear you’re taking care of Old Man Mathieu for a few weeks,” Max says.

”Yeah. It’s not like he has anyone else.”

”He has all of us,” you remind him. “I can go over with you every morning and help out.”

”About that,” Levi says, shifting his weight off of his knee and running his hand through his hair. “I’ve decided I’m going to live at Mathieu’s for the time being. At least until he recovers.” The record has stopped playing and it’s suddenly become quiet in the room. “If I’m having to work double time at the stables, I might as well just stay there and help him with other things too. I mean, the man can’t even shit by himself.”

“Oh..” the word escapes your mouth before you know it. Did Levi notice how sad it sounded? 

You reprimand yourself for your reaction. Mathieu needs help, and Levi is willing to do that. It’s admirable. “That’s good of you to do that, Levi. Of course, it’s the right thing to do.”

“Well then, I should pack a few things and get back over there.” He nods again and walks to his room.

You wait expectantly for an invitation to join him. You’ve been imagining the conversation all evening:

“Catherine, can we talk in my room? Privately?”

The three younger men look at each other, before Albert speaks up. “We should probably be getting to bed anyway.” 

You follow Levi to his room, your heart thumping loudly. As you stand in the doorway, he closes the door, brushing so close to you that you can feel his breath move across your neck. He stands to face you.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you…about this morning,” you say.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” he’d reply, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. He kisses you again, this time, fully and confidently.

Perhaps you don’t even make it to your room that night.

It gives you butterflies just thinking about it. But as minutes pass, you realize that he’s not going to call for you. The minutes inch by, until Albert, Max, and Luka say their good nights and retire to their rooms. Only then do you decide to take the initiative. You can’t keep wondering any longer.

You walk over to his door and knock. “Levi, can I come in?”

He opens the door and gestures for you to enter. You do so, nervously. 

You wait, but he continues to pack his bag.

Time to be brave, Catherine. 

“Levi, I want to talk about…” your hands are sweaty and clutched at your sides as you take a quick breath, “...about this morning.”

“Right…” Levi takes his own breath. 

You can do this. You can tell him how you feel!

He stops packing to look at you. “There’s no need to talk about it.”

Your heart is beating fast, wanting him to move closer, to touch you.

“It was a mistake,” he says, bluntly.

Levi isn’t one to mince words; he gets to the point, you know that. But the way he says it - so coldly, it makes your stomach drop.

And all that excitement, that expectation, comes crumbling down around you.

“You’re my friend, Catherine. Nothing more. That kiss…was a lapse in judgment.” He looks away. “I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

A mistake. A lapse in judgment. The words cut like a knife.

“Right,” you finally reply, after a few stunned, silent moments. “Right…a mistake. It absolutely was.” 

A part of you actually believes that. The other part, however…

You mask your feelings with a smile. “There’s no harm done, Levi. We’re still friends.” You pat his arm, lingering there just a little bit before pulling back. Everything feels awkward now. “Let’s just pretend like it never happened.”

There’s no point in telling him how you feel now; he’s made his feelings known loud and clear, and you’d obviously read everything wrong. What a fool you’ve been.

He looks into your eyes again, as if he’s trying to read what you’re really saying, how you really feel. “Right.” His own eyes soften, and it looks as if he’s going to say something, but stops himself. “I should get back over there,” he finally says, “Mathieu can barely wipe his own ass now without my help.”

You stifle a breathy laugh. “You probably should.”

The two of you walk to the door and Levi hauls his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll come by later for the rest of my things. You can rent out my room during that time, if you need to.”

You clutch at the sweater over your shoulders as he opens the door. The outside air suddenly feels colder, crueler.

“That’s your room, Levi. It’ll be waiting for you to return.” You search his face for some kind of reaction, but it’s only cold indifference. “You are coming back, right?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he answers, but there’s a tone that makes you feel like he’s unsure. 

Everything feels so unsure now.

“Goodnight, Catherine.” He walks into the darkness of the snowy night, leaving you standing in the doorway.

You thought the kiss was going to change everything for you and he, and it did. Just not in the way you’d wanted.

You blink away tears and close the door.

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[deartouya]

THE SUN ON YOUR SKIN — BAKUGOU

✶ summary: katsuki's always loved nature and being outside, an activity which is only made better in your company.

✶ pairing: pro hero!katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

✶ word count: 1k

✶ warnings: mentions of food/eating, incredibly self-indulgent. i started thinking about katsuki + nature and how he likes the sun and hiking and it made me so !! and i wrote this <3. i've been writing this for like. four months and still kinda hate it so. i'm sorry.

The air’s getting colder as you move deeper into the forest, the sun barely dipping from behind the trees and autumn just starting to melt into winter—the smell of it, crisp and sharp, heavy in the air. You’ve made it past the hardest part, past the uneven and sun-bleached rocks at the base of the trail and the path studded with hooked roots and shallow holes. This will probably be your last hike of the year, and you can barely keep yourself awake for it.

The ground grinds beneath your boots, brittle leaves and frost bitten earth a sign of the impending season change. You’re deep in the forest now, the tangy scent of dirt and the freshness of pine heavy and thick in the air. It’s nice—quiet, content: nothing but you, Katsuki, and the distant sounds of birds.

The sun has started to rise, slinking from behind the shadow of the mountain and casting the forest in soft warmth. Lush greenery brushes against your knees, curling around your ankles as you lead Katsuki up the path.

You scrub fruitlessly at your face, tucking your now empty thermos back in your backpack, “I was hoping that’d wake me up a bit before we reached the peak.” You sound annoyed, huffy, and you can hear Katsuki tsk from behind you.

He scoffs, shoulder knocking against your own, “maybe if you’d slept on the way here like I told ‘ya too, you’d me more coherent.” Despite the roughness, despite the way his fingers pinch at your hip, he hands you his thermos—warm between your palms and catered to your tastes. “Now stop your complainin’. Nearly at the end of the trail.”

You smile, leaning into the hand he smooths across your back as you tuck his thermos back in his bag, “thank you, Ki.”

He stays beside you this time, the broad expanse of a palm pressed into your back as you fall back into step. Katsuki likes this more than he’d ever admit, taking time away from the agency to spend with you. Even as he has to hover behind you and catch you when you trip and let you drink over half of his thermos because you drank yours before the first mile. He likes taking care of you, of having you rely on him.

“We’re nearly there, dummy,” he nudges you again, “we’ll eat that piss poor lunch you made then head back down.” 

You gasp, loud and exaggerated, and halt the both of you in the middle of the trail, “how dare you! I go out of my way to make you sandwiches and you insult my effort! We’ll see if I ever cook for you again, you jerk.” 

Katsuki grins wider when you huff, arms crossing tight across your chest. It grows even more when you're caught under his arm, tugged against his side as you continue to sigh petulantly. “Awww, I’m sorry, baby, I’m sure your sandwiches will be fine—can't be worse than some of the shit half and half tries to cook.” 

It’s a half-compliment at most, but it makes the faux annoyance slip off your face and let him tug you along with him. Content and quiet as you make the rest of the climb. He doesn’t let you slip away from him, keeping a steadying hand on your hips or shoulders, a soft and comforting weight. His hand slips into yours, fingers weaving tight as he guides you up the last of the trail. 

Your legs have just begun to ache when the path finally opens up, revealing the rocky ledge and sprawling trees before it. The perfect place to settle down and eat and watch as the sun settles in the sky. Though, you don’t end up doing much sight-seeing once he settles beside you. 

Katsuki reminds you so wholly of the sun—warm and bright and all-consuming.  

You think he looks best in it, when he’s nestled somewhere beautiful, when he’s surrounded by light and warmth and the smell of the trees. He looks most himself surrounded by beautiful things and with the sun on his skin.

He can feel the weight of your eyes, heavy on him as he peels a pair of oranges. His fingers are gentle, prying thick peels away from soft fruit, and his eyes are sharp and focused. It’s sweet. Sweeter than the juice that runs down his forearms, making him scrunch his nose in annoyance. 

Katsuki huffs when he finally acknowledges your staring, the corners of his lips twitching as he suppresses a smile, “tch, you done starin’ now?” He doesn’t let you answer though, hand tugging impatiently on your own, “c’mere.” 

You let him pull you into his side, tucked beneath a heavy arm and head cradled against his collar. Let him hand feed you slices of fruit, soft and tangy on your tongue. He smells nice, cloying yet sharp—the overwhelming scent of smoke and the sweetness of cologne. It fits him, you think, something that takes root in your chest and pulls. A smell that you can always sense—sweet and dark and him it makes you dizzy. 

Katsuki lifts your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss across your knuckles. You're sticky with juice and sweat but he doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you, fingers intertwined, tight against his chest as he watches you, “thank you.” 

You hum, high and questioning, as you rake a hand through his bangs. He chases the touch, lips skimming the thin skin of your wrist, “for what?” 

“Comin’ with me today.” It’s more than that, you can see it in the softness of his eyes and the way he lets himself smile—unabashedly adoring and syrupy sweet. 

“Don’t need to thank me, Katsuki.” You’re silent for a beat, eyes soft and adoring before something clicks. Then, you grin and he can feel himself preparing to groan. “But, I think you should carry me on the way down this time. Y’know as a thank you.” 

He laughs, a sharp scoff that devolves into something easier, eyes bright as a hand comes to ruffle your hair, “in your dreams, dumbass.” 

tags: @call-me-ko ; @michabun-uwu ; @maplesuna ; @smashboxgirl26 ; @boo-kugo ; @dinodumbass ; @uwuthatshit ; @sugarmaplewings-fics ; @violetdahlias ; @hirugummies ; @dukina ; @trashy-bowtie ; @scarekat ;

[strangerquinns]

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 19

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.3k+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist

** warning: chapter contains smut. mdni, thank you***

“They are camped out at the old Star Court Mall,” Enzo explained while his fingers moved across the map in front of him, circling an area toward the north. “A few of them stayed back and watched as the rest of the group filtered from Redding, which is only fifteen miles northeast. Seems they were like us and looting for supplies.”

You nervously bit on your nails as you listened to the man talk, noticing the slight hint of accent the more he spoke. Russian? Maybe. The cafeteria had been turning into a headquarters ever since Hopper broke the news to the rest of the camp of his plans. The majority agreed with what he planned; a small percentage disagreed. In the last few days, more runs were being taken with the need for supplies. Smaller groups so to be discreet in case they were to come across the radical group.

“That’s a risk to take on that large of a building,” Hopper spoke, his thick brows pulled tightly together with a pensive look.

“Flayed aren’t really out that way, too far North.” Enzo spoke “Not enough…resources.”

“This group is going to draw more this way,” Steve spoke up. “They brought a pack in with them in Redding.”

“Multiple packs.” You spoke, causing a few of the heads to snap toward you. “It’s like feeding off the chaos, the thrill of picking the Flayed off one by one as they moved through.”

“These people sound like monsters.” Joyce Byers spoke from the seat to the left of Hopper.

“That would be a good description.” You nodded, your teeth biting at the nails and sore skin around them.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Hopper spoke, grabbing the mug he’d been sipping on all day, “Let’s regroup in the morning. I’m sure we all could use a break.”

One by one people began to spill out of the room, small groups of people talking amongst themselves and lingering behind. Eddie walked across the room toward you and quickly wrapped an arm around you, pulling you tightly against his side.

You leaned into him and sighed softly with your arms wrapping around him as well. The two of you just stood there for a moment in silence before Eddie pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt the calloused touch of his thumb against your cheek as your eyes closed gently. His touch - it was a soft relief to the worry that was clouding your brain.

“You want to get out of here?” Eddie spoke gently causing you to open your eyes slowly. His dark eyes were focused solely on you. Eddie was so close you were able to nearly count the freckles that danced across his face.

“Where would we go?” You questioned with your brows pulling together with slight confusion. “Not many places for us to go.”

“Leave base for a little bit. Not too far, but enough for us to clear our heads…have some alone time.” Eddie shrugged. “Think the both of us need it?”

“Ok,” You nodded before he stepped back and threaded his fingers with yours.

The two of you slipped out of the room quickly with the last few before leaving out of the main building. Many of the others returned to their normal work and routine. The camp was buzzing as people prepared for the colder months that were quickly approaching. It seemed every morning was colder than the last and fewer trees had leaves on them. You and Eddie stopped at his trailer for a few things before leaving out of the main gate. Your fingers brushed against the knife you kept sheathed to your waist as you quietly ventured through the woods.

The forest surrounding the Lab was quiet in a serene sort of way. But with the two of you still staying vigilant. It felt nice to be away from the noise of the Camp. Of not feeling the eyes of others on you as you moved about.

It wasn’t long till the two of you hit a residential street. Small cabins and homes are dilapidated and crumbling along a pebbled road. A few mailboxes were rusted with the faint memory of numbers and words along the sides. It was a shell of what it once was with time frozen. Cars still parked in driveways with people's items scattered across the lawns with broken glass.

“It’s a ghost town,” You spoke as you walked beside Eddie, your eyes moving from one side of the street to another.

“Yeah,” He sighed heavily “It’s weird, over time it’s like we’re not able to recognize what was anymore. Spent our entire lives in this town…and some places…just…gone.”

“You go through the town a lot?” You asked.

“Sometimes, we have to go in and clear out the Flayed that stumble out from the city, or wherever else the fuck they come from.” Eddie shrugged. “It gets harder with each trip. Seeing it all just die away.”

“Well, where are you taking me?” You asked, reaching over, and grasping his hand.

Eddie smirked slightly and gave your hand a squeeze, “You’ll see.”

He tugged on your arm slightly and pulled you down along the road a little more, the two of you picking up the pace the farther you got. When the two of you turned down another street, and you saw the white house pushed back into the woods with the boat house behind it, you quickly realized where the two of you were.

“Holy shit.” You gasped and stopped short in front of the house, Eddie laughing slightly as you stared at the moss and vine-covered home. “How the fuck…how did…”

“I was as shocked as you, sweetheart,” Eddie spoke before moving toward the front porch. “You comin’?”

You hesitated for a moment as you looked around the surrounding area, hearing the creak of the wood beneath Eddie’s feet and hesitating for a moment. A rush of memories came at you as you stared at the small home. It was like the ruin it had fallen into wasted away and instead, the version you remember was before you. Along with the sounds of heavy metal music and the heavy smell of weed.

“It going to be safe for us to be in there?” You questioned, your eyes darting toward the warped wood Eddie stood on.

“I was here not that long ago,” Eddie spoke, reaching up to move his curls from his face. “Actually, was here right before you found us.”

That was nearly over a month ago easily. It was odd to think of how much time had passed.

You crossed the front lawn and onto the porch with Eddie, crowding behind him quickly as he pulled open the front door. You didn’t miss it as Eddie grabbed his knife and slowly walked into the home. You stayed close behind as he did a quick sweep of the small home.

Reefer Rick's place was small to where you could stand at the front door and see every inch of the place. The dining room table was right to the left of the door, now knocked against the wall with the chairs. The kitchen is immediately to the left with layers of dust on every surface. The house had a thick smell of dust and something wet. Less than ten steps forward and you were in the living room. The cushion of the couch laid across the floor with a scattering of blankets and a pillow. You didn’t miss the empty beer bottles that covered the surface of the coffee table and an ashtray.

“Stay here, I’m going to search the bedroom and bathroom,” Eddie spoke, moving to take a step away from you, but stopping short as you tugged on the back of his jacket. He looked back at you with a questioning look.

“Going alone isn’t smart, ever.” You shook your head, “I’m right behind you.”

Eddie hesitated for a second, before nodding his head and continuing forward.

Eddie kept his steps short and tight with his arm raised, and knife ready if needed. You couldn’t hear anything but both of your shallow breaths as you stepped into the bedroom. It was empty. Just an unkempt bed with faded blue sheets and a dresser with the drawers ripped out and everything scattered on the floor.

“Nothing.”

The two of you did the same for the bathroom and came up empty. Eddie double checked the back entrance before the two of you relaxed.

“This place looks like someone stays here,” You spoke, setting your back down on the table by the door.

“Yeah,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck. “I do…well, did sometimes.”

“Alone?” You asked with wide eyes, he nodded in confirmation. “Eddie! That’s not safe.”

“I never came without protection and always let Steve of Gareth know where I was. I just…this has become my place to just get peace.”

You nervously bit on your lip before moving around and walking toward the couch and pillows sitting on the floor. You grabbed the light fainted floral printed blanket and began to place the couch back together. Eddie moved around behind you with the soft thump of his pack hitting the floor. Your eyes scanned around the wood paneling and felt the memories rushing back to the times you were in high school.

“So weird…being back here…” You laughed lightly to yourself, watching as Eddie moved to sit beside you. Resting back against the couch.

“I wanted us to have a little alone time and just away from everything, and not at the trailer.” Eddie shrugged, a little bashful, with a little red on his cheeks as he stared at you.

“Is this a date or something?” You asked with a small giggle.

Eddie reached down into the pack he’d dropped on the floor and pulled out two beer bottles, an even more coy smile on his lips. “Maybe.”

“Munson” You shook your head and took the bottle from his hand after he opened it, the bottle barely having a chill. But you already knew it was going to be a bit sour.

“Know you’ve been a little down lately, especially after everything,” Eddie spoke with a slight shrug as you took a drink, fighting back the grimace as you felt the liquid against your tongue. “And I feel like we haven’t been able to fully talk about it ever since you got back.”

You frowned and looked down at your bottle, “Talking about things isn’t really a date idea that I would’ve come up with.”

Eddie reached over and gently caressed your cheek, causing you to look toward him again. His hand moved till it caressed the back of your neck and rubbed gently. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch and close your eyes softly, whimpering at the massaging pressure against your neck.

“I don’t want you taking this the wrong way,” Eddie started “But we spoke of speaking when we got back after the run. And we sort of have, but I think seeing Nancy die did something, and we didn’t really talk to each other.”

You sighed softly and took another drink from your bottle, “Is that a bad thing? I forgave you; I didn’t think there was more to talk about.”

“No. Just don’t want that if it causes you don’t want to deal with anything after what happened in Redding.”

You closed your eyes tightly and let out a small noise of anguish, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This, trying to…pull things out of me…make me talk about things I don’t want to talk about.”

“Because I love you,” Eddie spoke simply “And I hate seeing you hurting because it’s clear that you are. I hear your cries in your sleep. Your begging.”

You didn’t need to ask what begging, or who you were begging for. The nightmares were clear, and you knew them too well. They switched but were all the same. Memories of loss. Memories of pain.

“Nancy did trigger something.” You nodded your head “My mom, seeing that, brought it all back to the surface. And I didn’t want to talk about anything else because none of it mattered anymore. We are shown time and time again that life is short, way shorter than we think now with how the world is. We have all lost someone” You swallowed thickly. “So why waste time rehashing things that don’t matter anymore when I have you now?”

Eddie blinked a few times as he stared at you before whispering, “Fuck,” He exhaled loudly as if weight we being removed from his shoulders. “Sweetheart, when you say it like that…”

“I love you, Eddie. With every piece of my soul and heart, I’m yours. Nothing else matters. Nothing.”

You spoke with such honesty and conviction as you choked around the words, feeling the emotion as your heart pounded in your chest.

“I want to have my time with you filled with happiness and love as much as we can. That’s it.”

Eddie reached his hand forward and wiped the stray tear that moved down your cheek.

“That’s all I want with you too,” Eddie spoke, his dark brown eyes shining with tears. “I love you so, so much.”

You moved forward and set your drink down before reaching for him. Eddie barely had time to react, setting his to the side as well before you were on him. Your lips moved against his in a way that made you feel like the two of you were one. Bodies pressed tightly together with your hands caressing against the others. Your hand moved beneath his shirt needing to feel his skin. Eddie pulled you onto his lap with his hands spanning across your back and moving down.

Your lungs felt tight with the need for air, but you didn’t care.

All you wanted was Eddie. To feel him, taste him, melt into him.

There was no doubt in your mind that Eddie was the person who was made for you. Everything felt like chaos unless he was at your side.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against yours, hands moving frantically as you rushed to unbuckle his belt.

“I need you, please…” You whimpered with a soft whine, both of you panting as his hands moved with yours.

You watched as he quickly unbuckled his jeans as you stood to do the same. The two of you seemingly became more frantic as seconds passed. The moment your pants were kicked to the side, along with your underwear, you moved back to him. Your lips met with his in a kiss that was messy - teeth clashing against one another.

There was a slight pause between the two of you. Eddie reaches up to caress your face gently and keeps his eyes locked with yours. It was a moment for you to back out. To stop, to take a second and think. But you didn’t need it.

“Eddie,” You whispered gently.

Without a thought Eddie’s lips are on yours, devouring you again, with your hands moving into his dark messy curls. You whimpered as your hips moved against him, feeling him warm and hard against your slit. You couldn’t stop the moment you felt, spreading your slick up and his hardened cock. Just from the feel of him, you knew Eddie was thick, large and it only made you hungry for him more. All on your mind was that you didn’t feel close enough and you needed more. You wanted Eddie to consume you.

Eddie’s hands gripped at the soft, plushy curve of your hips, guiding you as you moved against him. The moans and whimpering shared between the two of you with your tongues moving against each other. You pulled back to reach down between the two of you, palming and stroking his cock slowly, mesmerized as you looked down at him. The soft pink head glistened with a mixture of the two of you, pearls of precum drooling down the side of his shaft. Eddie reached over and gripped tightly to the couch cushion beside him as he let out a whimpered cry with his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His hips moved up against the stroke of your hand.

“Baby – I…fuck please – I need, need to be inside you.” Eddie choked out, his words soft and whiney with a glazed look in his eyes.

Never had you felt like this. So desperate for another, a feeling building up in your chest that makes your chest feel tight.

You rise more on your knees and guide him to your entrance, stroking his head against your slit, before sinking down. A shudder ran up your spine as you felt the stretch of him till he was buried deep inside of you. You sat there for a moment with your hands pressed against his chest and his still white knuckling the couch.

“J-Jesus fuck – oh, baby –,” Eddie choked out as you started to ride him – rolling your hips against him.

A soft breathy whine passed through your lips every time the thatch of hair at the base of his cock brushed against your sensitive clit. Eddie can’t keep his eyes off of where the two of you are joined, watching as your slick drips down his cock and into his pubes. It was a sight he wanted committed to memory for the rest of his life.

“You…fuck – Eddie,” You couldn’t think as the words leaving your mouth became more of an incoherent moaning jumble of words.

Eddie moved quick and flipped the two of you, moving you to lay across the couch with him stretched out above you. The leverage caused Eddie to sink deeper inside, making the two of you cry out. You felt breathless with how full he made you feel. It wasn’t even over, and already, you wanted more. With your legs wrapped around his waist, Eddie began to move faster with each thrust harder than the last. You whimpered at the feeling of him pushing deeper into you.

“That’s it baby, good fuckin’ girl,” Eddie panted, his darkened eyes staring down at you. Your pussy tightened around him more and seemed to pull him in deeper. “Oh…you like that? Like when I call you a good girl?”

“Eddie,” You whined, your pussy fluttering around him more.

“Gonna cum? I can feel it, can feel this perfect lil’ pussy – fuck,” Eddie bit down on his lower lip before cursing under his breath. “Let go for me, I need it…I fuckin’ need to feel this pussy milkin’ my cock.”

Eddie’s hand moved down between you and soon you felt pressed against your clit. A shout came from deep within your chest with the shock of pleasure that moved through you. With the feeling of his fingers against your clit and his cock hitting that spot deep within you, you were gone. Your walls spasm around him as you whimper his name over and over, like a prayer leaving your lips with each sigh. Eddie’s hand moves along your sides as your legs shake, his body pressing down on yours, as his hips move with sharper, sloppier thrusts. Eddie pulls out quickly with his hand fisting around his cock and stroking himself before you felt the warmth of him against your lower stomach. The sight of him sent another shudder through you.

“Holy…fuck,” Eddie groaned, before looking at you and letting out a soft giggle.

You couldn’t help but do the same, the two of you there with your bodies glistening with sweat and each other.

“God what I wouldn’t give for a picture of this,” Eddie spoke, groaning softly, as his eyes scanned over your body.

“You’re a perv, Munson,” You shook your head, “Now get something to clean me off.”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie bent down and kissed you quickly before moving from the couch and toward the kitchen. You couldn’t stop the giggle from bubbling up again as you watched his pale ass as he ran from you.

So that happened...anyway...hope you enjoyed it....please leave a comment, reply, like, or reblog if you did! it really means a lot to me. come and chit-chat with me if you'd like, i love seeing what you guys think. till the next one! (also be gentle it's been months since I've written smut and I'm out of practice thank you. read smut absolutely, 25/8 I'm doing it, but writing...ehhhhhh)

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[saintship]

Hii. Saw your requests for Gaz post and of course I have to ask for something!

A neighbour Gaz fic/headcanon. Maybe him having a crush on reader and looking for ways to talk to her (neutral reader is fine too).

I havent seen any neighbour Gaz fics around here.

If not, a coworker Gaz slow burn would be great too!

Thank you 😊

I just read this amazing neighbor fic that might be what you’re looking for, and then I wrote a coworker slow burn here just so you have both concepts to read :)

Hope you like it!

Warnings: Slow build, hurt/comfort, kiss + confession, Graves cameo

Solid Copy - Gaz x Reader

FSS, M4, Fennec..

You leaned down to check each weapon's case, kneeling on the armory's concrete floor. Inventory wasn't the most exciting of the grunt work needed on base, but the repetition was nice. Not many others thought the same, however, always scrambling for a different assignment and leaving you with this one. That is, all except one Sergeant that you'd met your first day on site. Gaz happily paired up with you to stock or organize. You assumed he just needed a break from so many operations he'd been a part of that year, so many unpredictable events after one another. It wasn't often he caught a break.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had the kindness of joining you in a boring task, whether it be inventory, restocking, guard duty, or cafeteria, he always seemed to be there.

If anyone else had chosen to be around you so often, you might have been a little freaked out, but this was different, especially as the months passed and you were more familiar with everyone. A year passed by so quickly you hardly noticed it was that time again; that dead leaves littered the entrance and the wind blew colder every day. The first day there was snow, Gaz had found you on your break standing outside looking at it all. He teased you, but only to get you to turn your back so he could haul a snowball right at the sensitive nape of your neck. He'd ended up losing that battle, though he'd swear up and down for all his days it was a tie.

Two months with no deployments for the task force meant the return of those dull odd jobs. Tonight was cafeteria deep clean, a task out of many that you didn’t consider when you were enlisting. But Gaz was there, as always. You could hear him shuffle around, dropping things and making way too much noise as he cleaned the kitchen. A particularly loud crash caught your attention, your smile dropping to concern. You abandoned your mop, nearly slipping on the wet floor before vaulting the counter and looking around.

“I’m fine..” Gaz’s groan sounded from the back corner; he was pinned under a wooden palette holding an array of heavy steel pans.

“Oh- my god..” You rushed to lift the palette, thanking your weight training for your ability to push it up off Gaz’s leg.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, it fell!” Gaz got to his feet, gesturing to the culprit.

“That thing is like 40 pounds, it didn’t fall.”

“Okay, maybe I was putting something back on the top shelf, which I can reach,”

“Jesus..” You kneeled to gather the pans that had fallen.

“And when I pulled back..” He trailed off, nodding to the mess with his hands on his hips. You looked up to tell him off again, but saw a large bruise forming below his eye.

“Gaz, your cheek..”

He huffed. “I’m not going red!”

“Will you shut up?” You stepped closer to feel the area, noticing his wince but not noticing the hitch in his breath.

“Are you dizzy?” You were close enough that you could speak quietly.

“No.. but, um, I think I’m hurt here too, you should check..” He directed you vaguely to his jaw, where a tiny bruise was barely visible.

You blinked, still lost at what his deal was, but examined it anyway. “I think we need to amputate.”

“Amputate my head?” A smile crept over his features, and now your breath was catching.

“Let’s just..clean this..”

“It was nice of you to check on me.”

When you looked up from where you crouched in the mess he’d made, he was grinning. You forced down the fluttering in your ribcage.

“Thought you’d gotten really hurt..” You placed a few of the pans back, and Gaz did the same until the floor was clear again.

“You were worried about me?” The teasing in his voice was clear as day; his embarrassment behind him.

“No. Just..whatever.” You slid back over the counter, mopping the rest of the floor without sparing a single glance. No matter how much you were dying to, especially when you felt his eyes burn into your back. You only turned when you felt the aluminum corner of a file poke your shoulder. You put away the cleaning equipment, taking the file from his hand.

“What’s this?”

“Emergency hostage rescue. Alejandro’s guys.”

You scanned the file as quickly as you could, shaking off the light feeling that seemed ridiculous now that you knew of this.

“Just the 141?”

“Backup is on standby, Price thinks the Shadows might show up and try to get the hostages first.”

“What does Graves want with Vaqueros?” You asked, looking up. Gaz only shook his head.

“Nothing nice, I reckon.”

Price leaned into the entryway of the cafeteria, slinging a rifle over his shoulder. “Wheels up in 10!”

“Aye, Captain!” Gaz chirped. You continued studying the file before filing it in your bag, accompanying Gaz to the briefing room. Your weapons and gear hadn’t even been stored since the last mission and you were already strapping all of it back on. The file hadn’t said much; there were at least a dozen Vaqueros being held against their will by a band of Hassan’s leftover soldiers.

“You’d think Hassan wouldn’t be able to give us any more grief with a bullet in his head.” Gaz grumbled as the both of you clambered into the helicopter.

“His men were young when he recruited them.” Price exhaled a breath of smoke, studying the horizon. “He preyed on the ones looking for a purpose. Teenagers love a revolution.”

“They won’t let his message die.” You finished quietly.

Gaz strapped into the seat beside you before raising a fist to connect with your own. “We will.”

The sun had risen fully by the time the heli touched the sand, the exposed terrain already heightening your awareness.

“Soap, Ghost, come in.” Price spoke into his radio.

“Opposite your position, descending the hillside. Target building in our sights.” Ghost replied.

“Wait there. Soap, get ready for your specialty.”

“Aye, sir. You spoil me.”

Price smiled. “Blow it up, Sergeant.”

“Engaging. Brace for debris.”

“How big is this bomb?” You asked.

“The entrance is built to hell, we need some serious force.”

Gaz leaned over to watch Soap plant the device from afar. “Sweet.”

“Planted.” Soap chirped. “L.T.’s got the detonator.”

Price waited until Soap was at a good distance before carrying the order. “Light it up, Simon.”

“With pleasure.”

The entrance erupted in a brilliant light, bits of steel flying in every direction. Gaz watched for a moment before drawing back quickly.

“Shit..”

“What now?” You tugged on his shoulder to angle his face toward you.

“I’m fine.” A shard of steel had glanced over his forehead, narrowly missing his eye.

“You’re lucky.” You retorted.

“Focus..” Price glowered over his shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” Gaz wiped the blood away from his brow and moved up, you on his tail. The five of you circled the entrance, noting the silence.

“It’s quiet.” Ghost huffed.

“Actual, this is Price. Can we get confirmation we’re alone here?”

“This is Actual,” Kate’s voice replied through the radio system. “Your old friend got here first. Move in now.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost’s words bit the air as he tailed Price, you and the rest following behind. The halls were narrow; only two could fit lengthwise as you moved past the damp walls. A bolted door led to a stairwell to the basement, where shouting and commotion could be heard.

“Stay neutral for now.” Price murmured. All guns were stowed as you descended the stairs, bringing up the back end of the line. You heard Graves before you saw him.

“You will fuckin’ listen to me, or you’ll be sprayed against that wall, do you hear me?”

“Graves.” Price’s voice leveled with a twinge of threat.

He turned; his eyes lighting up in surprise.

“Well I’ll be.” Graves murmured, stalking forward. His rifle dangled at his side as if it was a toy.

“I’m afraid you’re being overridden. SAS has business here, your club does not.” Price walked up so he was looking down at him, emphasizing his taller stature.

Graves barked a short laugh, looking away before glancing back, a fire in his eyes. “Shadow Company is an enterprise. A haven for men held back by the military!”

“You’re fragile.” Your mouth moved faster than your head; that much was clear when Graves’ sharp eyes shifted to you.

“You’re new..” His voice growled with something that made you tense. “And you’re American. How’s that work, huh?”

“I’ll ask once.” Price seethed, stepping forward even further. “Leave. Now.”

“No can do, Cap’n.” Graves cocked his gun. “These young men have to go. And then your little Vaqueros—are going with me.”

“Over my fuckin’ corpse.” Ghost rumbled.

“And what a sight it’ll be.” Graves retorted.

You made the first shot; striking Graves in the abdomen. A non lethal wound; just what he deserved, in your opinion. The room erupted in gunshots, ricocheting bullets, and the rustic odor of fresh blood. The shadows that were there were mowed down until the room fell silent again. You looked to Gaz, his usually bright eyes a dark ochre as he stalked toward Graves. He picked him up by his vest, ignoring his groan as he was pushed against the wall and bound at his wrists; just as he’d done to the Arabic soldiers.

“These men need to be arrested, not executed, you fucking lunatic.” Gaz seethed.

“You don’t know shit about this world, son.” Graves heaved, blood staining his teeth. “If they’re alive, they’ll come back.”

“Not your decision to make, Graves.” Price replied. “Maybe it would be if you were a soldier.”

“I am a-" Graves huffed, his shortness of breath betraying his anger. “I am..”

“Sergeant, save his life so we can go. Now.” Price nodded to you, and you kneeled at Graves’ side, packing his wound.

“Gaz, let’s go. Still need to find Alejandro’s guys.”

He cast an uncertain glance at Graves before releasing his vest, following the team up the stairs while you worked a length of gauze into the bullet wound you’d ripped through the man in front of you.

“Why aren’t you shooting me?” Graves’ adrenaline hadn’t worn off; he was hyperventilating harder still.

“It’s the difference between military,” you secured the bandage patch. “and you.”

His eyes looked glassy; his breathing only worsening.

“Graves, breathe.” You held his shoulder. “You’re not going to die.”

“You..” His eyes flashed with hurt, confusion, anger. Anger at you, at the military, at himself. He shook his head roughly like a wet dog, grunting. "Fuckin' hell.."

"You need to breathe deeper." You reached to loosen his vest, though he flinched away for a moment before resigning to the improvement the breathing room gave him. You could tell his thanks was on the edge of his tongue, his pride holding back any sign of agreement.

He looked down, and groaned at the sight; it wasn't a clean shot.

"Don't." You ordered, your knuckle knocking his head upward by his chin. "It's worse than it looks."

"You'd know your own handiwork, huh?" He heaved. "You should be in the Army."

"Fine where I am."

"You sure, honey? I'm short a few marksmen thanks to your friends."

“On your feet." You heaved him upward, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned to see Gaz still watching from the bottom of the stairs.

“Gaz?”

Before he could respond, Soap was guiding Graves up the stairs, leaving you with your strangely silent friend.

“Is something wrong?”

Gaz sighed, pacing behind you, causing you to turn.

“You helped him.” His tone was low.

“Yes? It was an order.” Your brow furrowed.

“No..” Gaz glanced up at you, a glare in his eye you’d never seen before. “You helped him calm down. You comforted him.”

His disdain dripped with every word.

“Gaz, he was in shock.” You retorted. “What are you so suspicious of?”

“That you care about him. You care about that piece of shit.” Gaz gestured vaguely.

“I barely know him; how did you jump to this?”

“I’m not jumping to anything, I saw you-"

“You saw me do my job!”

"That was not what that was.”

“Gaz, why do you care so much?”

“Because I care about you!”

It was the only time he’d ever, ever raised his voice at you. The first time you’d seen tears well in his eyes, even though he’d never let them fall in front of you.

“If he were to lay a fucking finger on you, I-" Gaz tensed his fists, his eyes closing and his brow gathering in a frustrated pattern.

“I don’t.. " You stared, speechless. “Gaz..”

“Moving out, everyone to extraction.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all Gaz left you with before brushing past you and up the stairs.

The walk and flight back, the debrief, the morning after in the cafeteria, he didn’t even look at you. His dark circles deepened, he didn’t eat, he didn’t go out with Soap to the pub near base. And of course, when other people noticed, they asked his closest friend what was going on; you. And then you were the one avoiding mealtimes and celebrations, because you couldn’t help them with their questions.

You missed him desperately; your tasks without him were dull and never ending, the entire time your mind only on one man.

Eventually you decided to accept Soap’s invitation to drinks; you needed to break the cycle you’d fallen into. You didn’t even dress up, sticking to the lighter layers of your uniform and a nice necklace to lighten it all.

The base was lucky to have such a cozy spot close by; most of the patrons were soldiers or veterans too. There were rumors of the bartender being Price’s placement instructor, but the Captain never indulged to confirm or deny.

You were a bit late, speed walking through the entrance over to the booth where Soap and Ghost were playing cards. You slid in next to Ghost, eyeing the bar where you saw Price, and next to him, Gaz.

“What’s with the kid, anyway?” Ghost leaned down to murmur in your ear. “Looks like shit.”

“Can’t argue.” Sop added.

You toyed with the card box, studying the pattern on the front to avoid Soap’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Weren’t you trained in covert operations? You should be a better liar.” Ghost laid down his hand.

“AYE, you wee scunner!”

“If you want to hurt my feelings, you need to do it in english.”

Soap huffed. “You fucking bitch.”

“There we are.” Ghost shuffled the deck while you looked astray, the music drifting around you seeming to quiet when Gaz cracked a smile at something Price said.

“Gonna shove you outta here in a minute.” Ghost remarked. “Fuckin’ talk to him, he’s useless.”

You sighed, tossing the box back on the table and pushing yourself to your feet. You casted a glance back, at which Soap gave you a dorky double-thumbs up. A sideways glance at Price gave him the message to fake a bathroom visit, leaving Gaz to drink from his bottle alone for a few minutes. You came up quietly, ordering something neat that came to mind before easing into the space beside him. Seeing you, he exhaled noisily, halfway out of his seat before you spoke.

“Please, Gaz..”

He allowed himself to relax back into the stool, facing forward.

“Just go.” His voice was gentler than you’d anticipated. The bartender handed you your drink, and you drank a mouthful.

“I don’t want to.” You said simply.

His leg began to bounce, and you wondered how good of an idea this was.

“I need to stay away from you. It’s the only way things can work smoothly.”

Your brow furrowed for a moment, and he noticed, closing his eyes while rubbing at his forehead.

“I care too much. It’s going to get somebody hurt.”

“How can you be sure if you won’t let it happen?” You replied slowly.

“I’ve seen it happen; it doesn’t work.”

You shook your head. “Gaz, I won’t just ignore you forever, you have to know that’s unreasonable.” Your voice shook for a moment. “You’re my squadmate, you’re my friend. I will not leave you to rot because you’re scared, that’s exactly when I should be with you.”

You didn’t know what possessed your words as you pleaded with him, but they were pouring out, and it felt right. Being beside him felt right.

Gaz looked into your eyes for the first time in weeks.

“I’ll hurt you.”

You took his hand.

“I’ll let you.”

Gaz stared for a few moments, his eyes darting to search your face for any insincerity. When he found nothing, he tugged you off the stool, leading you through moving bodies and clouds of cigar smoke to the curb outside.

“It’s freezing..” You looked up at him as he finally stopped, the street lamps illuminating his face.

“I’m sorry..” He absentmindedly ran his hands down your arms to warm you, the action furthering your confusion. "I just.."

"What is it?"

Gaz's breath was visible in the cold air, a puff that crowded between the two of you when he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. His hands held your head gently, and your arms found their way around his. He only stopped for a breath before leaning in again, his nose nudging against yours. He pulled you closer, kissed you longer. Between his exchanges, he breathed a simple phrase, as if he wanted to transfer the words into your very soul.

"I'm in love with you."

[meep-moops-stuff]

Sidney Crosby x Reader - Found Father

“You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know / and not invite your family cause they never showed you love”

It was finally winter in Pittsburgh, meaning the temperature was starting to get colder and the snow was starting to fall.

A month had gone by since Sidney paid for y/n’s latte and it ended well. They ended up chatting afterwards about her degree in social work and all she has to study.

Sidney never went to college, so he found it interesting to hear about the true college experience.

Ever since then, and every time Sidney would walk into the cafe, he’d find book girl in her usual corner. He’d always give her a little wave or say a small hello as he’d walk by.

But today had ended differently.

Sidney made his usual order at the cash register and waited for his drink to be made when he saw y/n talking on the phone and she did not look impressed.

He kept his eyes on her as he grabbed his coffee and made his way over to her hair as she hung up and took her glasses off to rub her eyes.

“You ok?” Sidney asked gently.

Y/n looked up and smiled but sighed.

“The stupid power is out at my apartment complex because of the wind and snow. And they won’t get it back on until tomorrow afternoon.” She explained.

Sidney set his drink down and sat in the chair across from her.

“What? So you won’t have any heat? It’s supposed to get really cold tonight” Sidney said with a stern tone.

Book girl put her glasses back on and leaned back in her chair, shutting her laptop as she looked outside.

“Yeah I won’t have any heat tonight.” She mumbled. She watched the snow fall as she began to bounce her knee, trying to figure out what to do.

“Have you asked your parents if you could stay with them?” Sidney asked.

Y/n chuckled and shook her head.

“No. I don’t really talk to my family anymore.” She said softly.

“You can stay with me I have a guest room” Sidney blurted out.

Y/n stopped bouncing her leg and looked at Sidney in surprise.

Sidney’s eyes widened, realizing what he had just said.

Why doesn’t he think before talking sometimes?

He cleared his throat and sat up, trying to figure out how to make things less awkward.

“I didn’t mean that weirdly like you can stay with me. I’d be in my own room obviously and the guest room is like not close to mine so you’d be totally safe” he rambled out.

His face started to get red and he knew this looked bad.

Y/n smiled as she crossed her arms and began to giggle at how awkward Sidney was making this.

“I just made it even more awkward by adding that, didn’t I?”

Y/n nodded and sat up and took a sip of her hot coffee.

Sidney looked at his watch and noticed it was 5pm and the sun would set soon.

“But I did mean it. You can stay at my place in the guest room until your heat is back on. I don’t want you freezing to death” he said softly.

“I’ve known you for maybe three months at this point and you’re just going to offer up your guest room like it’s no big deal?” Y/n asked.

Sidney shrugged and traced circles on his coffee cup.

“Well I think it’s safe to say you aren’t a serial killer based off what I know…so yeah” he said, causing her to smile.

“How do I know you aren’t a serial killer though?” She asked and smiled.

Sidney chuckled and tilted his head to the side.

“That’s true. I could be. But I’m too busy to be one” he said.

She giggled again and cracked her knuckles as she looked back outside to see the sun beginning to set.

“Ok. I’ll take up the offer”

Sidney nodded and set his empty coffee cup back down on the table and cleared his throat.

“Ok do you need a ride? I can drive you to grab some things and then we can head back to my place and-“

Sidney stopped talking as he looked at y/n who was already done packing up her back pack and putting her winter jacket on.

“I have a car. I can drive to yours or follow you” she said softly.

Sidney scratched the back of his head and nodded, forgetting that she was probably able to drive.

“I have extra clothes in my car. I’ll be fine” she added.

Sidney nodded again, not sure of what to say.

“Well are you ready to go?” He asked.

Y/n nodded and smiled as she grabbed her car keys out of her pocket and stood up as Sidney stood up.

“Well after you” he said and gestured towards the door, making her smile.

He walked behind her out the entrance and as soon as the cold air hit his face, everything dawned on him.

He’s really letting her stay in his guest room?

She’s maybe 20 at the oldest. He doesn’t even know her age, just her first name and why she goes to college.

He was joking before about the serial killer comment but what if she is?

And what if she-

“Sid? Are you ok? This is my car”

He was snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the car she was standing at, about to get in.

He nodded and pointed to his car that was a couple cars in front of hers.

“I’ll pull out and you can follow me” he said and smiled.

He turned to walk to his car as he heard y/n shut her car door. He let out a breath he had been holding in and made his way to his car.

As he got into the drivers seat and closed the door, he stared at the steering wheel.

If this was any other person, he would’ve left right away. But something was different when it came to y/n. She seemed different, like she needed help. Some sort of extra support.

Sidney isn’t a parent but he knows when his paternal instincts come in, and when he heard she was be staying in a freezing cold apartment, he couldn’t let that happen.

He finally snapped out of his thoughts and started his car up, making sure y/n was behind him through his review mirror as he pulled away.

[mochie85]

The Redwoods

Part 2 of my Wanderlust series.

One-shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: The first stop on your road trip through California to visit all the National Parks. And it's colder than you expected. Especially at night! Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Word Count: 773 (a drabble, really) Warnings: Fluff. Flirting. A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty's July Monthly Challenge. I picked prompt #9, Cuddling for Warmth.

Your teeth were rattling inside your mouth as you held your arms closer to you. The five layers of blankets and the two layers of hoodies and thermals couldn’t keep the cold from seeping through to you and settling into your bones.

It had been a week since graduation. It was already the beginning of June, but Summer comes late to California. The days were warm, and California nights can get extremely cold. Especially this far north and high in elevation.

“Nugget, if you don’t stop shaking, I’m going to assume you are not cut out for this and I’m gonna drive us both home. OW!” Bucky screamed as you kicked him underneath all the layers. You hated that nickname. It annoyed you so much when he reminded you of how short you were.

“Your feet are freezing, woman! Aren’t you wearing socks?” he scolded you.

“No!” you muffled, hiding underneath your wool scarf. Your toes went on the hunt, seeking his warm calf to seep all the heat from his body.

“Uh, uh. Nope! Stop! You are not-” he swatted your foot away. “You are not warming your icicle toes on me!” You giggled as he successfully kept you at bay on your side of the van.

The vintage Volkwagon Bus, that you managed to spruce up from the many ideas on your Pinterest boards, lacked insulation and calking. Bucky noted and whined as the two of you spent the last week sleeping in the back of the "ice cream truck," as Bucky had once called it.

“You’re lucky cuz Smokey decided to sleep next to you to keep you warm!” You said out loud.

“Ya, he sleeps next to me because he can’t get over how loud your teeth are rattling!” And as if he was agreeing, Smokey let out a small grunt growl.

“Traitor!” you sneered at your dog. Then you pouted, giving Bucky your saddest puppy eyes.

“Don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” you pouted some more.

“It’s not gonna work. Instead, what I’ll do- I’ll just drive us both home. Where we can sleep in our own beds. Watch Netflix on my flat screen instead of your iPad. And use indoor plumbing like a modern-day person would!”

Bucky was angry and you can tell. You didn’t think he would get so annoyed. Was that how he felt this whole time? It was only the first week of your two-month-long trip. Would he be like this for the rest of the time? Maybe he’ll give up and just leave you in the middle of the trip to go home.

You heard Bucky sigh and then groan in defeat. He watched you as you spiraled into your thoughts. Your face turned from a sad pout into a depressed frown, trying to mask the feelings you had inside.

The covers lifted, opening the small space in between you. “Get over here.” 

You squealed as you rolled your way into his side, your back to his chest. “What are you 10?” he laughed.

“A lady doesn’t scoot!”

“Ha! But nuggets roll,” he mocked. Your feet sought his bare legs in revenge as he hissed inwardly at the contact from your cold touch.

“Hey, be nice! Be a good girl for me! I’m letting you steal my warmth here!” he growled into your ear.

His phrase caught you off guard. The low gravelly tone tickled something in you. It traveled all the way down to your aching core. Aching and neglected. And soon you didn’t need his body heat anymore. You were making your own! From the sheer bewilderment, you found yourself in.

When was the last time I had sex? Too long ago. That’s probably why you’re feeling this way. You can’t start thinking this way about Bucky! He’s your best friend.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” He asked.

“Nothing. I’m just- I’m just trying to get cozy,” you said adjusting and wriggling your body to fit his. He grunted at your movement.

“The sooner you get comfy, the sooner we can all go to sleep!” he chided.

You finally relaxed in his embrace. You could feel the heat from his wide chest on your back keeping you warm and toasty. Soon, you found yourself drifting off to the sounds of his breathing.

You must’ve turned in your sleep. When you woke up that morning, the first thing you saw were Bucky’s sapphiric eyes, heavy with slumber, focused on your lips.

Just kiss me! 

Lord, You did not just think that! OK! First things, first. As soon as you get home from this trip. You are finding yourself a boyfriend.

If you can survive Bucky, that is.

⬅️Wanderlust | Lassen Volcanic Park (Coming Soon)➡️

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

last < table of contents > next

In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.