#done just stand back and watch someone struggle and say “oh it's for the best if we don't interfere”

[neverendingford]

.

[skylarsblue]

✦I have more C.o.D Quotes✦

Gaz: How’s your head? Y/N: Well, I haven’t had any complaints yet. Gaz: …excuse me? Y/N: Oh uh, I think I’ll live-

-- (Somewhere in Greece with a fuck ton of cats) Ghost, watching Price sneeze every five seconds: What a catastrophe. Gaz: No. Y/N: PFFT- Soap: Stop, no, don’t encourage him. Y/N: Ahem! Right, right. Not funny. Ghost: I am purrfectly capable of being funny. Y/N: *struggling* Gaz: Sometimes I wish you didn’t have a mouth.

-- Just a scene of Y/N taking out a bottle of whiskey, unscrewing they cap, then putting one of those lid caps on. (Like the ones you have on those fancy Gatorades) Taking a huge swig and closing the cap on it as Soap watches in amusement, & Price in fear.

-- Ghost: Quit messing with my hand. Soap: Quit messing with my hair! Y/N: Quit being gay. Gaz: PFFFT Y/N: Both problems solved.

-- Y/N, on the comms: You have thirteen seconds before the building fucking explodes you hot topic wannabe- Ghost: … Y/N: And you green gumball son of a bitch. Gaz: Wha-?! Soap: *WHEEZE* Y/N: You have done nothing but ruin my life; I hope you both die.

-- Soap, Gaz, & Y/N: *cackling* Laswell, losing at poker: I miss my wife, Price. Price: *places down cards* Laswell: I miss my wife.

-- Ghost, overstimulated & a lil drunk: AHHHHHH MY BONES Y/N: *frantically getting headphones* Soap, drunk: *wheeze* Gaz: Ah. I know I should’ve- *dies coughing* Soap: *more wheezing*

-- Graves *kicks in door* WHO POSTED MY NUDES ON TWITTER DOT COM?! Y/N: SUCK IT, BITCH BOY!! Alejandro: *aggressively slapping his leg while silently laughing* Rudy: *pointing and laughing* Valeria, in handcuffs: Ha, dumbass.

-- Graves: Bitch, you are gonna get in this car or I’m popping between ya eyes! Valeria: Hey, I know you. I saw your dick on Twitter! Graves: NOOOOOO Y/N: AHAHA!

-- Graves: C’mon Johnn- Y/N: *chucks a rock at Graves’ head* Graves: OW, WHY?! Y/N: NO JOHNNY FOR YOU! He goes by Soap and we respect that! Graves: Ghost calls him that! Y/N: CAUSE GHOST HAS PERMISSION, you EARN the right to Johnny! And I will be damned if anyone else earns the right before me. I been working my ass off to get the Johnny privilege and you will NOT get it for free! Soap, who’s just been standing there the whole time: *leans to Gaz* Have they actually been taking it that seriously? Gaz: Yeah. They’ve also been working real hard to try and get the right to call Captain “John”. Shoulda seen their face when I said they can call me Kyle. Soap: That’s…really sweet, I’ll give’em permission later. Gaz: Why not now? Soap: I wanna see that bastard get chewed out some more.

-- Y/N, perched on Price’s desk: Captain. Price: *sigh* Y/N: Captain I crave violence.

-- Ghost: Your family line deserves to die with you, only shame it didn’t end before you. Graves: ….I just sat down!

-- Y/N: You’re like…the human incarnation of crumbs in the bed. Graves: Oh c’MON THAT’S REAL MEAN Ghost: It’s true though. Y/N: The kinda crumbs that you keep swiping away but somehow they never leave- Graves: Alright! You know what- Soap: Like getting in bed after going to the beach. Gaz: Sand in the bed, yeah. Feels like that when he talks. Graves: I’M JUST GONNA FUCKIN LEAVE! Y/N: *watches him go* Annnd now the sheets have been changed. Ghost: Clean from filth. Alejandro: You all are so cruel and it’s perhaps the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

-- Gaz: Things Gucci with you? Y/N: It’s Goodwill at best, my guy. Price: I don’t know what this means but I feel like I should be concerned.

-- (Mild NSFW Jokie Time) Gaz: You alright? You been zoned out. Y/N: Hm? Nah I’m good, just having depraved thoughts. Gaz: Depraved, you say? Soap: Oh do tell. Y/N: You just…you ever see someone and think “they have pretty eyes”. And that’s normal. But then the little devil in the back of ya skull goes “yeah they’d look good rolled back”. Or am I just a whore? Gaz: That is depraved. Soap: Got a good point though.

-- Y/N: Ooo! Look! Old pictures of Captain, this one’s dated. You would’ve been…19 in this one. Lemme s-…… Gaz: Lemme see! ….. Price: What? Y/N: …..you were a whore, weren’t you captain? Gaz: That’s the face of an arrogant bastard who fucks regularly. Price: I…might’ve been a bit of a playboy. Y/N: And I would’ve fallen for it you god damn bastard, no ones fACE SHOULD BE THAT NICE!

-- Valeria, painting her nails: I might kill my ex, not the best idea. His new girlfriend’s next- Alejandro: ….. Rudy: ….should I be worried? Alejandro: Move away quietly and pray.

-- Ghost: For the record this is self destructive. Soap, chugging his 5th energy drink in the past hour: For the record, I’m aware of that.

-- MILF!Y/N: Boys. Bed, now. I wanna talk to your captain. Price: No, boys stay. Please stay- Y/N: Go. Price: Stay. The boys: *concern, panic, perhaps a bit of fear* Y/N: Go! Price: Stay! Y/N: You go! Soap: *speed walking* Price: Soap, stay! Y/N: NOW! Gaz: *slowly backing away* Price: Gaz, don’t move! Y/N: YOU GO! Price: SIMON- Ghost: *leaving*

-- Ghost: What was Plan A? Soap: …don’t fuck up. Ghost: And what was Plan B? Gaz: Don’t fuck up Plan A. Ghost: And what did you do? Y/N: …fucked up plan a- Ghost: YOU FUCKED UP PLAN A-

-- Ghost: What’s rule number one? Soap, with dynamite: Party! Ghost: NO! No, not party! No!

-- Graves: How about after this, we get a drink? Y/N: …I would rather gouge out my eyes and blindly navigate a way to turn them into earrings than ever be anywhere alone with you. Soap, grinning: Ooooo brutal! Ghost: Karma.

-- Ghost: Wait…Johnny’s into me? Like…he LIKES me?? Gaz: Oh Si…you poor, sad, dense mother fucker.

-- Ghost: At least nothing of importance was lost. Laswell: …Graves was kidnapped. Ghost: I know. I said what I said. Y/N: Nothing of value was lost but we did shed off some trash! Ghost: Precisely.

-- Ghost: These lights make me wanna pull my eyes out and eat them. Medic!Y/N: *turns lights off in favor of a lamp* …alright, so you’re autistic, good to know.

-- Ghost: Should I get my reading glasses? Y/N: Oh no no, this isn’t an eye test. It’s a GAY test. Now tell me, *holds up picture of Farah & Graves; Price being 1* Number one, or number two? Ghost: Number one?… Y/N: Interesting. *holds up Farah & Soap, Soap being 2* Okay now number one, or number two? Ghost: *gasp* Y/N: Number two, right? Ghost: Maybe I am gay?

-- Waitress: So, I’ve gotta ask, I’m really curious. 141: ? Waitress: Have any of you ever used like…the military language in bed? Soap: Naaaah. Y/N: No, I don’t- PFFFT, I- *wheeze* I’m sorry I’m imagining it- Gaz: *biting back laughs* Y/N: “You gonna come?” Affirmative. *laughs* Soap: *WHEEZE* Gaz: *cackling* Price: Oh lord- Gaz, snickering: Picking up speed. Y/N: COPY- *Laughter x100* The entire team: *giggling like hyenas* Ghost: Uh, that’s a no. I don’t think we’ve done that.

-- Price: *smiles at Soap & Gaz being stupid* Y/N: I like when you smile. Price: …huh? Y/N: Your smile, I like it. Makes your eyes crinkle up and your beard makes you look like a cuddly bear. You should smile more. Price, internally on the verge of tears: *fond sigh* Get back to drills, soldier. Y/N: Yes sir!

-- Ghost: *minding his fucking business* Y/N: You have pretty eyes. Ghost: *chokes on air* Pardon? Y/N: You have pretty eyes. Ghost: No I-…they’re just brown. Y/N: So? Your eyes don’t have to be blue or green to be pretty. They’re pretty because they’re expressive, and when the sun hits them they look like syrup. I like’em best when we’re all at a bar. They get brighter then. Ghost: Ghost: …stop talking, sergeant. Y/N: Copy that, L.T! <3

-- Gaz: *laughing at something on his phone* Y/N: You have a great laugh. Gaz: Hm? Oh…really? Y/N: Mhm. It’s cute, comes from your chest. I’ve never heard you laugh in anyway that’s not genuine. Really fills the room with joy. Gaz: Dude, you’re gonna make me all soft with words like that. Y/N: All according to plan!

-- Soap: *rambling about something* Y/N: *listening intently* Soap: Then-…ah, I been talkin’ at you this whole time, eh? Should probably quiet down. Y/N: No no, I like your voice! Soap: Eh? Y/N: It’s super energetic and loud, and when you tell a joke or talk about something you love, it’s like you can hear your smile. It’s really fun to listen to. I like when you talk! Soap: *inhale* You’re gonna make me cry- Y/N: I have tissues!

-- König: *fidgeting* Y/N: *takes his hands* You have beautiful hands. König: Wh- Huh?? No they are not. Y/N: They are too! König: Nien, they’re rough and calloused, they break a lot of things… Y/N: They also pet stray cats, make the best coffee on base, and create crotchet works of art. They also mend wounds pretty well. Yeah they fire guns but that doesn’t make them less beautiful. König: *he’s actually crying* …Danke. Y/N: Don’t mention it!

-- Rudy: *rolling his shoulder* Y/N: Anyone ever tell you that you have great shoulders? Rudy: Hm? Oh uh…no, I don’t believe so. Y/N: Well you do! Rudy: Ah, gracias. When I was younger I wanted them to be broader, sometimes now I wish they were more narrow. Can never really be happy with’em, you know? Y/N: Well I think you should be. They’re strong! *gently pats his shoulders* They hold a lot of weight, metaphorically and physically. And even when they’re weighed down, you shoulder it and keep moving. You’re real good at that! I like your shoulders. Rudy, prepared to die for them: …gracias. Y/N: No problem! Now c’mon, the guys are waitin’ for us!

-- Y/N: You have good collarbones. Alejandro: What was that? Y/N: Sorry, I know that’s real specific, but I think your collarbones are pretty. It’s like…the rest of you is bulky and strong, rugged. Then you have these delicate bones. I’m probably being too poetic but it’s like a subtle nod to your gentler side, just, built into your body. Alejandro: …you have a lovely way with words, camarada. Y/N: Thank you! I appreciate that!!

[douceurrrr]

SCANDAL

paring(s): felix catton x black!start!reader

summary: farleigh is his best mate but his sister is just too good and someone knows.

warning(s): mdni! smut, profanity, she/her pronouns, oral sex (f), f-ing in secret, Oliver lurking lol, jacob elordi’s hotness may be fatal!

PS: ik farleigh is his cousin but pretend he’s not

Being farleigh’s sister meant coming to saltburn every summer and coming to saltburn every summer meant being with felix. You and felix had been in a secret relationship for a couple months now and your brother hasn’t suspected a thing. It’s weird because felix would kill anyone that touched his sister but when it came to farleigh’s sister, he could resist. You know it’s wrong but you loved the way his hair brushed against your thighs when his head is in between them. It starts with him sneaking glances at you during breakfast and dinner and ends with you in his bed.

“shhh! he’s asleep felix.” you whispered with a smile. felix had successfully pulled you out of the room you shared with venetia and into his, liked he’d done many nights before. “oh hush, love. oliver sleeps like a child.” felix says, moving your box braids off your shoulder to peck the skin there. oliver on the other hand made sure he didn’t sleep that night.

You and felix had finally made it to his room. “y’gonna let me taste you, love?” felix whispered in your ear, making sure to leave a kiss on your neck before lifting his head up. you nodded, slowly placing yourself on his bed and spreading your warm, brown thighs. before felix leaned his head down, you heard the floor creak, “wait, i heard something.” you lifted your head towards the door but there was nothing there.

“it’s probably nothing, love. but here-” felix then got up and closed the door. “there. feel better?” you nodded but you were still a little concerned. felix then hooked his fingers underneath your lace panties, putting them in his pocket. he then grabs your thigh and pulls to him with force.

his metal, eyebrow piercing was cold against your thigh as he licks his tongue through your wet folds. swirling on your clit. you moaned into his pillow as he watch your face fill up with pleasure.

it encouraged him to do more, wanting you to struggle to keep your sanity. “try to keep quiet, darling. wouldn’t want your brother hearing, let alone oliver.” how does he expect you to be quiet when he eats your pussy the way he do?

the more close you got the more pressure he added to your clit. he had your back lifting off the bed as you the band in your stomach break as your mouth opened in awe at the pleasure. “y’wanna wet my dick, huh?” felix stands up from the bed, fumbling with his belt. you sit up from the bed, watching him struggle with his pants from scrambling too fast.

“need help?” you giggled but he had already shoved his pants down, crawling on the bed to you. it was like lion and prey. he kissed you, hungrily. and you kissed back with force. felix then breaks the kiss. “alright enough of the fucking foreplay, ready love?” he huffs, positioning his cock to your center. you obviously nodded and bucked you hip into him, attempting to speed the process which made him laugh and rub his tip on your clit, making you even more anxious.

“felix please.” he couldn’t say no to you, especially when your making those pretty sounds for him. you finally felt his cock slip through your folds with sharp thrust. “fucking hell that’s incredible.” he groans in your neck, moving in and out of you.

you couldn’t help but to bite into felix’s shoulder to hide you moans as he pounds into you with your legs wrapped him. you press your feet onto his ass, making him take you deeper which made him go even faster.

“fuck felix, m’close.” you moaned in his ear, which would’ve been enough to make him cum.

“cum f’me, angel.” felix replied, sharpening his thrust and hitting that spot that made you see stars before cumming around him. “fuck.” you whimpered as he slows his thrusts, walking you through your orgasm while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“you’re incredible.” felix whispers as he slips out of you and flops on his back. the room smelled like sweat and sex as you gather your clothes, about to leave when felix stops you. “just sleep here, love.” felix says but you knew you couldn’t without venetia noticing your absence but you nodded anyway and crawled back on the bed, laying your head on his chest.

-

The next morning, felix had been staring at you the whole breakfast without anyone noticing (or so you thought). After breakfast, you made your way to venetia’s room when oliver stops you. “oh oli! hi.” you smiled but he wasn’t.

“you know you’re a slut right?” you face dropped at his words. “w-what?” you replied, not knowing what he was talking about.

“you think i don’t know about you and felix? how you moan for him?” oliver says. your blood runs cold. “fuck you, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” you sneer at him, attempting to walk past him but he grabs your arm, tightly.

“poor farleigh. he doesn’t know how much of a slut his sister is for his best friend.” he says before letting go of your arm when lady elspeth comes. “oliver love! come. there’s someone i want you to meet!” she says, cheerfully.

“coming.” oliver replied, switching his attitude like nothing happened and walking away with standing there, astonished.

but who would you tell?

[sturniozo]

Savage Love

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

Summary: After a night out with her friends, Y/n wakes up in a hotel bed with a handsome stranger with no memory of the night before. Pieceing together what she can, she finds the man she woke up with wasn’t just some stranger, but the most powerful man in New York.

A/N: I’m basing all of my mafia knowledge on watching the god father when I was six and that one episode of community with the chicken fingers. Other than that I have no clue how mafia works so this might not be as good as you hope but hey I tried. Tell me if you want me to continue this though! I had fun writing it!

Masterlist

I never go out with my friends and I felt bad about it for a long time. But today, Emma convinced me to go dancing with her at a club in New York. I’ve been in the city many times, as I live just outside of it, in a small apartment above a bookshop. But the city of New York still terrifies me, especially at night. There’s a rumor of a secret organization that controls just about everything in the city, and if you cross the man at the top then you’re done for.

Of course, these are just rumors and haven’t actually been proven. I have nothing to fear, right?

Now I’m sitting in front of Emma’s vanity mirror getting ready as she does my hair.

“Oh you should totally wear it down! Curl it a bit, let it hang over your shoulders. You might hook up tonight, you never know.” Emma teases as she messes with my hair. I finish curling my lashes and then turn to her.

“I don’t think I’ll hook up at all. I’m just not the type.” I shrug and stand up, switching places with Emma as she sits in front of her vanity mirror to do her own makeup.

“Well, I am the type.” She says as she starts with contour. I walk into the bathroom and plug in the curling iron to heat it up.

“You can hook up with any guy you want.” I say to Emma. “Just make sure he wraps it. I don’t want to be an aunt so soon.” I laugh.

Emma and I have been best friends since fourth grade. She’s my polar opposite, although we have the same dreams. We’re both journalists writing for a small newspaper outlet right outside of New York.

Emma’s the type to do things we’re doing now almost every day. She always tells me about all the big parties and exclusive events and venues she’s attended. She’s talk to, and slept with, many of the biggest people in multiple industries to get information for her articles.

I take a different approach. My stories come from the smaller people. The homeless and the struggling. I try to bring attention to the lower class of America.

I bet you can guess whose stories get published. Hence why I live in a small apartment above a bookshop, and Emma has a penthouse.

“God, I know. I can’t handle having a baby now. I’m only 20 for Pete’s sake!” Emma laughs and sets down her makeup brush. She turns to me and says “But I need to sleep with someone big and important tonight. I’m dying here, I haven had a story published in almost two weeks!”

I sigh. Two weeks is nothing. Try five months. I’m basically just a consultant at this point.

Emma turns back to the mirror to finish her makeup. I check the curling iron and it’s nice and hot, so I begin to curl the ends of my hair. Just a little curly at the edge.

Emma gets up from the mirror and starts shutting off lights and electronics around her penthouse. I unplug the curling iron and walk into the front room to put on my shoes and grab my purse. Emma shut off the last light and we walk out of the penthouse. She locks the door and we get into the elevator, going down to the front desk.

Emma has an Uber waiting for us. The great thing about Emma is, no matter how much more she has than me, she always gives and never asks for any in return. It’s always been this way. She’s the sweetest friend I’ve ever had. She’s also the most ruthless journalist I’ve ever met.

We get into the Uber and the driver starts for the city. It’s a long drive, one that me and Emma use to our advantage and try to find out who’s the most important person attending the party.

“Oh my god!” Emma says after a long silence of us just looking at our phones.

“What is it, who will be there?” I ask frantically.

“Matt Sturniolo!”

I look at her, confused. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s that? WHO’S THAT? Matt Sturniolo is only the most powerful guy in New York!”

“That can’t be true, how come I’ve never heard of him?”

“Because you focus on who can help the lower class. He can’t help them, it’s not in his power.”

“Then he doesn’t have much power.”

“Oh, he has power. He has all the power. It’s his rumor that he’s the one who controls all the important somebody’s in New York. I gotta make it my mission to sleep with him. God, I bet he’s good in bed.” She says to herself.

I let out a laugh. “What story do you plan together by sleeping with him?”

“I want to know if the rumor is true, duh!” She laughs and lightly hits my shoulder.

We arrive at the venue. It’s large and the music is blaring. We step out of the car and I lean to Emma and say loudly so she can hear me over the music “The most powerful man in New York is gonna be here?” I laugh. “This doesn’t look like a scene you’d catch someone so important in.”

“Trust me, he’ll be here. Steph said so, and she’s always right!” Emma says back. She takes my hand and drags me through the line, showing the bouncer a VIP pass for both her and I. They let us in and Emma immediately drags me to the bar.

“Two vodka martinis!” She says to the bartender. The bartender nods and begins our drinks. I turn around to look at all the people dancing. Men in half dressed suits grinding on women in the shortest dresses. This is what Emma does every day? I understand the appeal, but the loud music and the flashing lights just aren’t for me.

We get our drinks and Emma takes me to a table to sit down at. “So what do we do now?” I ask.

“We mingle!” She shouts and raises her hands in the air.

The rest of the night that I can still remember was filled with drinking and Emma talking to numerous people, always asking about the guy who’s name I can no longer remember due to my copious consumption of alcohol. The last thing I remember was talking to a tall, handsome, dark haired man with beautiful light blue eyes.

~

I awake with a pounding headache. I raise my head from my pillow and slowly open my eyes, groaning from the pain. I look around and realize, this is not my bedroom. This is not Emma’s bedroom. I have no clue where I am. I scan the room and my eyes fall on a strange man sitting on the couch. I gasp and he looks up at me.

“Good, you’re awake. I was wondering if I’d have to drop you at the emergency room.” He laughs to himself.

I sit up fully in the bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” I ask frantically.

“My names Matt, and-“ I stop him

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine just-“

“Oh god what happened?”

“Nothing, I-“

“I was drunk!”

“I know, that’s why I-“

“Tell me I didn’t. We didn’t.”

“Would you let me fucking speak?” He yells. “I didn’t fucking touch you, okay? You were dancing on a table and your friend had gone home with some guy so I got you a hotel room. You could barely stand and you just passed out on the bed.” He finishes with a huff.

I stare up at him in shock. “So we didn’t”

“No. We didn’t.” He pauses. “But we could.” He says with a smirk.

A blush appears on my cheeks and my breath shakes “What?” I ask

“Well you’re an attractive girl, I wouldn’t mind it.” He laughs. “But I have a meeting in an hour, so it’ll have to be another time. Want my number while you think about it?” He asks and before I can answer he hands me a card. “I got an Uber waiting for you whenever you’re ready to go home, it’s already paid for. Just do whatever you need to before you leave.” He says, clearly insisting I shower and eat. “And tell the driver where you need to go. Don’t forget to call, doll face.” He says before leaving and closing the door behind him.

I look down at the card he had handed me.

‘Matt Sturniolo.’ With an address and phone number.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover (the one who came up with the idea for Mafia!Matt) @sturniolobessed

[wxxpingangxls]

Peaches and Cream

+sypnosis; struggling on ideas for you new best seller, 'Poison', you use inspiriation from your new found relationship

+content/warnings; no explicit description of reader as usual anyone can read, fluff, making out, grinding, begging, teasing, Eren is pretty straight forward, lowercase intended

+pairings; Eren x HyperfemBlackReader

+a/n; this was requested from a very beautiful mind, tysm @0zero0-0

walking along the fields, you closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. you silently took in the scenery of the forest, sunshine peeking through the towering trees almost as if they were playing hide and seek. the birds sweet tunes filled your eyes, whilst you hummed a song that had been stuck in your head. in reality, you were meant to be working on a book of yours. it was supposed to be the new best seller. “poison” was the name. you internally hated yourself for taking this direction in life, for taking the initiative to pursue your passion in writing.

“poison” was a dark novel about how quickly love can spread; you can either over come it and glow or it’ll be the death of you. not literally of course.

you figured walking out during the warm evening would clear your mind, however even the sounds of nature weren’t enough to gift you even seconds of mental silence. your mind truly was your worst enemy. you tentatively continued to embark this adventure to further increase your creativity. You hoped so hard that you would get some sort of inspiration. You stopped, momentarily to stare at the beautiful hydrengas surrounding the nearby field. 'oh wow' you thought to yourself, before reaching over to feel the flowers.

“careful there, princess,” you jumped upon hearing a voice behind you. you hadn’t for a moment stopped to think that someone was trailing behind you. you turned around with a dry throat to face the voice. a familiar face stared back expectantly. “eren?” his long dark hair was cascading down his face and his green eyes were brighter than ever. he was smiling cheekily whilst watching your startled expression. “hey stranger, it’s been a while…”

“yeah…it’s been a while,” you giggled softly.

“some might say too long, how’ve you been?” he chuckled, walking closer towards you.

“far too long, and i’m great,”

“yeah, i’ve seen. you��ve got another book on the way,”

“hm yeah, just came out here for inspiration…” you spoke thoughtfully.

the pink maxi skirt you were wearing flowed in the wind as you both stood there in silence.

you hadn’t known how, but by some miracle, that inspiration you needed so badly was now flowing through your mind. you suddenly felt so much more confident in your own writing. as you were getting to the climax of your novella, you remembered Eren and your history.

you too weren’t close but there had always been a thick tension in the room. there was an unspoken sense of silent admiration on his side. he’d always felt magnetised to your bright pink spirit. he loved the way you waltzed into every room, hair and nails always done. signature colors of pink, white and purple always adorned you sweet - smelling, soft skin. not to mention your lips were always glossed up and soaked in a pout. it was no surprise that you hadn’t change— why would you? you wore these colors so beautifully. which is why he was at your door with a bouquet of pink roses and purple lilies.

a single door bell startled you and you jumped straight out of your day dream. you tentatively creeped downstairs towards the front door before slowly but carefully removing the curtain to reveal who was standing on the other side of the door.

Eren stood sheepishly, his long dark hair yet again . this time he stood with a crowd of flowers. he had an affliction t-shirt with a white long sleeve underneath. you could see his dc x slayer shoes peeking under through his baggy trousers .

“eren?” you whispered loud enough for him to hear.

“hey beautiful…” he watched as you beamed up at him. your pink silk robe was opening slightly to reveal your cleavage. a matching satin hair band was tied on your hairline to create a cute bow at the top. your smile widened as you saw his gift that he bought.

“oh, i bought this to congratulate you on your book,” he handed the flowers towards you.

“oh thank you eren! please, come inside,” you held a hand on your heart and the other was holding the assortment.

eren sat patiently as you went to put the beautiful plants in water. “so, how’s the book coming along?”

“it’s going…ok, i just need something for the romance part of the book,”

“romance …huh, i didn’t take you for the romance type,” his hand slowly inches towards your face. at this point, your hand rested on his thigh and his layed on your cheek.

“i want you so bad y/n,” you whispered into your ear.

“huh…?” you stumbled on your words.

“if you can huh then you can hear,”

eren watched as your expression changed from thoughtful to bashful. “just tell me…you want me back, please,” his hand slowly stroked against your throat.

“i…”

“you?”

“please, i want you,”

erens mouth found home on yours, his tongue clashing with yours. drool and spit was swapped as the two of you pushed deeper into the kiss. his hand found purchase on your neck whilst yours were placed at the back of his head.

finally breaking the kiss, you looked over to him, eyes bright. “God you’re so hot,”

you just giggled shyly, before squealing as he pulled you on top of him, your crotches directly on top of each other. before you could whine out from the pressure on your cunt, his tongue was shoved down your throat again. he watched as you whimpered into his mouth, both of your hips grinding desperately against each other. deciding to take initiative, your hand goes to his throat and squeezes slightly.

“oh fuck…” you both groaned in unison. your hips never once faltered. you could feel his hard cock twitch under the material of his jeans and your own cunt leaking all over his pants.

you could feel it coming to close. and you could tell he did too. his hands grabbed the fat of your hips almost painfully tight, and his head was thrown back in pleasure. your hips just started to move faster and faster, you could feel your high coming closer and you couldn’t let it go. eren watched as your eyes filled with excitement, his own filling with ecstasy.

sweat formed on both of your foreheads as you pushed harder to strive for your final high.

“mphm…” you groaned out as your cunt pulsed around nothing, cumming all over his trousers, making a mess of yourself. eren was no better, his own pants soiled , so much so, that you could feel his sticky cum attaching itself to your thighs and your labia.

panting out, he let out a satisfied sigh. the sweetness of your cunt wafted into his nose as you moaned out. you were still twitching from your intense high. anyone could hear the loud squelching of both of your privates still grinding against one another.

finally, you lay down on his chest, your face on the crook of his neck. his hand stayed playing with your left butt cheek while another was in your hair.

“what do you say we go for another…” he suggested.

just as you were about to open your mouth to reply, a familiar loud voice stood outside your door, impatient and angry. you both sat up immediately shocked. eren watched as a guilty expression replaced your pleasured one from earlier.

[mrsensitive]

4 times everyone else caught on before the 1 time you and quinn finally did

a good old 4+1 ft. best friend beau & a couple other cameos, some mutual pining and also reader is a costume designer . kind of an elaboration of a lil blurb i wrote a while ago so if it seems familiar no it doesn't 😋

1

You’d never been more grateful for Friday to roll around. You’d had what felt like the longest week from hell and just wanted to take your mind off everything, so when your new neighbour turned best friend Beau texted you to meet him and a couple friends at the bar, the thought that you wouldn’t know half the people there wasn’t enough to dissuade you from joining.

When you arrive, you’re quick to spot the group - Beau hadn’t lied when he said it wasn’t just the team, but he might’ve stretched the truth when he said you already knew some of the guys. A quick once over is enough for you to realise the only other person you really know is Brock. Sure, you had heard of the others from Beau’s stories and the fact that you sometimes watched the games, but you were starting to wonder if you should’ve just gone home to your bottle of wine instead.

Beau is quick to welcome you though, flooding you with the names of everyone you’d yet to meet and pushing you into the seat he’d just vacated.

“Wait here, I’m getting the next round,” he beams at you, a good few drinks in already. “Brock come give me a hand, bud.”

You try to get your bearings a little, looking around trying to commit names to faces since the only two people you knew had left, and you realise mostly everyone is in their own conversations save for the guy on your right. You pause, staring at him trying to remember his name as he watches you struggle, clearly bemused.  

“It’s Quinn,” he offers after a moment or two. He’s laughing lightly and you relax in your seat a little. “Don’t sweat it.” 

You breathe out a smile, “Thanks. I was getting there, y’know.” You pause, taking a moment to get a better look at him. “Hughes, right? I’ve seen you play before. You’re a great skater.”

“Oh uh…thanks.” He shifts a little in his seat. “Beau’s talked about you a couple times actually. So it’s nice to meet you finally.”

You can’t help your eyebrows from shooting up, both of you are equally surprised and amused that you’re even aware of the other. You’re half expecting Quinn to elaborate, scanning his face for any hint that what Beau’s said about you was any level of incriminating, but somehow, you find yourself a bit distracted by the way his hair is curling over his forehead. 

Before either of you can say anything, Beau’s dropped a glass in front of you and inserted himself back in the conversation.

“So what was so terrible about work this week? What’s the drama this time?”  

You let out a sigh, remembering why you’d dragged yourself here in the first place. “Oh, nothing new. They just decided to reschedule all our fittings so we barely had the right costumes prepared - which is just an embarrassing look for me, you know, even if it literally wasn’t my fault. I was running all over the place trying to make it work - and then on top of that I find out they’ve put our costume truck about three states over from where the set is so I’ve got to hassle someone about that and-”

“Costumes?” Your rambling is cut off by Quinn who looks much more interested than Beau, who, to his credit, has heard some variation of this story just about every other week.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a costume designer,” you explain, “I’m working on a movie at the moment.” For some reason you feel rather embarrassed that you didn’t clarify this to him before and you’re hoping the dim lighting is hiding the way you’ve started blushing. 

“I’m going to take this as my cue to leave.” Beau says, already standing up to move across the table, “You tell Quinn the whole back story and I’ll come back when you’re done with that, okay?”

Beau, in fact, does not come back for the rest of the night but you’re so wrapped up in your conversation with Quinn that you don’t particularly notice anyway. Usually you hate talking about yourself, but the drinks have loosened you up and he seems so genuinely curious and intrigued about you. He asks how you met Beau, so you tell him the story of how his 7’s look a little too much like 1’s and you ended up getting so much of his mail that you had to go and confront him about it. You try to ask him about hockey but he seems rather adept at deflecting the conversation back to you every time. You can’t help but bask in the full attention he’s giving you and the more drinks you have, the more you find yourself quietly admiring his bone structure. You’re a little surprised to hear yourself laughing so much and how easily the conversation moves that you can’t quite remember how you ended up discussing how you both think roses are overrated. 

You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you catch Brock nudging Beau and nodding his head towards you across the table.

“You reckon?” Brock asks, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, easily. I’ve been watching them all night.”

2

You pick up Beau’s call almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up? Do you need something?” There’s a tinge of confusion in your voice.

“What? No, I just- I have an extra ticket to the game tonight and I was going to offer it to you if you weren’t being so snappy.” Beau teases.

“Oh,” you let out a chuckle, “Sorry, you just never call. I do happen to be free tonight though, if the offer’s still on the table...”

“Great, I’ll send you the ticket,” you can hear him smiling through the line. “Don’t drive, I’ll give you a lift if you wait a little after the game. Stick around and say hi to some of the other guys too.”

“Sure,” you reply, “I’ll see you later then. Maybe score or win or something? I dunno, make it worth my night?”

“Yeah ok,” you can hear him laughing now, “Will do, just for you. See you soon.”

And even if you were only joking, the team does deliver on your request. You hang by the exit as you wait for Beau, congratulating some of the other guys on the win as they start to trickle out. When Quinn catches sight of you, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and you can’t help the way you mirror it.

“Hey Quinner, congrats on the game,” you greet him, “Big win!” 

You’re mildly aware of the way your heart rate has picked up slightly since he stopped in front of you. You want to believe that it’s just because the handful of times you’ve seen him now have always been aided with a bit of liquid courage, even if you’re currently fixating on his slightly damp hair and the way his bag is slung over his shoulder. Quinn, however, is severely aware of the way his heart rate seemed to stop upon hearing the nickname leave your mouth.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, thanks. I didn’t realise you were going to be here?”

“Beau said he had an extra ticket last minute - enticed me with a ride home, so I’m just waiting for him now.” 

“Yeah, he should be done with the interviews soon - you know, three point night and all,” he laughs, glancing back at the doorway in search of a sign of his teammate.

“Coming from you, mister record breaker!”

Quinn whips his head back around to you, eyes wide as he starts to mumble something to try and downplay his night. He knows he’s blushing from the way he can feel his cheeks burning but he’s hoping it could be disguised as some sort of postgame flush.

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how off guard your comment seemed to catch him. “Surely you’re going out to celebrate?”

“Oh, I don’t know… we’ve got an early start tomorrow…” He rubs a hand at the back of his neck and your eyes flicker to his bicep briefly.

“Hmmm boring,” you tease, “All work and no play I guess.”

Something in your tone has him grinning now. “No rest for the wicked,” he quips.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you’ve had an audience for just about all of your conversation.

“Is this what he looks like when he’s trying to flirt?” Petey asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I guess. Or trying to, at least,” Brock answers, still eyeing the scene in front of him. “How long do we think til they do something about it?”

Beau’s appeared next to them at the door now too, smirking as he watches you and Quinn completely oblivious to everyone else.

“Wanna take bets?”

3

Quinn’s nervous. He’s already texted you to let you know he’s arrived but he’s expecting that you’ll have to turn him away last minute. He’s still in disbelief that he’s even here, despite the fact that you’d offered to have him visit you on set several times already, but he always thought it was just a throw away thing you would say to be nice. He only tells you this about the fourth time you’ve asked, the arrival of the post season working out with one of the quieter days of your schedule, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing in his face about it.

“Quinn. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it. Most of our conversations are about movies, so I just thought you might find it cool to see what it’s like,” you shrug. "I've watched you play games before so it feels kind of fair, right?’

As much as he protests that it’s different, you are kind of right, naturally. He thinks it is extremely cool that this is what you do for a living, and even cooler that you’d even considered to bring him along and show him a part of it. At least, cool is what he’s trying to convince himself he’s feeling about it all. 

When he sees how excited you look, running out to meet him, he once again can’t help the grin that weasels its way onto his face. He holds out the second coffee cup in his hand to you.

“Hey,” he greets, “I brought you a coffee. I stopped on my way here but I didn’t really know what you usually get or if you prefer, like, hot or iced? So I just got you what I get which is-”

You’re pleasantly surprised and amused, letting him ramble a little before you cut him off, thanking him and groaning when you take a sip. “God, thank you. I’ve already had one today but I truly needed this.”

He’s relieved to hear it, immediately relaxing. “Hectic day then?”

“Kind of, but like… A controlled hectic you know?” You pause, giving him a once over, realising he’s a little less jittery than a minute ago - and also that he looks good. You’ve only ever really seen him in very weak bar lighting, or after a hockey game - but definitely never before lunch. The sun looks good on him you think, and you’re rather charmed by the outfit he’s picked out for the occasion but you’re quick to snap yourself out of your thoughts.

“Let me show you around!”

You give him a tour of the set, proudly pointing out how you managed to convince them to move your trailer closer, talking him through your designs you have pinned up and showing him some of the final costumes.

Quinn’s already wide-eyed, kid in a candy store at all of this, staring and asking if he can touch things. He almost doesn’t believe you when you say he can watch them film a scene or two. He’s amazed by the whole set up of it all, the cameras, the monitors, all the people who seem to be constantly walking places very quickly with a lot of purpose. You lead him to your little costume camp in the corner, letting out a chuckle at how impressed he is. 

“Okay, look so I do kind of have to do my job and leave you alone here, but just stay where I tell you to, don’t get in the way and you’ll be fine.” You’ve barely finished your sentence when someone calls your name, so you’re pushing Quinn into an empty chair, wincing a smile at him and scurrying away.

You don’t really get a chance to check back in on him for a good hour or two, but Quinn’s barely noticed the amount of time that’s gone by. He’s shocked at the fact that he’s so close to actors who he actually recognises, but he’s even more in awe simply watching you in your element. He knew you’d downplayed your role to him but even so, he’s mesmerised at the way you’re handling everyone’s questions, how you’re there in between takes to fix collars and ties and things he hadn’t even noticed, at how almost out of nowhere, you suddenly seem to have this commanding yet gracious air of authority around you. He’s never seen or even pictured you like this but he’s completely caught up in it, not realising that one of the makeup artists has been watching his laser focus on you this whole time and sidled up to him.

He doesn’t quite hear her at first.

“I was just asking if you were the boyfriend?”

Quinn’s immediately blushing furiously and he’s only glad that you aren’t there to see it. “No- no, um. Just, uhh, just a friend is all.” 

His response appropriately earns a raised eyebrow.

“Ahhh, okay. Gotcha. Sorry, was just asking,” she pauses, entertained by his spluttering, “She’s rather amazing, you know? Really great at her job and just incredible in general.”

“Yeah, I, uh- I know,” he answers, glancing at you briefly. There’s something in this stranger’s tone that has him slightly confused, wondering why he’s being told this.

She only hums in response before walking away, leaving him to try not to overthink the interaction. He quickly pushes it aside when he sees you making your way over.

“Hey,” you grin, coming to a stop in front of him, “Been having fun?”

“Oh yeah,” he perks up immediately, “Heaps.”

“Great, because we’re starting to wrap up. I’ll take you back out to the entrance, save you all the boring stuff, y’know?”

Quinn’s surprised that it’s already heading into the late afternoon when you exit the studio. He turns to look at you, shoving his hands into his pockets and mustering up as much sincerity as he can.

“Thanks again for having me. It was, um, it was really cool watching you do your thing.”

“Well thanks for finally taking me up on my offer,” you counter, “and thanks for the coffee. I’m glad you had fun, really." You pause, cocking your head slightly, “We’ll go watch the movie together when it’s out.”

This, Quinn is sure, is a throw away line, at least he thinks. You’re not completely sure if you meant it either, but you know you only said it because you knew he would take it as one.

A couple days later you get a text out of the blue from Beau, and then Brock.

Beau: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU TOOK QUINN ON SET???? I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR HOW LONG AND YOU’VE NEVER ASKED ME?!!?!?! 

Brock: I like movies too :))

4

For whatever reason, Beau’s apartment had become the designated gathering spot. You’d already found yourself there a couple times already with the rest of the group, so you didn’t really question it when he ropes you into the games night he’s hosting, claiming they need another person to even out the numbers. It doesn’t occur to you to ask why he couldn’t have asked literally any of the other guys instead, so you don’t realise he has a whole catalogue of excuses ready to cover the fact that he’d been orchestrating a reason to get you and Quinn in the same room again.  

If anyone were to ask Quinn why he was late, he also had his own list of excuses ready to rattle off before he’d admit the truth. He’d spent an embarrassingly long amount of time switching between three shirts knowing that he’d see you - and so what if you’d done the same, as long as nobody else knew? 

Currently, you’re all way too many drinks in, lining up along the couch in preparation for the final tie breaking round of charades. Beau’s couch is definitely not big enough to fit six of you but you all squish in anyway, mostly too drunk or too determined to win to care. You should have expected this level of competition from a group of professional athletes; you've done a good job of keeping up all night, but you’re suddenly very acutely aware of how close Quinn is sitting next to you. You take another hard swallow from your drink before turning your focus onto Beau flailing his arms in front of you.

You manage to keep your cool through several rounds, but eventually you realise Quinn’s thigh has, at some point, ended up pressed firmly against yours. Immediately your whole leg is tingling and your face is flaming up, but Quinn doesn’t seem to show any signs of pulling away, or simply even realising. You blink, trying to refocus, but the only thing your brain seems capable of processing at the moment is the feeling of Quinn’s leg against yours through your jeans. If it weren’t for Beau’s overly dramatic reaction, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed that your team had already lost. 

You move to lean back against the couch - which was a mistake, considering now your shoulders are brushing too, and someone might as well have set your entire body on fire. Your head is starting to spin - must just be the shots catching up, you try to convince yourself - and you’ve drawn your lips into a thin line in an effort not to combust. 

Brock lets out a laugh, clocking your expression. “Alright, no need to be such a sore loser, princess.”

You can feel Quinn turning to look at you, even if you’re desperately avoiding his eye contact. Beau is looking at you now too, eyes flickering over the way you and Quinn are pressed into each other’s sides. He grins, gears already turning in his head.

You hope your laugh sounds convincing. “Yeah, didn’t realise I’d get so into it, huh?”

“We’ll just have to have a rematch another time,” Beau reassures you, well aware losing wasn’t the reason why you looked so distressed. He fakes a look at the clock as you stand up from the couch, having decided you wouldn’t have survived much longer if you didn’t move.

“Well I guess it’s getting a bit late. I think we’re all pretty far gone at this point so everyone’s welcome to crash for the night if you want," Beau offers.

“Dude,” Quinn pipes up, “There’s no way you have enough space for all of us.”

“Well, lucky a certain someone just so happens to live not so far away!” Beau is already shepherding the two of you out of his apartment, still wearing the biggest grin on his face.

Before you can even begin to protest, you’ve already found yourself standing next to Quinn in the hallway. A beat passes, the two of you staring at the shut door incredulously before you finally catch Quinn’s eye, both unable to help the fit of giggles that escapes when you catch each other’s expressions. 

In hindsight, you think this is the exact moment where you lose the ability to deny to yourself that you see him as just one of Beau’s friends. His eyes are a little glazed over from the alcohol, and his lips are flushed the prettiest pink to match his cheeks which are pulled into the widest smile you’ve seen him wear to date, and for the first time you notice exactly just how full his eyelashes are.

“I guess I do have a free couch,” you breathe out once you’ve both calmed down. 

“No it’s fine really, I can just get an uber home, don’t worry about it,” Quinn argues, the slight awkwardness of the situation finally hitting him.

“Quinn, don’t be ridiculous. Your car’s still here, isn’t it? I literally live down the hallway,” you pause, “... like Beau said.”

He swallows, blinking at you for a good while. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure then.” 

He waits for you to tell him that you’ve changed your mind, that actually the boyfriend you’ve never mentioned before wouldn’t like it if he stayed, or anything along those lines - something that would make the whole thing feel a little more believable, but instead, he just finds you looking at him. He doesn’t think he can handle that much longer without buckling at the knees, the way your eyes are searching his face, so he turns and starts walking down the hallway. He goes to ask what number your apartment is when he suddenly feels your soft hand slip into his.

You don’t know what it is. Maybe how nervous he suddenly seemed, maybe the way his hair looked perfectly dishevelled, or maybe in your intoxicated state you’d just finally decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I’m back this way, idiot,” you laugh at him before tugging him down the other way to your door. 

Quinn is sure that his heart is thumping so loudly that you can hear it echoing through the silent hallway, or that you can somehow feel it where your fingers are laced through his but you’re being nice and saving him the embarrassment by not saying anything about it. He’s also hyper aware of how you didn’t drop his hand until you were both inside, even when you were rummaging in your pockets for your keys.

He glances around your apartment, following suit as he watches you kick off your sneakers. He’s overtly aware of the quietness compared to the chaos of just earlier, and the overwhelming sense of domesticity as he trails behind you into your home. 

You watch him as he looks around, trying to find something to do in order to not get distracted staring at his nose. “Want some water?”

“Yeah actually, thanks,” he feels like he’s whispering, like if he speaks any louder you might realise that he is, actually, in fact, standing in your apartment and decide to kick him out. 

He watches you reach on your toes to grab an extra glass from the cabinet and he finds himself endeared by it all - the way your shoes were lined up in the hallway, the sweater left draped over the couch, the lone mug left on your kitchen counter by your coffee machine.

He gestures at what he’s guessing is an open script left on the table next to an array of pens. “New project?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done reading through it,” you answer, “I won't be working on it for several months still, but I haven’t completely decided yet.”

“Is it shooting here as well?”

“Only bits of it. Looks like it’ll be mostly in LA though. And a couple other locations but it’ll be fun,” you shrug, handing him the glass.

“So you’re gonna do it?” 

“Yeah, I think so. Script’s pretty good so far, and it’s an exciting team. Kind of like why not, you know?”

Quinn only manages to mutter out some sort of agreement. He’s surprised by his own disappointment at the idea that you could be moving out to LA, when in the grand scheme of things he’s only known you for about half a year. Thankfully, you interrupt him before he can think about it much more.

“Anyway, I’ll go get some blankets for you. Bathroom’s down that way, there’s extra toothbrushes in the first drawer.”

When he’s back, he almost crumples at the sight of you in your pjs setting up the couch for him. He notices you’ve refilled his glass before you turn around and shove a pile of clothes into his hands.

“Sweats for you, they should fit, I think,” you crinkle your nose. “My room’s down that way, just let me know if you need anything.”

He only manages to get out a small thanks in response. He’s staring at you, he knows that, but he can’t help how soft you look in the dim lighting.

You tilt your head, giving him a small smile. “Night, Quinn.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” he mumbles.

He makes a mental note to both punch Beau and then thank him in the morning.

+ 1

Nothing ever happened after that seemingly eventful night. It’s now well into the next season and you’re thinking that this is just what the dynamic of yours and Quinn’s friendship is like. You’ve gone back to trying to convince yourself that it’s normal - like you also think Beau’s good looking, right? You had a bit of a crush on him too when you first met him, even if that came and went awfully swiftly and you don’t get anything even close to the same kind of head spinning giddiness when he talks to you. Quinn thinks he’s been less subtle about it all, and you think you’ve been dropping hints but apparently your efforts have only been evident to everyone else but each other.

You know that the team has a gala coming up soon. Beau’s mentioned it to you a couple times in his attempt to gauge how you would feel if he forced Quinn to take you as his date. When he tells Quinn his master plan to finally get the two of you together, Quinn almost chokes on his own spit.

“Ask her as my date?! You’re kidding right?” he practically screeches.

“No.”

Quinn stammers, trying to formulate some kind of reply. “I don’t- We’re not- … I’m not doing that.”

Beau groans. “You guys are both such idiots, I’m sick of it. It’s so obvious that you like her and I don’t know how you can’t see that she’s head over heels for you too!”

Quinn only stares at him in response.

“Why won’t you just ask her? The world isn’t going to implode.”

There’s a good minute of silence, the two of them staring at each other waiting for someone to break. Quinn finally sighs, taking a seat on the couch.

“Isn’t she leaving for LA soon?”

“Are you being serious right now? Please tell me you’re not actually this stupid.”

Quinn blinks. “I don’t know. Vancouver and LA are pretty far apart.”

Beau is just about ready to physically knock some sense into him.

“You’re not even in Vancouver half the time anyway. Plus she’s not moving away forever. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

When Quinn doesn’t say anything in response, Beau doubles down.

“If you don’t ask her, I will for you. I’m not lying but you can test that out if you’d like.”

Beau doesn’t believe that Quinn will do anything, but he doesn’t give him much time to prove him wrong anyway. He’s calling you that evening.

“What are you doing Saturday night in two weeks time?”

“What? Nothing, I don’t think.”

“Okay, great. You’re coming to the gala as Quinn’s date then.”

“I’m what?!”

“You heard me.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you home right now?”

“Ye-”

You hang up on him before he can finish the syllable and you’re storming down the hallway until you’re banging on his door. He looks rather calm when he lets you in, but you don’t miss the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You point an accusing finger at him. “Explain it to me again. You want me to do what now?”

Beau rolls his eyes. “You’re free. Quinn’s free. Why not? It’s painfully obvious that you have this massive crush on him.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “No I don’t. And you’re asking me instead of him because?”

“Because he’s being an idiot, like he has been for almost an entire year now.” Beau looks at you and he can tell you could be convinced. “Just say yes. I’ll be there, the other guys will be there, there’ll be free food and drinks. Plus you’ll get to dress up! You’re always telling me you want to have an excuse to dress up yourself instead of other people!”

You can’t deny his last point. Literally just the other week, you’d sent him a link of this drop dead gorgeous dress you’d found whilst sourcing for your next project and complained to him about how you wanted to get it for yourself but had nowhere to wear it to.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. Just say you’ll come as his date. That’s it.”

You pause. Beau finds himself in his second stalemate of the day, but he knows you’re going to give in more easily. He listens to the tick of the clock in his living room, patiently waiting for you to cave.

“Fine.”

You don’t give him a chance to properly react before you’ve flung open his door, marched back to your own apartment and screamed into your pillow about what you’ve said yes to.

Beau should’ve known you were going to be insufferable leading up to the actual night. You spend the entirety of the next week pestering him about what the dress code is, how you have nothing to wear, what to expect, who else is going to be there. He gives you the same answers every time you ask and he promises to go dress shopping with you on Thursday. You’re only the slightest bit more relieved at this, but as soon as you agree, Beau’s texting Quinn that he has about a week to deliver.

Quinn had called you as soon as he saw Beau’s message, apologising and saying that he wished Beau had given him a little more warning so he could have asked you himself (he knows he wouldn’t have) and telling you that you don’t have to go if you didn’t want to. You were barely done freaking out about it yourself, but the way he sounded so completely flustered about it all through the phone was somewhat reassuring. 

When you make your way up the stairs to your apartment on Wednesday evening, you find yourself actually excited to go pick out a dress the next day. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t pulled together some inspiration images, but in your defence, you were just good at your job. Your steps falter a little when you notice a package at your door, but as you get closer, you notice there’s a post-it note over it. 

Been a minute since our mail got confused again :)

– Beau

You’re confused because you don’t remember ordering anything, but it’s definitely been addressed to you. You head inside to open it, brows furrowing when you start to recognise the fabric. Needless to say, your jaw is definitely on the floor when you pull out the same dress that you had sent Beau not too long ago. You’re scrambling to grab your phone to yell at him when you remember they’re currently playing a game at the moment, so you settle for a borderline blasphemous string of texts instead.

Hours later, when you’re still reeling, you get one single message in response.

Beau: Wasn’t me. Was all huggy :)

It feels like the last days left until the gala had gone all too quick yet also taken way too long. You felt like you’d been pulling your hair out about it nonstop, and it didn’t help that the guys had gone away on a roadie in between. 

You’d started getting ready way too early. You couldn’t do up the clasp of your necklace since you weren’t used to having your nails done, leaving you too much time to start wondering if you’d maybe gone a little overboard with it all. You’d been pacing around your apartment for the past half hour trying to occupy your hands with something else instead, waiting for a more appropriate time to get changed. You think you must look like a deranged housewife, washing your dishes and folding your laundry with a full face of makeup and maybe too much diligence.

You’re so caught up in distracting yourself that the buzzer ringing makes you jump. 

“Hey, come on up. I’ll unlock the door, I’ve just got to get changed,” you say over the intercom. 

You run back to your room to pull on the dress you’d been fawning over for weeks, still not entirely sure how either Quinn or Beau had managed to work out the right size for you. You hear the door being opened and Quinn calling out your name just as you’re spraying your perfume. 

“In my room!” You yell back, “One sec!”

When he rounds the corner and lays eyes on you, Quinn’s certain he’s turned completely into putty. He’s never seen you so dressed up and you look so breathtakingly stunning that he almost drops the bouquet in his hands.

You’re equally breathless when you turn around to face him. You didn’t realise that he’d gotten a tie to match, and you wouldn’t know that he’d dragged Petey to help him pick a new suit in an attempt to impress you. You’re both staring at each other for what feels like forever before either of you can manage a word.

“Um, hi,” he breathes, barely audible, “You look- you look really beautiful.”

You can’t hide the blush that’s creeping up your neck, but you don’t try to anyway considering his cheeks have gone a rosy shade to match. 

“Thanks, Quinn. You look really good too.” You don’t notice how he flushes even deeper because you’ve finally noticed the flowers he’s holding, and even more so, how there’s not a single rose in the bunch. “Are those…?”

Quinn suddenly feels embarrassed about the fact he got you flowers. “Yeah, I um, I got- they’re for you.” He feels like a school boy all over again, mentally kicking himself for not being able to get a proper sentence out. He looks down at the stems, rubbing at his stubble. “Did I overdo it?”

You laugh, you’d been fidgeting with your nails the entire time.

“No, I think it’s really sweet.” You take the flowers from him, laying them down on your vanity when you remember your necklace.

“Oh, can you help me with this? I can’t seem to get the clasp.” You hand him the chain and turn, moving your hair out of the way. 

You can smell the waft of his cologne and feel his focus on the back of your neck, suddenly incredibly aware of how close you’re standing. Your mouth has dried, you're pretty sure your ears are ringing and you think you’re fully frozen in your spot.

“There,” Quinn mumbles, barely even able to get the word past the lump in his throat. He’s still thinking about how unreal you look and fighting the overwhelming urge to spin you around and kiss you right then and there. 

You’re both snapped out of the moment when his phone starts ringing. It’s Beau, asking what time you guys are going to arrive.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. See you soon, dude.” Quinn answers, turning his attention back to you. “Ready to go?”

On the way there, you’ve somehow recomposed yourself to manage a somewhat normal conversation. You’re not sure exactly what it is that sent your nerves into haywire in the first place. The fact that you’re so done up, that you’re technically his date, or the fact that he seems just as antsy as you. He tells you he’s a little nervous about the speech he has to make, so you squeeze his hand in reassurance and try to reel your nerves in for both of you.

It’s a lot easier when you get there and see everyone else. You’re reminded that they’re your friends and that this is just another time you get to hang out, even if it’s a lot more fancy and official than what you’re used to. But when you finally go to take your seats after doing your initial rounds of mingling, you still manage to somehow knock your fork to the floor. You bend over to pick it up and you don’t realise Quinn’s covered the edge of the table with his hand until you bump your head into it. Before you can even say anything or just thank him for it, he’s offering to swap forks with you.

“Oh, don’t even worry about it,” you laugh a little breathlessly, “Five second rule, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, but he’s already replaced the fork next to your plate with his anyway. 

Brock and Petey have watched the whole exchange and share knowing smirks from across the table.

Everything else seems to go smoothly. Maybe it’s the soft touches on his arm or on your back, the blushing smiles and longing glances across the room, but something about tonight feels like tomorrow you won’t be able to pretend nothing happened.

Quinn’s speech goes well, and now everyone is up and moving around again. You hang back and let the long line of teammates and attendees go to congratulate him first.

Beau approaches Quinn, interrupting his train of thought.

“Now that the business part is done, you gonna finally make a move or what?”

Quinn’s eyes almost pop out of his head at the idea of this and also the volume at which Beau is speaking.

“Shut up,” he hisses, “She’ll hear you!”

“Doesn’t matter - she’s going to notice anyway with how hard you’ve been staring all night!”

“No I haven’t,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah ok, sure buddy. Just- no time like the present!” Beau claps him on the back and leaves Quinn to shift his gaze back to you. He’s starting to get lost in how at ease you look, talking to some of the other wives, when he realises Beau is right and you’ve caught him staring.

You make your way to him, prodding him gently in the shoulder.

“Told ya you didn’t need to be so worried.”

He’s blushing again. He can’t seem to get a handle on the effect you have on him.

“Yeah, it went alright, I guess. Made it out alive.”

“Well I, for one, think you spoke really well.” There’s a slight teasing in your voice, but you hope he can tell you mean it.

Quinn finds himself lost for words in front of you for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He’s scanning your face and tries not to think too hard before he opens his mouth again.

“Can I kiss y-”

“Please.”

His hands are quick to find your waist and pull you closer as your hands find a place against his chest. The kiss is quick and rushed and almost all teeth from how big you’re both smiling, but you don’t mind it. You feel like the ground’s been pulled out from under you in one fell swoop and you’re free falling but somehow it feels like exactly what you needed.

When you pull away, Quinn’s wearing the goofiest lopsided grin you’ve ever seen and you can only imagine that you look the same.

“I, uh-”

“You’ve got lip gloss on you.”

You’re both giggling as he swipes over his lips with his thumb. 

You’re so lost in him that you almost don’t register all the hollering and clapping from your table. Usually you would hate the idea of so many eyes watching you, but it all feels like such a long time coming that you can’t seem to be even remotely embarrassed about any of it.

[cross-word]

Ethan Landry x Male Reader

Guardian Angel

“Ethan, can you bring the girls to sleep?” my wife told me as i picked up my two daughters fresh out of the bath and ready for bed one of them touched my face “daddy can you tell us a story.” As I set both of them down into their beds I take the tiny frog chair and set it up between them sitting down. I ask them a question “what story would you like to hear?” Both of my daughters look at the ceiling trying to figure out a story they want to hear.

They stared at me “tell us about your first love.” Janis asked “my first love?” i asked “yeah, was it with mommy?” Rachel asked “no, it wasn’t mommy but someone who was close to me” I said.

It was the first day of 9th grade ethan walks up the stairs to only be bumped by some kid “woah, i'm so sorry ethan” Y/N said, ethan stared at him trying to suppress a smile “no it’s ok i wasn't looking y/n” ethan said holding his forearm that started to hurt due to the impact “come on we're going to late” y/n said grabbing ethan’s hand, unbeknownst to y/n ethan was blushing.

“Wait, him? As in a boy? Your first love was a boy daddy?” Janis asked if I stared at her “yeah, he was and he was the best.” Rachel looked at me “even better than mommy?” she asked “some days maybe” i told them jokingly “i'm telling mommy” rachel spoke.

“When did you know you liked him daddy?” Rachel asked.

It was the summer after their junior year Ethan's family had gotten into a rough patch when the eldest son Richie was killed in a drunk driving accident. It took a toll on his dad the most. He was the closest to richie and now that richie died he was a mess “WHY CAN’T YOU BE LIKE YOUR BROTHER ETHAN” his father yelled at him he had been drinking and ethan made a joke about going to his dream school instead of blackmore university like his brother.

Ethan knew his father liked Richie more than him; it was apparent he never had to say it, “BE LIKE RICHIE? RICHIE WAS A GOOD FOR NOTHING LOSER, WHO SPENT ALL HIS TIME GOING TO PARTIES INSTEAD OF STUDYING HE FAILED EVERY TEST HE TOOK DAD, I GET GOOD GRADES I NEVER PARTY AND I ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT MY FUTURE WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THIS” ethan yelled back his father was quiet. Too quiet, Ethan looked at his dad before he could react. His father threw a bottle of beer at his face hitting him on the side of his face.

Ethan’s mom ran from the kitchen “WAYNE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” she said cradling ethan’s bleeding head “oh my god my baby” ethan’s mom said caressing ethan’s face “that little bitch needs to learn respect” his dad said before grabbing ethan’s mom and throwing her to the floor away from ethan, ethan felt nothing but punches and kicks from his father. After he was done Ethan laid there watching his dad walk away “that’ll teach you, stupid little brat, should’ve gotten your mom to abort you when we had the chance” ethan stared at his mom still struggling to stand up from the force his dad used on her.

Ethan got up, his mom staring at his bruised face and body tears running down his face he ran out the front door, got on his bike and left. He peddled far until he was at his best friend's house. Ethan got off the bike rushing towards the door he rang the doorbell until someone opened it “ethan…” y/n said looking at his face “get in here” y/n said leading ethan to his room.

“Stay here” y/n told him and walked out the room. Ethan watched as y/n came back with a first aid kit for the next 30 minutes y/n spent fixing ethan’s face disinfecting every cut and putting a bandaid on it. “y/n why is ethan’s bike on the front lawn” his mom asked, coming in to see ethans face “oh my god” y/n looking at his mom basically pleading “can he stay over tonight” y/n mom looked at them and left the room.

“I don't wanna bother you guys” ethan said getting up when he was stopped. “no, don't ever say that you’ll never be a bother to me” y/n said sitting down next to ethan “what about your mom?” he asked “she loves you, just lay down and go to sleep we’ll deal with this later” y/n smiled at him covering ethan with a blanket.

Ethan woke up to screaming scared he’s over staying, ethan got up ready to leave coming down stair to see y/n yelling with ethans father “HE ISN’T GOING HOME WITH YOUR DRUNK ASS” y/n yelled stopping ethan’s dad from getting in “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING YOU’RE JUST A DUMB KID” ethans dad yelled back “SO WHAT, I KNOW YOU’RE A SHITTY ASS FATHER GET OUT OF MY HOUSE” y/n screamed ethan saw his father fist raise when y/n mom finally said something. “If you lay a single finger on my son I will take you to court. You’re lucky I'm not going to CPS the way Ethan looked when he came to us, being a known abuser as the town sheriff will definitely get you fired, don't even think about it.” Ethan's dad stood still and backed away mumbling stuff before getting in his car and driving away.

y/n and his mom turned to see ethan there “your awake, how was your sleep” y/n said changing personalities from the one he used on his father “im fine, are you ok?” Ethan asked, hugging you. “I'm fine, don’t worry about me Ethan” you said hugging him tighter “I’m sorry he came here” Ethan apologized to your mom “don’t worry about it sweetheart just happy you’re safe” she said as she went to go lock the door.

“If he was your first love daddy? What happened to him, where is he at now?” One of his daughters asked.

“His gone sweetie he did the one thing he was always good at, protecting me” Ethan stared at them remembering the night Y/N died.

It was spring break Ethan, Quinn and Y/N were back from college Y/N woke up when he got a call from Quinn “Y/N GET HERE QUICKLY PLEASE THEIR FIGHTING AGAIN” Y/N didn’t waste a second sprinting towards his car and driving towards their house.

Quinn was waiting outside pacing back and forward and Y/N got out walking towards her “their in there it’s bad y/n” not wasting a second he walked in to see Ethan’s dad with a gun and beer bottles everywhere on the floor. “I fucking hate you” Ethan’s dad yelled at him.

Ethan was curled in a ball with a black eye forming in the kitchen y/n ran up to get the gun away “AND YOU, YOU AND ETHAN AND YOUR GODDAMN FAGGOT LOVE STORY” y/n pushed trying to get the gun out of his grip while y/n and Ethan’s dad were fighting for dominance a gun shot could be heard.

Ethan opened his eyes to see blood on the floor he looked up to see y/n back starting to turn red “NOOO” he screamed he pushed his dad away from Y/N grabbing his crying into his neck.

“Daddy? You’re zoning out” Rachel said Ethan was snapped out of the his mind “y/n was my best friend, and I would never change anything about it” Ethan looked at his daughters “I hope one day you guys would have a y/n in your life some to protect you like a guardian angel” after he was done talking he kissed their heads walking towards his bed off to sleep.

[hymnserendipity]

Cheater Mikey

Angst, afab reader

You and Mikey have been a couple since before Toman was founded, you were ten years old when you confessed to each other, and you've been inseparable ever since, you've been together for eight years in fact. But lately there's something strange, Mikey is cold and all your friends, Draken, Mitsuya, Baji, avoid you. Yet you've done nothing to deserve this treatment, and Mikey avoids the topic, makes love to you as always but something seems off. One morning he sent you a message, asking to meet at the park that is in the middle of your houses.

"Hi love!" You smile, approaching him. "Oh, I see you came" Mikey glanced at you, standing and leaning against the motorcycle, crossing his arms over his chest. He seemed to be in a bad mood, not at all like the usual sunny Mikey.

"Hmmm something happen?" You ask, trying to hug him as you usually do but he stepped back, dodging your attempt to hug him. It was strange, he had never refused you before. "Yeah, something happened. We need to talk." he said coldly, looking at you with a serious expression.

"O-okay"

Mikey took a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. his usual warm smile was gone, replaced by a stone-cold expression "Sit down for a minute" he gestured to a nearby bench. Mikey sat down beside you, but instead of sitting close as he usually did, there was a noticeable distance between you. He was silent for a moment before finally speaking up. "We need to break up" he said bluntly and seriously.

"What??? Why???"

He looked away, avoiding your gaze. his shoulders were tense, and his jaw was clenched tightly "It's just... I'm not feeling it anymore. We've grown apart"he lied, the real reason for the breakup was the girl he met, but he couldn't tell you that.

"But... I don't understand... I didn't noticed." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was still damp from the rain. his usual sunny demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a cold, almost emotionless exterior "I know you care about me, but I don't feel the same way anymore. It's better if we just end this now before it gets any worse"

"Is It because of someone new?"

"What? No, of course not..." he lied again, avoiding your gaze. He couldn't tell you the truth, couldn't tell you about the new girl so he clenched his fists, struggling to keep up the facade.

"I love you. I always loved you.. i thought you loved me too." He flinched at your words, knowing that what he was about to do would hurt you. But he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth. his shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes for a moment before replying. "I'm sorry... I just... I don't feel the same way anymore"

"I... understand." You look away, feeling your harr shatter.

Mikey let out a deep sigh, feeling guilty for hurting you but knowing there was no other way. He stood up, looking down at you with a solemn expression "This is for the best." He said softly, avoiding your gaze.

"Just yours i guess." he flinched at your bitter response, he knew he was hurting you, and it made him feel even worse, but he couldn't back down now. He had already made his decision. "It's not like that..." he said weakly, a hint of hesitation in his voice and he stood there, watching you run away. He wanted to call out to you, to say he was sorry, to tell you the truth, but he couldn't. he clenched his fists tightly, unable to say anything as he watched you disappear into the rain and he stayed like that for a few minutes, still standing in the same spot where you had left him. Part of him wanted to run after you, to fix everything, but another part of him knew that it was too late, he ruined everything between you. Mikey walked over to his bike, sitting down on it heavily, he didn't bother to turn on the ignition or drive away, he just sat there, his mind swirling with thoughts and regrets. he couldn't believe what he just done, how he hurted you so badly. he was angry at himself, angry at the world, and angry at that damn girl who made him do this in the first place. Mikey looked up, surprised to see the girl who was the cause of all this. She approach him and sat on his lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world, completely disregarding the situation he was in. He didn't push her away, but his expression was still cold and distant. He couldn't take his eyes off you in distance as the girl on his lap continued to kiss him. Seeing the pain and hurt on your face made his stomach churn with guilt and shame, but he couldn't bring himself to push the girl off him. For the following days Mikey and the gang continued with their usual activities, but without you, they felt something missing. Mikey tried to ignore the emptiness inside of him, the hole that you left in his heart, but it was impossible. he constantly thought about you, about how he hurt you, but he didn't know how to fix anything. He made love with the new girl just like he did with you. He continued to hang out with the girl in your place, but it never felt the same, he missed your smile, your laughter, the way you always knew how to cheer him up. He knew he made a mistake, but it was too late to fix it. He lost you, and all because of his own stupidity, so he tried to focus on Toman and the gang, but his mind constantly wandered to you. Mikey wondered if you were okay, if you were hurting as much as he was, he wanted to contact you, to apologize, to tell you the truth, but he didn't have the courage. Mikey was getting desperate. He had no way to contact you, and no one knew where you were. He knocked on your door again and again, but there was no answer. he felt like he was losing his mind, not knowing what had happened to you and if you were okay. He could hear sounds coming from inside the apartment, well the one room apartment, confirming that you were there. He knocked on the door again, harder this time, he wanted to see you, to talk to you, to apologize and explain everything "Please open the door" he called out, his voice slightly pleading.

"Go the hell away Mikey." he was taken aback by the harshness in your voice. he never expected you to respond that way, but he couldn't blame you. "Please, just let me explain" he pleaded, continuing to knock on the door as he leaned his forehead against the door, feeling helpless and desperate, he couldn't believe that things were this bad, that you actually hated him enough to not want to speak to him. "Please, I just want to talk" he said again, his voice cracking slightly and he was surprised when you opened the door, but also relieved that he finally got to see you, he looked at you in silence for a moment, taking in your appearance. You looked tired, like you hadn't gotten much sleep, and there was a distant look in your eyes that made his heart ache. "What u want mikey"

he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking.

"I just.. I want to talk. I want to explain. I can't stand this silence between us anymore. I miss you. I miss us." he said honestly, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Oh well you did this all so."he flinched at your blunt response, he knew that he had caused this, but it still hurt to hear you say it.

"I know I messed up, okay? I know I hurt you. But I never meant for it to be like this. I didn't want to lose you like this." he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and desperate.

"Mikey. I was by your side for years. We made everything togheter and you just left me for another person." he closed his eyes, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest, you were right, he had thrown away years of friendship and love for someone he barely knew. "I know. I'm an idiot. I made a huge mistake, and I regret it every day. but please... just let me explain."

"Go on then." he took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to say. "I know what I did was wrong, and I don't expect you to forgive me. But that girl... she was just a mistake, a meaningless distraction. I never meant to hurt you or replace you. I was stupid and careless, and I know that I lost something amazing because of it. I lost you." he clenched his fists, looking down at the ground.

"I know it's selfish to even ask you for forgiveness, but I need you to know that I'm truly sorry. I don't expect you to take me back, but at least let me apologize and explain everything, please.

"You explained. That's it." he wanted to protest, to say more, to beg you to forgive him, but he knew it was pointless. he could see the coldness in your eyes, the hurt and anger that he had caused. he felt helpless, like there was nothing he could do to fix things.

"Okay. I understand." he said quietly, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Why her." he didn't know how to respond to that question. Why her? he didn't even know himself. He had been drawn to her in the moment, and he had let himself be blinded by her presence and the attention she gave him. But deep down, he knew that she could never replace you, that what he had with her was meaningless compared to what he had with you.

"I don't know. I don't know why I did it.

"I don't want to see you again." he felt like his heart had been stabbed, he had known that things would never be the same, but to hear you say that you didn't want to see him again felt like a punch in the gut.

"Please, just... don't do this. We have years of friendship and memories together, and you're going to throw that all away because of this?"

"No you throw everything away. I saved up to live with you, all i ever wanted was you and you left me. I am not coming back to you." he was silent for a moment, fighting the urge to cry, he had never seen you so angry, so cold, and it hurt so much. Mikey could see in your eyes that you truly wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and it broke his heart. "I know. I know I messed up. I destroyed everything we had. but I can't just let you go like this. I can't just lose you.

"Well i do. Have fun with Her." You said, just before smashing the door. Mikey stood there, staring at the closed door as the weight of what he had done sank in, he had lost the most important person in his life, all because of his own stupidity, and he clenched his fists, wanting to bang on the door and beg you to come out, to scream and yell and make you listen to him, but he knew it was futile, he had lost you, and it was all his fault. He stayed outside your door for what felt like hours, hoping that you would come out and talk to him again, but the door stayed closed, and he was left alone with his thoughts. Mikey didn't know what to do now that you were gone, he couldn't imagine his life without you, but it seemed like he had no choice but to live it.

[stephsageek]

New One-shot Alert

My Five X Lila Strip poker one-shot is finally done!

A Preview:

Five expelled his drink, coughing into his fist afterward.

Lila’s eyes widened as she leaned over, patting him on the back a few times as he gasped and sputtered. “I-I’m sorry—” he wheezed. “I-I thought you said ‘strip’—”

“Oh, no. You heard right,” she reassured calmly.

“What the fu-How can-Are you—?!” Five rapidly protested, suddenly squeezing his eyes shut, his expression annoyed and aggrieved in equal turns. “What am I saying? Of course, you’re insane—”

“Oi! You said I get to pick—!”

“Yes, Lila. I did,” Five admitted, his voice strained as he tried to be patient. “But why would you—?!”

“What? Afraid of losing your precious Puritanical sense of propriety because you’re shite at cards—���

“Two things, senior psychopath. One, I am most certainly not ‘shite’ at cards. You must not have read my file too closely while you were at the Commission, because if you had you would know the identity of the only known person to have bested James Hickok in a game of cards—”

“Wild Bill?!” Lila gasped as Five kept talking.

“—Two, you are my brother’s wife—not to mention my best friend!” Five hissed as if worried someone might hear him.

“Aw, old man, I’m touched—!” Lila fawned, only to be cut off.

“Don’t change the subject! Playing strip poker is practically cheating!” he snapped.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease! One, there is no way you are telling me you beat Wild Bill and even think for a second, that we’re not going to play! Two, playing strip poker is most certainly not cheating—”

“How the hell do you figure—?!”

“It’s not like we’d even be touching—”

“We’d be naked—!”

“You might be, loser—”

“Regardless of who might be naked in this scenario, Lila, the point still stands that it is obviously —”

“Have you forgotten that you’ve already seen me starkers as it is?” Lila smirked, folding her arms. “Or am I the only one that remembers?”

Lila watched as a vein began to throb at Five’s temple as he gritted out, “You were trying to kill me; forgive me for being a little preoccupied.”

“Not at all! You honestly ought to thank me for even giving you another chance at eyeing the goods!”

Lila watched in amusement as Five gnashed his teeth in frustration, his face growing red. She was unsure if it was from anger or embarrassment.

“We’re both adults, old man; playing a friendly game! Nothing untoward. You Americans are always so touchy about nudity. There are plenty of cultures where family members see each other naked all the time—!”

“Lila, it’s not because we’re—"

“Besides, the human form is natural; not necessarily only sexual,” Lila reasoned, knowing Five well enough to know that an appeal to his sense of logic would be difficult for him to argue against. Although she could think of one other appeal he’d struggle to overcome: an appeal to his sense of pride.

“You’re just afraid I’ll show you up,” Lila grinned.

She liked the way his eyes blazed when he was truly beginning to lose his patience. The way he clenched his jaw, making a muscle jump in his cheek.

“Or worse, that you might like what you see~” Lila whispered, teasing.

Five’s face went scarlet.

Lila felt her heartbeat quicken.

Lila loved ruffling his feathers, flirting and teasing; taunting and baiting; and disturbing his carefully constructed world.

She loved it from the moment they met, and it had only grown over the years.

She remembered when they'd first been enemies, the way his anger and pain had felt like a balm to her soul.

When his bitterness had tasted so very sweet.

Even now, with his brother—her husband—no one else had ever given her this feeling. That spike of adrenaline and dopamine that rushed through her veins like a drug. That thrill that made her heart race.

Her life felt drab, stifling, and joyless sometimes; like she was dragging her feet through a gray, lackluster existence.

And then Five would come along, brightening her life and splashing her universe in technicolor. If she was Dorthy, he was her Oz and she never wanted to go back to Kansas.

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 15

Everything will be Okay

series masterlist

Previous part: Cinnamon Roll Next Part: Crawl Home to You

Word Count: 6,979

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.

"This is the worst thing I've ever done" Steve complained, puffing out short winded breaths as he worked at the table opposite you.

He decided he wanted to learn how to bake bread after watching you do it so many times. The patiences and techniques behind the art intrigued him, and there was no one better to learn from than you, the best of the best.

You laughed as you watched him struggle to knead the dough on the floured counter facing yours. His cheeks were turning pink and his dough was still shaggy and lumpy, he was completely envious of yours already becoming smooth and bouncy. "Don't look at mine, it's unfair to you. I have experience, comparison is going to kill all your confidence."

"My arms hurt" Steve emphasized.

"Your arms pulled an in-flight helicopter into the top of a building, and single handedly ended World War II. I'm pretty sure they can handle an artisan loaf, Baby." You smiled.

"How long have we been kneading?" He puffed out.

You peaked at the clock, "mmmm, 3 minutes."

"How long do we need to do this?"

"Usually 10"

"Okay, well, you must have arms of steel because this is impossible."

"I believe in you!" You encouraged him. "Use the heels of your palms, push the dough out then pull it back. You can even go diagonally, side to side."

"You're not even out of breath?" He noted in disbelief. "I feel like I'm asthmatic again."

"Do you need an inhaler? I'm sure I can find you one" A giggle slipped past your lips.

"You're a super soldier." Steve stated, his arms coming to a stand still to take a break. "There's no way someone can just do this."

"Here, let's swap. I got a good start on this one so it'll be easier for you." You said walking over to his side of the table, and taking over his dough while he moved over to yours.

"See, much easier. Now I'm a bread master!" He exclaimed, working with your dough that was already almost completely smooth rather than his shaggy mess.

"I knew you could do it! Great job, Stevie" You smiled.

"Thank you, thank you." He accepted your compliment.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as the sound of music filled your ears, you were obviously very concentrated on fixing the monstrosity of a dough pile Steve had left you.

It was sticking to every square inch of your hands, yet also incredibly crumbly and dry. You had no idea how he even went about creating such a substance, but you sure as hell were going to make it work, and you definitely weren't going to say anything about it.

He knew it wasn't correct, it was written all over your face but that made him happy. Watching you try to work with the crumbly goo with furrowed eyebrows and a smile that you tried to hold back warmed his heart, you were always so kind and encouraging.

"So..." Steve broke the silence.

"So?" You acknowledged.

"I was thinking."

"Oh gosh, that's scary..." You joked.

"Our anniversary passed not too long ago..." He mentioned, causing you to look up at him with a fond look on your face.

"That was six months ago" You pointed out, unsure if not too long was the proper description of how much time had actually passed.

Once all of the scary bumps that came along with establishing a new relationship were smoothed out, unlike the dough beneath your hands, your relationship with Steve was so smooth it glided by effortlessly and fast.

The concept of time since the blip in general felt quite odd, it felt like five years had passed by in the blink of an eye, yet the way of living with only half the population was so normal and routine now you couldn't imagine a time in which you lived a normal life before the blip.

That's exactly how you felt about your time with Steve as well. He moved in permanently next door, then before you knew it his lease was up and he moved in to your house. The spaces that were once yours were now yours and Steve's.

Four and a half years deep into your official relationship with the man and you couldn't even remember a time in which his easel wasn't always displaying a half completed work of art in the corner of the living room and there wasn't a Captain America suit tucked away in the very back of the closet, hiding away in a garment bag.

The two of you created the simple, care free life of your dreams. One in which the biggest struggle you faced on the daily basis was keeping the bakery stocked despite the ever growing crowds, and missing Steve whenever he was away on business to the compound in New York.

"So our anniversary is coming up!"'He enthused.

You laughed at his change of words, "only six months away!"

"Can you believe that four and a half years ago I waltzed in here for a cookie, and that simple choice single handedly changed both of our lives?" He questioned.

"Wow, kneading bread makes you so philosophical." You noted. "What a great choice you made, just goes to show that cookies really are the better part of life."

"You're the better part of my life, sunflower." He purposely cheesed causing you to look back up at him once more.

"How sweet" You acknowledged. "If my hands weren't covered in dough I'd reach up and boop your nose."

He laughed while he continued kneading your loaf that he was definitely going to claim as his now. "Maybe we could spend our half-anniversary in New York?"

Steve was going through a phase in which you could've never ever predicted, he hated going up to the compound now. He dreaded work trips, he hated how cold his room in the compound always seemed to feel, he despised all the memories that came to mind when he walked around.

From what you could understand through multiple conversations about this, he just didn't like being away from you. Being away from you when the blip happened and having no control over your arrest traumatized him in a way he would never admit, but in a way you could see in his eyes every time he had to leave town.

Regardless of what it was that made him resent the compound so much, you knew that it was a whole lot easier for him when you tagged along. So now he found a lot of creative reasons to try and drag you to New York.

Each reason was more creative than the last, and you said yes every single time he asked. At this point in your relationship, you were pretty sure you've spent over four months time in New York and it was starting to feel like a second home.

"You know you don't really need a reason to get me to New York right?" You smiled. "I'd love to spend our half anniversary with you, and I'll go with you to wherever you need to go."

"But coming up with a reason is half the fun" Steve admitted.

"Is this fun?" You questioned, motioning to the dough in your hands.

"This is exhausting!" He answered honestly, earning a laugh from you.

"You know what I love about going to the compound with you?"

"That Nat is there?" He questioned.

"That I get to learn about all the cool things you do for once. It's like going to the Avengers bakery and kneading the Captain America loaf!" You explained. "But yeah, I do love seeing Nat."

Steve giggled at your analogy, loving every second of watching your skillful hands try their absolute hardest to make his faulty dough pile work. "I'm always worried that you might be bored whenever I drag you with me."

"Bored?!" You emphasized. "My love, I'm a civilian in the Avengers compound. There's absolutely nothing boring about that."

"Okay, so next week you'll come with me?" He asked just to make sure.

"Of course" you reassured.

"Woohoo!" He shook his shoulders and hips in a little happy dance, hands sill focused on the dough. "Best day ever!"

You laughed at his response, "if this is the best day ever, then I think we should get out more."

"Okay, now is your chance to be honest with me." Steve prompted. "Does that dough lump have any potential at all of becoming anything close to a loaf of bread?"

"You know I love you very, very much?" You smiled, batting your eyelashes.

"Of course I do." Steve giggled.

"We're gonna have to squish this." You told him honestly. "But the bright side is that you're doing so well kneading that loaf, it'll be the prettiest, glutinous loaf to ever come out of this kitchen!"

"You said that so nicely, I'm not even upset about it" Steve shrugged, prompting you to smile.

You walked over to him and rocked up on your tippy toes before smacking a kiss to his cheek. "You're wonderful, we'll try again soon."

Before you knew it, you were right back in New York, smack dap in the compound. Whenever you were here you completely understood that Steve was here to work, so you never expected him to keep you entertained by any means. So you always brought your laptop and took care of business from the comfort of his room or the living room depending on what him and Nat were up to that day.

And 100% of the times you stepped foot into the Avengers home, whoever was lingering around always asked for you to bake them something, and you were always happy to say yes.

This particular night, Nat requested a chocolate chip cheesecake. After going to the store to get everything you needed, making all the parts and popping it in the oven, you started to do the dishes.

Muscular forearms wrapped around your stomach from behind, and the front of Steve's body warmly pressed against your back.

"How's it going, baby?" He questioned.

"Good, almost done in here." You responded while enjoying every second of his embrace. "How are you? Sleepy?"

"So tired." He confirmed. "I have a few hours of work left to get ready for the support group tomorrow but I think Nat is wrapping up for the night. You'll be okay?"

"Of course, I still have to input payroll and enter the supply delivery invoice for the bakery so I have plenty to do." You grinned, wiping your hands off so you could turn around to face him. When you did, you couldn't help but to admire him. His hair, his cute outfit, the fond yet tired look in his eyes. Reaching up, you squeezed his shoulders to try and relax his tense posture as his hands made their way to your hips. "You're so beautiful."

His cheeks turned pink before dropping his head onto your shoulder. "You're beautiful-er."

"Why does it have to be a competition? Just accept your handsomeness and move on" You giggled at his shyness, even after four and a half years together.

"Becauseeeee" he complained. "I'm lucky to have you, and I'm so happy you're here. Then, you're always really nice to me and all the people here that I love and I just can't even process how sweet you are."

You smiled before you both mutually leaned in for a kiss. "I promise you that I feel like the lucky one."

"Impossible." He shook his head in denial with his cheeks stilly adorably rosy. "Thank you for baking for us."

"Anytime, you know I love it."

Steve nodded in agreement. "I'll see you in a few hours?"

"I'll be here." You gave his shoulders another good squeeze. "We'll get those pretty eyes of yours some good rest."

By the time Steve finished up work and made his way back to the living quarters, it was already way past the bedtime he subconsciously made for himself to keep up with living with a baker. 10 at night felt like he had pulled an all nighter, and it seems as though that's how you felt as well considering he found you and Nat asleep on the couch.

Empty plates on the coffee table with Oreo crumbs being the only evidence of the cheesecake you made hours prior, and a movie that Steve had never even heard of playing on the TV provided the only source of light in the big space.

You and Nat had obviously gotten close and comfortable with each other, the shared blanket across your laps and your head plunked over onto Nat's shoulder with her head on top of yours made Steve smile and feel endlessly happy.

As much as you loved Nat, Steve knew Nat needed every drop of love and friendship you could give her. You both knew she was struggling ever since the blip, she spent every waking moment trying to monitor the world and find a solution. Steve didn't even know she was capable of settling down enough for even just a few hours to be able to fall asleep while watching a movie in the first place. You weren't just his sunflower, but everyone's who was lucky enough to earn your love.

Though he hated to break up the adorable scene in front of him, he was just as tired as the two of you evidently were and knew he should get you to bed.

He started by waking up Nat considering you were stuck beneath her. She was a light sleeper so it didn't take more than gently shaking her arm to wake her up, and she came to her senses quickly enough to immediately recognize what Steve was about to do.

"Good morning." Nat grinned, not lifting her head from the top of yours.

"Morning." Steve smiled. "Any chance I could get my girl back so I can send you two off to bed?"

"No. She's mine now." Nat denied. "Shes so cute and cuddly like a little puppy."

"You can have her back in the morning, but if she doesn't get some real sleep she gets a little grumpy." Steve bargained.

"Fine, but she's mine tomorrow. We're gonna go run some errands and grab lunch together."

"That sounds great, you could use a few hours away from this place." Steve encouraged.

"Just for that comment, I'm staying home." Nat joked.

"I will literally pay for both of you to go get your nails done if that means you'll get some fresh, non recirculated air." Steve sassed.

"A manicure and I get to take your girl out? Sign me up." She continued joking.

"The only conditions are that you go get some sleep and let me have nighttime custody of her so that she can get some sleep too."

"You're such a dad." She stated while carefully nudging your head off of her shoulder, then slowly standing up when she had successfully moved you off of her.

"Can I get you anything before you head off to bed?" Steve checked in.

"No, I'm okay. Thank you." She approached him and squeezed his shoulder before he just pulled her in for a hug anyways. "Goodnight, Rogers."

"Night, Romanoff." He reciprocated before letting go and she walked off into her room.

Now, he had you. His precious little lump on the couch. The dishes on the coffee table could be taken care of in the morning, and the TV would auto shut off in an hour or two. So he picked you up and held you tightly in his arms, and you immediately snuggled into neck.

He could tell you woke up at some point considering you started leaving little kisses to his exposed skin before he made it to his room. You were already in your pajamas ready to go, so he gently laid your down on the bed before he changed into some pajama shorts and brushed his teeth before laying down next to you.

Surprisingly, you were still awake and quick to pull the blankets over the two of you as you settled into each other. Appreciating the warmth of his soft bare skin, you laid your head on his chest and wrapped your arm tightly around his stomach, hand resting on the side of his rib cage.

You placed a little kiss to his collar bone before propping yourself up a bit on your arm to spark up a conversation you needed to get off your mind before you could truly get some restful sleep.

"How was the rest of your day, honey?" You questioned as one of his hands slipped up the back of your crewneck, the other drew little circles onto your hip.

"It was okay, pretty routine." He responded softly. "How's Nat doing?"

"That poor girl needs to get a life away from all of this." You sighed.

"I know" Steve nodded in agreement. "It's really hard to take a step back when you feel directly responsible, but it's not healthy. I've been encouraging her to get out more but she doesn't listen."

"I invited her to stay with us in Greenwood in a few weeks, hopefully she takes me up on that." You moved your hand up to his chest.

"That would be really fun." Steve grinned. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Mhm, I mostly worked the whole time though." You admitted. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something before we sleep."

"What's going on?" He asked, you could tell he was paying a little closer attention now.

"So I ran some numbers on profit and what not, and just for shits and giggles I reached out to my lender and contractor to see if this was even a possibility when I had the idea but now that it's looking very possible, I wanted to see how you felt about this..."

"About what?" He raised an eyebrow in anticipation.

"What would you think about me opening a second location of the bakery?" You asked.

His face immediately lit up in a big smile. "Darling, that's incredible! You should absolutely do it if you feel comfortable enough."

"I do feel really good about it." You confirmed. His happy response made your heart soar. When you first opened Nice to be Kneaded, your last partner ridiculed you every single day. He thought the idea of owning a business would simply be too much of a challenge for you. He told you that you'd never succeed, that it would go under and cause debts for the rest of your life. Though you were at a point in your relationship with Steve where you never doubted his ability to be a kind person, his kindness still made you happy every single day. "The reason I really wanted to ask you is because I was advised the best location to break ground in would be New York."

His big smile grew even wider, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with adorable smile lines. "Are you for real?"

"Yeah" you giggled at his response.

"That makes me so happy!" He pouted his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm so proud of you."

"So I take it that you think this is a good idea?" The smile never left your face.

"I think it's the best idea you've ever had." He exaggerated.

"Then I guess I'll give it the green light first thing tomorrow morning." You settled the issue then settled back into his body.

The two of you talked for a little while about what life would look like with another bakery in New York. Both of you traveled back and forth so often now that dividing your time between two places was already second nature. He even pitched getting the two of you an apartment somewhere between the city and the compound so you both felt more at home when away from Greenwood. Though you loved the idea, you encouraged him to let all these thoughts settle for a day or two until you had a better idea on the logistics of this new endeavor. Besides, it was already late and you were both tired, there was nothing you could even arrange until the morning.

Though you felt settled and completely relaxed snuggled up to him, you played with his hair and tried to get him to relax too. You could feel his tension, but it was normal. No matter how exhausted he was, if he was at the compound his mind was busy and never quite turned off. His thoughts shifted from the happy thoughts of a future where the two of you hopped from bakery to bakery, big city Avenging to a small town simple life to something that had nothing to do with the sweet girl in bed giving him the most delightful cuddles he could've ever wanted.

You knew he was enjoying spending time with you even if his mind was up in the clouds, his hand that never stopped drawing shapes into your back told you that loud and clear.

"What are you thinking about, love?" You asked.

He let out a sigh and his eyes never left the ceiling, then his lips pressed into a straight line, then a forced grin and he finally looked at you. "What do we do if we can't find a way to undo what Thanos did?"

"What do we do," You motioned to the two of you "or what do the Avengers do?"

"Both. Either." He said, desperate to hear the right answer he couldn't find.

"Well I think both have the same answer." You shrugged. "Acceptance, then moving on."

He gave you the most adorable stink eye you've ever seen, so cute you had to hold back a giggle. "Why does everyone say that?"

"You preach it every time you hold a support group, no?" You questioned.

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Civilians aren't responsible for what happened, they deserve to live their lives exactly how they would if this never happened." He explained.

Whenever he spoke about the situation, you could feel a genuine pain in your chest. His feelings about the snap were like a rollercoaster. Some days, he could see the benefits, he could almost understand why Thanos did what he did. He could go about his day with acceptance, go to sleep with the intention of continuing to rebuild tomorrow. Then sometimes he'd wake up that next morning feeling the weight of every blipped person on his shoulders. As if he was the one who decided this needed to happen. That weight seemed to double every time he was in New York.

So with an ache in your heart, you tried to put a bandage over his. "Right now are you looking for the truth, or are you looking for reassurance?"

He groaned at your level-headedness, before shoving his face into your neck. "I'm looking for anything or anyone to just tell me it's going to be okay."

Understanding now that he needed reassurance instead of actual logical advice, you caressed the back of his head with your hand and used your other arm to hold him safe and sound against you. "Of course it's going to be okay, sweet boy.

"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be so... grim, I just- I have to be strong all day every day for everyone else and sometimes you're the only one who can be strong for me." He admitted.

You kissed the top of his head a few times before providing the words he probably really needed to hear. "Life was okay yesterday, and the day before that, and it'll continue being okay tomorrow, and every day after that just like it has been for the past five years. Nobody blames you for what happened, and all of you guys deserve to move on too, not just civilians. The ground is still under your feet, the sky is still above your head and I'll never leave your side. The sun and moon are still taking turns, so I'm pretty confident when I say that everything is fine."

"That was great" Steve mumbled into your neck.

"Yeah? You feel any better?" You questioned with a smile.

"Mhm, I'm gonna use that in the support group tomorrow."

You smiled, though he couldn't see it before squeezing the back of his neck. "I love you, you're not going to bring back half the population from bed."

"I love you too, should I get up?"

"Go to sleep" You whispered directly into his ear, earning his sweet laugh that you loved so much.

"You first, traitor." Steve said playfully.

"Traitor?! Why am I a traitor?" You asked, feigning offense.

"You we're cuddling Natasha and not me." Steve fake cried.

You laughed before stating "Excuse me?! You've kissed Nat before, so I don't want to hear anything about my cuddles, sir!"

"Ugh?!" Steve was immediately taken back. "She kissed me and it was for a mission! Don't even start with that!"

You couldn't help but continue laughing at how flustered that statement made him. "Poor, Stevie! Your cheeks are so pink."

"I miss 10 seconds ago when you didn't bring that up." He pouted, a smile prevailing past his attempts to pretend like this conversation wasn't funny. "It was a life or death escape situation and we've never done anything romantic since then, okay?"

"I'm not bothered, baby" You continued smiling while prying his hands away from covering his face. "Were your bothered by our cuddles?"

"No, not at all." He denied. "I actually thought it was really adorable, I was just joking."

"And I think it's really cute that you and Nat shared a smooch" You pinched his cheek between two fingers.

"She implied that I was a bad kisser, by the way." Steve giggled. "So, neither of us enjoyed that experience."

You laughed at the confession before cooing, "awww poor, Stevie. Did that hurt your pride?"

"It wasn't a fair assessment, I wasn't ready for it." He defended himself.

"Exactly, you're a great kisser." You smoothed over the review that obviously stuck around with him for a while. "I know from experience!"

"Thanks, Baby. I appreciate your input on the matter." He gave your hip a nice squeeze.

"I'll be sure to talk to Nat about it in the morning to try and sway her opinions on it ." You joked.

"Absolutely do not do that" His eyebrows raised in horror.

You laughed once more before cupping his face and laying a long one on him. "I would never."

"Good, cause I think the sleepiness has taken over the both of our brains and made us a little crazy." He smiled.

You rested your head back onto its rightful spot on his shoulder, your hand rested over his heart and his free hand that wasn't on your back lovingly wrapped around your wrist. "Are you going to be able to shut your brain off long enough to fall asleep?"

"Of course" He appeased your worries about him. "I always sleep well when you're with me. You're like a little sleeping pill, the second you fall asleep on me, you put me to sleep too."

"Cheese ball" You poked fun at him with a content smile as you closed your eyes and wrapped the blankets tighter around the both of you.

"I might be cheesy, but I always will be. And I'm proud of it!" He agreed.

"I love it so much." You admitted. "And I love you so much."

"I love you too." He kissed the top of your head. "Goodnight, Sunflower."

"Sweet dreams, Stevie."

Not even two whole minutes of silence and attempts at sleeping went by before Steve gasped.

"Wait... are you asleep?" He asked, using his hands to dramatically shake you. "Wake up! This is important!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" You alerted his urgency. "Jeez dude, you're scrambling my brain."

"Oh good! You're awake!" He said. You didn't have to see his face to know he was wearing a big sarcastic smile. Steve's favorite hobby was definitely being a little shit.

"What a blessing." You mumbled.

"I forgot to ask you out on a date tomorrow night!" He enthused.

"Sorry dude, I think we're better just as friends." You carried on the tradition of your favorite inside joke.

"Sooooooo... should I cancel the engagement ring?" He quipped.

Recently the two of you were talking about getting married a lot, and if there was two things you both agreed on it's that a marriage was definitely in the books for the two of you soon, and that being engaged should never be truly be a surprise. Sure, time and place of the proposal as a surprise was the fun part, but both of you setting clear intentions and a well timed future that flowed at a comfortable pace for the two of you was important.

"A date sounds great!" You overly enthused.

"Great! I made dinner reservations without asking first so I'm glad you said yes."

"Risky business, Rogers." You smiled.

"Okay now go to sleep." He giggled.

"You first..." You poked his chest with very low effort.

When the morning came, you were up and out way before Steve was to start your morning with Nat. She wanted to get back to the compound before a planned call with affiliates of the Avengers, so the two of you snuck out before most of the compound was awake. Much like most mornings when you woke up before Steve, you covered him up with the blankets nice and snug, kissed him goodbye, and wished him a great day.

A nice long walk and chat followed by coffee, breakfast, and a nice relaxing manicure had Nat feeling brand new.

You dropped her off at the compound then left again to meet up with a friend of yours that lived pretty close by. While catching up on each others lives for a few hours, Steve called you.

Figuring he didn't realize you were busy, you denied the call to clue him in to text you instead. You often times did this if he needed to get through to you at work. But this time, your sunflower necklace lit up four times, a number that didn't have a code attached, then your phone rang again.

Figuring it was probably important, you excused yourself and quickly picked up the call.

"Hi, baby." You spoke timidly into the phone.

"Hi, I'm sorry to interrupt I know you're busy." He sighed. You could tell by his tone that his brain was fried.

"No worries, is everything okay?" You questioned.

"Remember Scott Lang? Ant-Man?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah I do." You nodded though he couldn't see you. "He was blipped right?"

"You see, that's the weird part." Steve puffed out a confused chuckle. "He's at the compound. He just... showed up."

"What?!" You said louder than you probably should, earning weird looks from strangers around you.

"Yeah, he was stuck in the quantum realm and now he's here, and we think-" He started but cut himself off to think about how he was going to phrase this without worrying you.

But the pause was deafening. "You think what?"

"I think you should make your way back here whenever you're done with your friend so we can talk about it more."

"That sounds so scary" You admitted.

"No, everything is fine. I promise." He reassured you.

"Should I come home right now?"

"No, baby, it's okay" He tried to calm you down once again. "Nothing to be anxious about. I just think we need to visit Tony and get a few other ducks in a line and I want to make sure I can get you someplace safe before we start looking into this more."

"So you guys found some good hope?" You asked, this time with a smile knowing that's exactly what Steve needed.

"A lot of hope and possibly the craziest pipe dream of all time, but we can get into that when you get here, okay?"

"Okay" You sighed. "Everyone's okay?"

"Everyone is fine." Steve smiled. "I want you to keep having fun with your friend. I'll see you later."

"See you soon. Love you"

"Love you too."

Though he tried his hardest to reassure you that everything was fine, you couldn't clear your head of the endless possibilities of what this could mean for the future of the whole universe. Those thoughts didn't even allow you to fully appreciate or give your undivided attention to your friend, so you called it a day as soon as you could. And when you arrived back at the compound, you immediately spotted Steve sitting outside on a bench.

You could tell his mind was occupied by a billion racing thoughts, his breathing was steady and there was a pinch in his brows.

Approaching slowly and sitting next to him, he wrapped you up in a side hug before kissing your temple and letting you go. "What's going on, Honey?"

He sighed in appreciation as your hand found its way to his back, rubbing long, firm strips up and down to comfort him. "We think we can time travel."

"What?" Your hand stopped in place.

"Go back in time before Thanos, get the stones from a bunch of different points in time, snap again." Steve explained like it was the most simple idea in the world.

"But..... how?" You we're blown away by the possibility, but the biggest part of you was terrified of what that meant for him, the world, and the entire future.

"Something to do with pym particles and a quantum tunnel, I don't really understand it." Steve explained, his mind was wandering miles away from him. "We have Bruce en route to work on that, but we're going to get Tony. Try to assemble the whole team again."

You didn't quite have the words at the moment, nor the time to even process this as a possibility. Whenever you couldn't quite grasp a concept that was much larger than you, but whenever you felt so tiny in the vastness of the universe, Steve was always there to put you on his shoulders and make you feel big again. "How do you feel about this?"

"I feel ready to just get it done." He explained.

"Are you scared?" You plopped your head down onto his shoulder, he nestled his cheek into the crown of your head.

"No" He denied softly. "Are you?"

"If you're not then I'm not" You smiled. That was a lie, but you always tried to not burden him with your own fears.

Though letting him out of your grasp and straight into battles often appeared in your own nightmares, you reeled in your feelings as to not disrupt his own peace. As often as you wanted to tell him to be careful, beg him not to do risky things like go to space in a ship being piloted by a raccoon to kill a titan that killed half the universe, you trusted him. His entire life was rich with risk assessment that only made him more and more successful the more he lived.

So if he wasn't scared, you'd try not to be either.

"Well, maybe that's a lie. Maybe I am a little scared." Steve retracted his statement.

"Well shit" You joked, earning a laugh from the sweet man.

"I'm scared it's not going to work, and I'm scared of putting anything on the line when my only goal for the future is a life with you." He admitted. "Everything else, I'm not scared of."

This time, your arms wrapped him up and didn't let him go. He was letting his Steve Rogers shine through in a place you typically only saw Captain America. Though he would argue that those two people were the same, you thought he was so very wrong.

Steve was still the little guy he once was. Sensitive and gentle, he'd cry over videos of cute animals doing cute things, decorate cookies with you and asked to be cuddled for as long as he could get you to stay still. But Cap... Cap was strong. Nothing could tear him down. When the uniform was on or public and teammates eyes were on him, he had to be the leader. He stood tall, refused to shed a tear regardless of any circumstance thrown his way. Everyone looked at him to guide them through.

You loved both versions of him, and both were truthful of his character, but it was also true that Steve was a version of himself he was only comfortable showing to the people he loved the most.

So you gave Cap the space he needed to be firm and strong, and gave Steve the space he needed to be vulnerable. Sometimes that looked like a little snuggle on a bench outside of the Avengers compound.

Very surface level and as deep down as could be, he knew that Cap couldn't be the fighter he was without you nurturing Steve. He was strong because you were compassionate, and everyday he amounted his power to you.

"I love you so very much," you started.

"But?" He raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the kicker.

"But doing this is exactly what you need in order for you to live the life you want." You explained. "You and I both know you'd live the entire rest of your life with guilt if the Avengers don't find a way to fix this. And though I don't agree that any of this is your fault, I know you feel that burden every single day. So in a certain way, I think for once, this is a great fight for yourself."

He sat and considered it for a second. "I don't have it in me to fight for myself, so I'm going to consider this a fight for you."

"A happy, relaxing future with you is all I want." You kindled his fire. Though you wished he could fight for himself, any incentive to get him through would work in this moment. "And i'd love to see Sam again and meet Bucky."

"I miss them so much" Steve stated, you could hear the sadness in his voice.

You lifted your head to give him a kiss. Your soft lips mingled for a little while before pulling away and resting your forehead against his. "Everything is going to be okay."

"I think so too" He agreed.

"And if it doesn't pan out the way you all hope, then I hope you know that everything will be okay that way too."

"Well that's not an option." He gently shook his head.

"Hard headed!" You pulled away and raised your hand to gently poke him right in the center of his forehead. He laughed, knowing his words would irritate you. "You drive me crazy!"

"I love driving you crazy" His smile prevailed.

"Really? I couldn't tell." You said sarcastically, feeling the effects of his contagious smile.

"And I'd love it even more if I can keep annoying you on our date tonight." He brought up.

"Stevie" Your face softened. "We can reschedule that if you need to, you know I understand."

"No, I definitely don't want to cancel that." He denied firmly. "Not to bring up the past or anything, but the last time I rescheduled a date it didn't turn out too well for me."

"Awwwww" You cooed. "Classic Cap history"

"Yeah, and we're rewriting it because I'm not doing that again" he said with a chuckle.

"I'm more than happy to help you out with that" You agreed, giving his leg a little squeeze. "How's Scott doing? I'm sure this is a lot to process."

"He seems to be doing alright, but that leads me to something Nat and I talked about that I wanted to present to you."

"What's up?"

"It's no secret that you're kind've one of the most amazing and comforting humans alive, and we were supposed to go home in 2 days but..." He took a moment to find the right words. "I'm my best when you're around, and whether you've noticed or not, everyone is happier when you're here. So we were wondering if you could stay a little longer just to kinda help keep spirits up. I know you have the bakery at home but it could be a pretty crucial part in saving half the world."

"I can't imagine I'd have any crucial part in any of that, but I'll stay for you alone." You giggled.

"Obviously I'll bring you home before the time travel happens because it's such unknown territory, I'd want you far away from the compound. But we're going to bring everyone we've got here, including Thor who we heard is going through a rough patch. I think your love would go a far way."

"And cookies" You grinned.

"Cookies would definitely help."

"Can Rocket eat chocolate chips?" You pondered.

"He's a raccoon, not a dog." Steve reminded you.

"That doesn't answer my question." You eyebrow raised. "What about Nebula? Do cyborgs eat food? Ooh! I know Bruce likes chocolate, and Tony likes hazelnut because they had those Ben and Jerry's ice cream flavors so maybe I'll make Nutella cookies so it's the best of both worlds. Do you know what Rhodey likes? I have Nat covered. Thor probably li-"

"Baby, Baby" Steve cut you off with a giggle. "Don't stress yourself out now. You're not here to take care of us, just keep being you"

"This is me." You laughed. "Have you ever seen me not like this?"

"You know what? That's fair." He agreed.

"Ooh! And I bet Nat knows exactly what Clint would want!" You chirped. "...I should call the bakery..."

Next Part: Crawl Home to You

Tag List: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @theroyalmanatee @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945

[graciegoeskrazy]

Instead of living in your head

ross Macdonald + daughter!r

warnings: angst, lil bit of yelling, crying, r has dyslexia, uncle matty lolz, r is 11, tall ross with lil y/n oh my hearttttttt, barely proof read, idk what else

a/n: told ya i’d get this done tnt! Thank you tot he anon who requested this i ran right to the computer after getting the request.

“Why must the parent-teacher conference be tonight? And why are you so stubborn about going to all of them? You already know I’m doing fine in school.” You groaned from the back seat.

Ross kept his eyes on the road, not giving into your antics, as cute as they might be. “Oh, how terrible. God forbid I care for my daughter and help her during her school years.”

You smiled. “You really don’t have to go, you see my grades, they’re good.” You told him you just wanted to spend a quiet night with your father, which wasn’t a lie technically, but there was a bigger part that you didn’t want to tell your father.

You knew you were struggling. You knew this ‘issue’ was getting worse. For years, you were able to get by in school. Your grade wasn’t the best compared to your other stellar grades, but you kept it up. Until now. It wasn’t that you weren’t trying. If anything you were trying your hardest. It’s just as time went on and you got older, the harder it got. But you were determined to continue on as if nothing was wrong.

“I’ll only be gone for a few hours. Plus you don’t have to go with me, you get to stay with your uncle.” You smiled only a little bit. You figured that there could be a chance the topic won’t come up.

In complete honesty, Ross forgot this parent teacher conference was happening, which led him to texting Matty last minute.

ross | What are you doing tonight?

matty | getting drunk and crunk and making love to my wife

ross | Do you think you could add watching y/n for a few hours somewhere in between all that?

matty | oh for sure

matty | of course she calls upon her favorite uncle in her time of need

ross | George was unavailable…

matty | ffs

ross | Be there at 5.

The front door opened with a whirl as soon as you stepped out of the car door. Matty stepped out with his arms opened wide. You ran to him. “Uncle Matty!”

He scooped you up and lifted you in his arms. “Hey, angel! There’s my favorite niece!”

You looked at him with a pointed look. “I’m your only niece.”

His smile never faltered, “Which means you’re my favorite!”

Ross walked up by this time. “Thanks for doing this last minute. I should only be a couple of hours.”

“No worries. Say bye to your father.” Matty said, then gentured to you.

“Bye Daddy.” You said hugging his legs.

He kissed your head. “Bye, my love. Be good for your uncle.”

“Always.” You said with a smirk. Making both men smile.

—-------

Ross truly thought he had nothing to worry about. You were a well rounded girl all things considered. And not a single teacher had a complaint in the past. Sure, he was completely biased, but you were a great student. Not every kid can be perfect, but he was convinced you were the closest any girl could get. But again - he’s biased.

Someone had called his name from a hallway that was filled to the brim with anxious parents. They led him into a classroom. He was met with a woman, y/n’s teacher he heard about, standing over a table organizing files and papers. She was younger than he expected, but seemed nicer than the other teachers you’ve had, gentler.

“Mr. Macdonald! Please, come have a seat.”

She introduced herself, told her about the class, what they learned, etc. It all seemed very normal yet, there was still something that didn’t make sense.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the grades she brings home are phenomenal.” He nodded, a small smile gracing his face. “It’s no surprise to me or any other teachers here that you have a very bright child. She’s the first to raise her hand, the first to help others, she has every quality of a great leader.”

He kept nodding, obviously agreeing but too shy to verbally admit it. Too proud to admit you were smarter than he ever was at this age.

Suddenly she took a pause. She read over her notes. When she looked back up her eyes wandered, looking anywhere else but Ross. “I have noticed a few grades have been dropping in the reading area?”

His head tilted. “Really?”

“Well, her last few grades have I’ve noticed have been getting lower and lower. Now her overall grade, although lower than the rest, I’m confident we can bring it back up to where it was.” She shifted, and Ross took notice. “When preparing for this meeting I discussed this pattern with our principal, and she thinks it’s possible that y/n has Dyslexia or another learning disability.”

Ross didn’t expect it.

“We have many resources right here in our school. If you want to get her officially tested we can help with that. That’s what we’re here for.”

He finally regained his thoughts, “To be honest, I haven’t even noticed. In her quiz grades? The ones she brings home?”

She let out a soft, sad sigh. “Yes. At first we thought it was some form of test anxiety? But, it’s mainly happening in the reading subject.”

Ross felt a tightness in his chest, the weight of guilt settling in as the teacher's words lingered in the air. He replayed the moments when y/n had shrugged off his questions about school, offering vague reassurances that everything was fine. He had wanted to believe her, and in his busyness, he’d let himself. But now, hearing this, it became clear—she hadn’t been fine at all. She had been drowning in silence, hiding the truth about her grades, her struggles, and maybe even her feelings. He hadn’t seen the signs. The late nights, the way she’d avoid reading out loud, her tendency to brush off doing her homework with a fleeting excuse, but then catching her doing it in silence in the confines of her room. It all added up now, and the realization hit him hard.

He felt a deep pang of regret, mixed with anger—anger at himself for not seeing it sooner, anger at the school for not catching it earlier. Dyslexia. It was a word he wasn’t familiar with in a personal way, but he knew enough to understand that you must have been feeling overwhelmed. He couldn’t help but imagine the frustration she must’ve experienced in class, surrounded by kids who seemed to grasp what was on the page while she struggled to make sense of it. It pained him to think of y/n, his only child. someone so bright and full of potential, being weighed down by something out of her control. 

His mind raced with questions. How long had she been struggling like this? Why hadn’t she come to him? And how was he going to help her now? He realized this wasn’t just about grades; this was about understanding her on a deeper level, about being the kind of father who didn’t miss the subtle cries for help. He nodded to the teacher, forcing himself to stay composed, but inside, he felt a swirl of emotions. This was just one layer of what you had been dealing with on her own. 

—-------

You ran out the door to your dad’s car, but not before giving Matty a big hug and telling him bye.

You greeted your dad with a kiss to the cheek, like you always did, as you got in the car. “Matty got me Mcdonalds.” You said, tone cheeky.

“Nice. What’d you buy me?” He said, only for a second forgetting the news he just learned.

You gave him a look. “Funny.” He smiled and you continued. “How’d it go?”

He shrugged, “Went alright.”

You mentally sighed, maybe they didn’t talk about it after all?

When you got home you told your dad you were going to shower. He nodded and let you be. It was getting late for you after all. He thought to himself as he watched you walk up the stairs. How am I going to ask her? He hadn’t a clue how he was going to address this.

—-------

He heard the water running from the bathroom that was connected to your room. Once he slowly and quietly opened the door, he made his way to your desk.

Compared to other kids your age, your room was pretty tidy for an 11 year old - another point that Ross made when bragging to others about how great you were. The bottom side drawer of your desk was filled with old test papers and worksheets that you brought home. You had always kept them in there, but not before proudly showing them off to your dad first.

It wasn’t the most organized, but the marking in red at the top of certain pages led him to the ones he needed. The first couple of papers weren’t awful, but definitely concerning knowing your usual grades. The more pages he picked up the lower the number at the top of the page. They were littered with correction marks and notes in red ink. His heart sank knowing the truth. The truth was you lied to him. He tried to stop himself from getting too angry but admittedly it was hard. You told him everything, and he was proud of that fact. He knew that as you got older there might be a day where you held some secrets to yourself, but never did he think it would happen now or at this age.

To entranced in the papers and the grades staring back at him, he didn’t notice the water stop or you walking out of the bathroom, towel in hand drying your hair, dressed in your pj shorts and one of your dad’s old t-shirts that, although large on your small frame, always seemed to look just right. “What are you doing?” You said, your voice small, curious. That curiosity only grew when you noticed the pile of papers on the desk and the ones you never wanted your father to see lying in his hands. “Why are you going through my stuff?” You said, stepping forward, only a hint of anger seeping through.

He looked at the papers in his hand, then back at you. “What’s this?” He asked.

You crossed your arms. “Answer my question first.”

He just continued. “Why haven’t you shown me any of your English class grades?”

“So that’s not answering my question actually.”

God, she can be like her mother sometimes. “y/n Macdonald, answer me.” He said, sternly. A sight you can’t recall the last time you saw.

You immediately got shy, shrinking in on yourself once you heard your fathers tone. “...I have-”

“No, you have not.” He said. He took a few steps forward. “I’ve never seen these papers or grades in my life. Why didn’t you show me? You show me everything like this.”

Your stomach flips as he holds up the stack of wrinkled papers, his face twisted with a mix of confusion and hurt. The sight of them makes your heart race faster. You never meant for him to find those, but here they are, crumpled in his hands.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, eyes darting down to the floor as your hands start picking at the edge of your shirt. “I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Ross’s voice sharpens, and you hear the disbelief clear in his words. He kneels down so he’s closer to your height, his face stern but not unkind. “These grades, y/n…why would you keep these from me?” His voice softens toward the end, almost like he’s afraid of the answer.

You stay silent, fighting the tears that sting behind your eyes. You’re not sure how to explain it, how to make him understand why the sight of those red marks on the papers made your chest feel heavy, why handing them over felt like admitting you were broken in some way. “I didn’t want you to be mad,” you whisper, feeling small under the weight of it all.

He lets out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not mad. I just—” He stops himself, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. “I’m not mad, Y/N. I’m just… sad that you felt like you couldn’t tell me. That you thought you had to hide this.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing you could disappear, wishing you could take it all back. “I didn’t want you to think I was dumb,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ross’s face softens at your words, and he gets down on one knee on the floor in front of you, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not dumb,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re so smart, Y/N. Way smarter than I was at your age. You just… you need a little extra help with this, that’s all. And that’s okay.”

He grabbed the sides of your arms, shifting the tone of the conversation as he spoke.

“Baby, do you know what Dyslexia is?”

You slowly lifted your head to meet his eyes. Softly shaking your head and letting out a meak “No.”

He swallowed and moved some of the pieces stuck to your face from crying away and behind your ear. “It’s a learning disorder that people have. All kinds of people, kids, adults. It could be anyone.”

He saw your eyes look up at him with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“No, no. No, It’s not bad. Not at all.” He took your hands in his, “It just means some people need more help than others. Sometimes they need to be taught in a different way.” You looked down again, “Honey, some of your teachers at school think you have Dyslexia. They think that’s why you’re getting these grades.” You were trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. “Do things sometimes look different than what the other kids are saying they see? Or are you slow at reading? Are things like that getting harder?” He tried to search your eyes for something. A feeling or an answer, but all he was met with were tears.

His words make something crack inside you, and before you can stop it, the tears are spilling down your cheeks. You’re not sure if it’s from the relief or the guilt or the sheer exhaustion of trying to hide everything for so long, but you can’t hold it in anymore. Ross reaches out, pulling you into a hug, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it, into the warmth and safety of his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you manage through your sobs, clutching his shirt.

“I know, kiddo,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you tighter.  “Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”

You continued to sob, “I didn’t want you to get mad at my grades. I didn’t understand what was happening. I just thought I was dumb and if I kept trying it would get better, but it didn’t.” You said, pulling away slightly.

“Y/n.” He said, semi-sternly. “You should never be afraid to tell me something. I could’ve helped you-”

“How?!” You said, anger seeping through, knowing that the truth was he wouldn’t know how to help you.

He sighed, “I-...i don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

“We would’ve figured it out, we would’ve gotten the help sooner.” He took your head in his hands, “I’m not angry about your grades, baby. I’m angry you lied.”

You shrugged through your sniffles. “Can you blame me?”

He gave you a weak somber smile, “No. I can’t.” You fell into his arms again, cries continuing to wet his shirt but settling down with the comfort of your Dad. “But you don’t ever have to be scared to tell me. No matter what. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” 

You nod against his chest, the weight of the secret you’ve been carrying finally starting to lift. 

You were still angry—not at your father, of course—but at the situation, at how unfair it all felt. You'd spent so long believing you were just slower than everyone else, that something about you was fundamentally wrong, and now, suddenly, you had a name for it. However it didn’t erase the years of frustration or the moments when you felt completely lost, watching your classmates breeze through what felt impossible to you. But at least it was something—a reason. You weren’t broken, and knowing that eased a small part of the heaviness in your chest. 

Still, the anger lingered, mixing with relief in a confusing knot of emotions. Maybe you could get the help you needed and not have to hide behind excuses or crumpled papers anymore. And maybe, for the first time in what felt like forever, you could let yourself believe that it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t alone in this, and though the road ahead looked uncertain, at least you weren’t walking it by yourself.

You glanced up at your dad, who was still holding you close, and a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. Whatever came next, he was ready to help you through it all, and you were ready to face it together.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Late Night Visit

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Summary: While insomnia takes over you, a visitor decides to drop by. Literally.

A/N: I was watching The Amazing Spider-Man and Andrew Garfield got me all kicking my feet and giggly hehehe. also, i didn't want this to be too long so there will be a part 2.

Sleep was evading you again and it's pissing you off. For the past few days, you've been struggling to sleep at a reasonable time. Melatonin wasn't even helping and you were ready to lose it.

So you're just sitting in the dark, staring at the wall when you heard a loud THUD at your window.

You shoot up, grabbing the bat you keep by your bed. You slowly creep over to the window, pulling back the curtain and looking out.

"Holy shit!" you place the bat down and open your window, "Spiderman? You okay?" you lean out and see the web-slinging superhero clutching his side. There's a gash and you see blood, "Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Spiderman is bleeding on my fire escape! Fuck!" you climb out and help him sit up.

"Ow ow ow ow!" he exclaims, causing you to freak out, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Let's-Let's just stay like this for a while," he says as he's trying to even out his breathing.

"So, uh, rough night?" you ask, feeling awkward as hell because what do you even say to a superhero that's bleeding out in front of you?

He chuckles, "Yeah, guess you can say that," he clears his throat, "Is it okay if I use your bathroom and clean up?"

"Oh, uh, yeah."

You help him to his feet, hopping inside your room first to gently guide him in. He stumbles forward with a wince, and you catch him before he falls. He mumbles out a 'thanks' and then follows you to your bathroom.

He leans against the sink counter as you fish out the first aid kit under your sink, "Thanks. Um, do you happen to have a thread and needle?"

You nod, "Yeah, but I'm not stitching you up. If I even attempt to, I'll throw up. Like, no joke, I don't think I can-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. I wasn't gonna ask you to. You've done enough for me already." You nod again, moving out of the bathroom to find your sewing kit. When you find it, you hand it to Spiderman, who gives you a nod of thanks, "Seriously, this means a lot. You didn't have to do this."

You shrug, "You do your best to keep all of us safe. This is me returning the favor."

"Thank you. Is it okay if I," he gestures to the door and you back up.

"Yeah, of course. Take your time."

You turn around when the door shuts and you go to your kitchen. You're up and awake, might as well make him some food or something.

________________

Twenty minutes later, you're plating up some mac and cheese when you heard a crash in the bathroom. You immediately rush over and open the door to reveal a maskless Spiderman.

Both of you are frozen, staring at each other in shock for what feels like ten minutes until you're turning around, hands over your eyes, "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I HEARD A CRASH AND I WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY! I'M SORRY!"

Spiderman is rushing over to you, "Woah, woah, woah! Hey, relax! It's fine. It's fine, you can look." You know he's standing in front of you, hands on your shoulders. You're still covering your eyes and he chuckles, "Seriously, it's okay."

Your hands slowly lower and you properly take in the man before you. His face is a little beaten up. His eyes are brown and he has dark brown hair. He's...very attractive.

He softly smiles, "Hi."

"Hi, uh, Spiderman."

"Well now that you've seen my face..my name's Peter."

"How are you so trusting with your identity?" you can't help but ask, "I can easily tell the world who Spiderman is."

"You don't look like someone who' do that."

You cross your arms over your chest, "Looks can be deceiving."

"Are you gonna tell the world who I am?"

"...no."

He grins at you, "Then I'm okay." He lifts up his fist and you fist bump it with a smile. He then goes back to the bathroom, cleaning everything up.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, by the way," he says shyly, as he throws the bloody gauzes into the trash.

"I was awake anyway," you reply with a shrug. When he gives you a questioning look, you add, "I've been suffering from insomnia lately."

"Ah," he nods in understanding, "I get that way sometimes too."

"So, um, I made you some food...if you're hungry."

"You didn't have-"

"It's fine. Really. Gave me something to do. But don't expect much. It's just mac and cheese."

He smiles brightly, "I love mac and cheese."

"Cool."

Peter follows you to the kitchen were you have a bowl of mac and cheese waiting for him alongside a glass of water and some painkillers.

"You're the amazing for this, seriously," he downs a few painkillers and immediately digs into his food.

You snort, "Did you not eat before you went out to fight crime?"

"I did, but it takes a lot out of you, okay?" he says as he shovels another spoonful of mac and cheese into his mouth.

Twenty minutes of eating and chatting go by and Peter has enough energy to get back home.

With his mask back on, he's out on your fire escape again, "I just realized, I never got your name."

"Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, thanks a bunch for helping you. I'll see you around."

"You're welcome. Stay safe out there."

He gives you a salute and proceeds to jump off the fire escape. A web shoots onto a lamp post and he's swinging away, "GOOD NIGHT!"

You're waving even though he probably couldn't see you.

You close your window, locking it shut. You're body suddenly feels heavy. You plop yourself onto your bed and pull the blankets over you. Sleep finally comes to you.

[cherrrubss]

'Wake up princess...'

Jenna Ortega x Fem!reader

Rays of sunshine peeked through your curtains,while birds sang a happy melody.You slowly opened your eyes ,taking in your surroundings,you sat up and immediately the feelings from yesterday hit you like a train.

You had the worst day anyone can have,you broke down as soon as you entered the house,you were crying until you couldn't breathe,a pounding headache as you tried your best to stop but you couldn't,not until she came and held you,whispering sweet nothings as she lulled you into sleep kissing your head then carrying you to bed.You were pulled out of your thoughts when you smelt something coming from downstairs,you slowly got out of bed,feet dragging as you made your way to the kitchen...where you saw her.

The love of your life,the light of your life,cooking your favourite breakfast.You were frozen in ,staring lovingly at her,usually you'd be the one making her breakfast, but the thought of her waking up early to make you breakfast made your heart beat faster,giving you butterflies.You don't think you can love her more than you do at this moment,oh, how you love her.If you could show her every day how much you appreciate her,you would've done it already,but for now,your both content with saying how much you loved th eother,

You were dragged out of your thoughts again as you heard her giggle while waving her hand infront of your face trying to regain your attention,if you could your whole world would revolve around her really,"Helloo,earth to y/n",she giggled again as you blinked twice offering a soft smile which she returned without hesitation,you wrapped your arms around her soaking in her warmth,Oh how you wished for this to last forever,"sleep good?", she asked pulling away slightly to see your face.She smiled lovingly once she sw your sleepy eyes open slightly,you nodded before kissing her jawline,trailing them all the way to her ear before whispering,"did you?" , her smile grew bigger,as she nodded, pulling you towards the counter where you two sat, eating breakfast, while jenna spoke about her dream with you listening attentively.

Little moments like this made your heart bleed,you just love her so much, its pathetic.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Today was even worse,your co-workers were noisier than lastweek,and you had to work over-time cause you said you'd cover someone's shift for them,huge mistake,after you left work rain just thought it was the best time to say hi,and the cherry on top you got harassed by a creep,that stole your umbrella when you pushed him away, 'this is why i HATE people',you thought as you entered home on the verge of tears a small pout on your lips.

As you were trying to collect your thoughts,arms wrapped around your waist as soft lips kissed the top of your head,you relaxed almost immediately,letting out a shaky sigh.You turned around and hugged jenna back melting into her embrace, "Bad day?", she asked softly,you nod once, "wanna talk about it?",you shook your head no, she let out a soft 'okay' before leading you both into your shared bedroom.As jenna sat you down on your bed,you watched as she got out comfortable cloths and helped you get changed.

You both laid in bed while she talked about her day,while you listened, the way you liked it,you brushed her hair with your fingers while she leaned into your touch,talking about what happened on set.

"I want you to do something for me", she said softly,you nod once lightly scratching her head,she sighed,"promise me,that you won't give up,that you won't you know.. when they push you to your breaking point", oh...you avoided her gaze hands slowing slightly from playing with her hair," i can't stand to hear that my baby gave up and went out that way..so please if your struggling talk to me",she pleaded cupping your face so you met her eyes, they were filled with tears,your heart broke. You sighed and nodded once,you weren't in the mood to talk not trusting your voice to not crack.

She smiled softly,giving a warm feeling, " Can you do one last thing for me", her voice cracked slightly as she stroked your cheek,You stroked her hair, before nodding,"anything",you whispered.

"close your eyes"

You closed your eyes.

"breathe in,and out for me"

You did what you were told.

"Now...i need you to wake up princess..",she let out a shaky breath

Your brows furrowed ,eyes still closed,you were confused.You opened your eyes to find yourself alone,in your slightly less desired room,the sun now rising....oh,right

[officialchristiancagebbgirlblog]

2: “try and get some sleep baby”

34: “shh, it’s okay. I’m here now”

Hopefully this is okay, I made it into a sort of nightmare in which the reader wakes up to a caring Christian Cage. Any feedback is appreciated! Hope you enjoy! 🩵

Tag: @brideofinfamy

Warnings: none

Theme: angst and fluff at the end

Word count: 1407

Link to masterlist

Happy reading 🖤

“I know it’s not easy, but try and get some sleep baby.”

For the last few days, you had been really struggling to get to sleep. You weren’t sure where the problem was starting but all you knew is you were sick of sleeping so late all the time. Christian laid behind you, spooning your body while one of his cats happily nestled behind his knees. He mumbled sweet nothings into your hair, trying to help you get to sleep. Even though he was half asleep he still tried his best to get you as relaxed as possible before he drifted off into his own dreams.

“I’ll try, babe…” you sighed, feeling him plant a soft kiss on the back of your head and pulling the sheets higher up on your bodies. You went to say goodnight, but by the time you turned your head towards him, he was out like a light.

The clock by your bedside table read 2:13am. It wasn’t the time you wanted to see at all, having tried for hours to get to sleep. Strangely enough, you were tired enough to get to sleep but your brain was just refusing to shut off for the night. It’s not like you had even done anything crazy that night anyways! At best, you and your boyfriend, Christian, had just had a quiet night cooking dinner, watching a movie. Being in his later years, he preferred to stay in and hang out with his girl. There was nothing he needed to prove to anyone by bringing you out, showing you off to his friends to prove that ‘he’s still got it!’ He didn’t need to prove to anyone that he was still worthy of being loved by younger women. So he chose to spend his nights relaxing with you instead. He knew you didn’t enjoy going out and partying until the early hours of the sunrise, so it never took much convincing to get you to stay home with him.

You envied Christian for being able to sleep so quickly. As soon as you guys had got yourselves tucked in he fell asleep. Snoring away behind you, his sounds were oddly relaxing. They were loud, occasionally a little bit squeaky but it was just enough to help lull you into a restless sleep.

Once your eyes finally closed and you melted into the sheets, you found yourself standing alone in a hallway. Wide awake.

‘Strange…’ you thought aloud, ‘where is everybody?’

Wandering down the hall you could hear faint, illegible voices that went up and down in both tone and volume. Almost like a weird song? You couldn’t quite pinpoint who the voices belonged to but it definitely sounded familiar. Deciding to stop, you pressed your ears against a closed wooden door on your right to see if you could make out what they were saying. But weirdly, as you got closer you heard more voices that made it so hard to hear as you got closer to the wood. They were loud, distorted, and almost angry. But after some head movements, you found the sweet spot on the door that allowed you to make out at least some words. Sadly, though, it might’ve just been better to ignore them.

“She’s just so…and I don’t…why would he go…someone as young as…she’s just in it…for the money…he could do…so much better…”

‘Oh my god,’ you gasped, ‘is…is that what she thinks of me?!’

It took you a moment to figure out who the voice might belong to, and you felt your heart drop when you realised it was one of Christians friends. It could’ve been Shayna, or possibly Beth but you weren’t fully certain on which of the girls. You swallowed thickly, and with a tightness on your chest you continued down the hall. On your left, this time, was a new wooden door. Except this one was painted Green with a little peephole looking into the room. You could see the back of someone sitting, typing furiously on their phone and dictating loudly what they were writing. Whoever they were, they were practically shouting their words of hatred:

“What does he even see in her…why on Earth…date a younger…she deserves to be-“

Quickly and clumsily stepping back, you tried to spare yourself from hearing the end of that sentence. You felt the cool wall slam against your back as you stumbled down to the floor.

‘Oh my god, what’s going on?!’ You thought to yourself, head buried in your hands, body trembling. The tightness on your chest started to feel more like a weight. Like something was sitting on it, hot and kind of fuzzy? It almost felt like it was merging with the inside of your throat. After what felt like forever, you found the courage to lift your head only to be met with an open doorway. Looking in, sat on a lone chair in the middle of an otherwise empty room sat Christian. Staring at you. With no love in his eyes.

He didn’t say anything, just watched as you shakily lifted yourself off the floor to walk towards him. With each step closer, his expression became more sour and angry.

‘Baby, it’s…it’s me. What’s wrong?” You questioned, lips quivering. Still, he stayed silent and unmoving.

‘Please just say something! Anything!’

Slowly he stood from the chair, eyes trained on you with a scowl plastered on his face. He took a step forward towards you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

‘You disgust me…’ he spat out, beginning to shake you violently. With each shake, he shouted disgusting comments at you, spit flying all over your face as he closed the space between the two of you. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even breathe. The man that you were in love with stood before you shouting abuse at you. Tears streamed down as you stared at his greying face, his cheeks burning a bright red of hatred. Everything felt like it was shaking around you, and you had the odd sensation of being lifted from the ground. But, his voice kept you distracted from everything around you. You barely even noticed his expression soften, his voice suddenly quiet and soothing.

“Hey, wake up!”

Sitting up in a panic, you almost shrieked. The heavy feeling in your chest quickly disappeared as his cat (who was previously cuddled up on your chest) tumbled down into your lap with a gentle meow in protest. She hopped away from the bed, unhappy with the level of respect. Apparently she didn’t much appreciate rolling down somebody's body. Looking around the room that was just barely lit with the lamp beside your boyfriend you realised where you were. Back in the safety of his bedroom. It was just a horrible nightmare. It still didn’t stop your sobs and violent shakes as you fell sideways into his awaiting arms.

“Oh baby, shh. Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now…” he mumbled, face buried in your hair, hands caressing your arms. You tried to speak but you just couldn’t get the words out between sobs.

“No it’s okay, sweet girl, you don’t have to say anything. I know you had a nightmare. You don’t have to tell me what happened.”

His reassuring words helped you calm down quicker, his soft hands acting as a fantastic distraction from the sadness. Finally you were able to calm down again. The tears had stopped flowing, the shakes were less violent. But that didn’t stop him from continuing to hold you, rocking you side to side. You looked over to him to see him flash you a warm smile.

“Are you feeling better now?” He held an open bottle of water to your lips, trying to get you to have a few sips which you gratefully accepted. Still feeling too upset to properly talk, you gave him a nod before laying back down under the covers. He placed the water down and turned off the lamp, plunging the room back into darkness. There was a brief moment of anxiety which quickly washed away as he nuzzled in next to you.

“Th…thank you.” You managed to mutter out, just loud enough for him to hear. Another kiss was given to you but this time on your cheek.

“I’m here for you sweet girl, whatever happens. Try and get back to sleep if you can, okay? I promise I won’t let go of you tonight.”

[bed-chemist]

❝one thing about me, i aint taking no shit❞

Chapter Summary: joel and the sweetest baker have their first fight. the sweetest baker rethinks if she wants to be with joel.

Chapter Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

⋆ word count: 4.6k⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

Time seemingly taunts me on Tuesday afternoon with a slow bakery and 3 employees. The fretting about the pie recipe paid off and the bakery made it into the Chicago Tribune for best fall treats. We sold out of pickup orders the next day but no one wants to get their pies this early in the week. 

My mind drifts watching Ellie’s slow and methodical paint strokes. I wonder what her biological parents did to have that much talent weaved through her DNA. Dina sits on the floor next to her, reading her an astrology book. The two girls appear sickly in love and I smile, standing from the chair. 

The iPad next to me dings and I'm reminded that it’s 11:15 a.m., time to start baking birthday treats for Mayor Thomas’ annual fall bash. I mentally run through the list in my head. They asked for chocolate cupcakes with pumpkins on them. It’s simple, Imogen.

I feel like I’m losing it as I walk back towards the kitchen. When I enter the room, two of my employees are sitting, aimlessly tapping away on their phones. Furying climbs up my shoulders when I realize I’m paying them to play video games on their phones back here. “Look alive, ladies,” I snip, walking over to the cupcake storage.

They both both their phones away, apologizing profusely. “It’s fine. You can make up for it by helping me ice two hundred cupcakes,” I say nonchalantly and I hear nothing but groans in return.

I shuffle around the kitchen grabbing all the necessary tools before popping my headphones in. If I have to ice two hundred cupcakes, I’m damn sure going to be doing it while listening to “1989 (Taylor’s Version).”

I click my favorite vault track and smile when the music fills my head. My body uses muscle memory as I buzz around, filling the piping bags with icing. Since the cupcakes are already done and cooled, it takes little to no effort for me to decorate them. Nearly half of the album plays and my pan is done in half of the girls' time. But I created the recipe so of course it is. 

Carefully, I place the cupcakes aside until they’re ready for pickup. My heels click on the pink tile beneath me as I walk back to the front to check on the girls. When I round the corner, I hear Chloe talking on the phone. Her shoulders are hunched over; her body language for ‘I’m dealing with a shitty customer.” 

I creep behind her as best as possible but she hears the sound of my shoes against the floor, slowly turning around. She tries her hardest to manage the situation herself but after seeing her struggle, I extend my hand for the phone. She puts it in my palm, giving me a silent thank you before returning to her task.

“I’m sorry, this is Imogen Scott. I’m the owner. Can you explain the situation again?” I speak into the receiver. 

“Hi Imogen, it’s Rebecca. Mayor Thomas’ assistant,” she speaks frantically.

I nod, pacing slightly around the bakery. “Oh hi, I just finished the cupcakes. You’re still scheduled for the 2 p.m. pickup, right?” I confirm with her.

She kisses her teeth and lets out a small sigh. “About that,” she starts.

I shake my head, panic starting to cause a tightening in my chest. “No. No, no, no. Don’t do this to me, Rebecca,” I plead.

“I’m sorry. The Thomas’ just tested positive for COVID,” she elaborates and I sigh.

I can’t be mad because someone is sick but what are we supposed to do with two hundred cupcakes? “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I express sympathy for the family.

“Mayor Thomas sends his sincere apologies and promises to pay for the full order,” Rebecca apologizes for her boss.

Oh, he doesn’t have a choice. I understand emergencies but I’m definitely charging every last penny to the government. “That’s great but I still have… you know what, it’s not your problem. Have a good afternoon,” I say clicking the end button on the phone.

When I turn around, Chloe is still standing nearby, awaiting the tea. “So I have some good news and some bad news,” I tell her.

“Good news first,” she requests.

I press my eyes closed, trying to push away the oncoming migraine from this fiasco. “Situation is handled and they’re still paying for the full order,” I tell her, and she high-fives me for charging them my worth.

Chloe smiles and nods. “Awesome! Now the bad,” she waves for me to continue with her hand.

“We have to figure out how to distribute two hundred perishable cupcakes before closing,” I quickly spit out.

Dina seemingly overhears my phone call and stands while Chloe greets the customers who’ve just entered the shop. When Dina is in front of me, she shrugs. “That’s easy, every customer gets a free cupcake with purchase,” she says nonchalantly. 

“That’s great for 50 of them. It’s so slow and I don’t want to count on that,”  I explain, gesturing towards the bakery. 

Chloe hums in response before taking care of the customers who’ve just approached the counter. “What can I get y’all today?” she asks gleefully.

“Two dozen cookies. Half sugar, half chocolate chip,” the woman speaks for the group.

“Wow, sounds like you’re going to a big party,” I say over Chloe’s shoulder, handing her some boxes.

A younger and quite frankly attractive man steps up in front of me. “Office meeting,” he flirts with a wink.

On any other day, I might flirt back with him out of boredom. But the more I look at his smirk, the more I find it disgusting. Joel’s smirk is suggestive like he already knows what I want. I’m starving to wake up next to Joel and I’d rather die than wake up to the man in front of me.

My vision blurs as I allow Chloe to get them checked out and out of the store with their box of free cupcakes. After she wipes the glass counter top she pauses, turning around to face me. “What about Dina’s book club at the school?”

I think back to my drunk shenanigans and the fact that I almost laid hands on a parent while in that building. “I’m not going back into that place until Christmas time,” I complain before turning my head towards Dina. 

“Either you take them or have James bring them to you when he clocks in,” I urge her to pass on the directions and Dina mutters agreeing responses.

I step in front of the counter, surveying what supplies we have left. We’re almost sold out, so the cupcakes will come to good use. “I’m going to drop some off at the Austin. Maybe their employees can take them home,” I tell her, rotating on my heels to face Ellie and Dina. “Girls, no–”

“Drinking, drugs, sex. Got it,” Ellie groans the mantra I’ve drilled into her head from her spot on the floor.

Chloe’s face lights up with a smile after processing the information. “That’s a good idea,” she praises.

“Thanks! Text me if you need anything. I shouldn’t be long,” I tell her, grabbing a large pink box to put the sweet treats in.

My body is filled with a giddy feeling thinking about the possibility of seeing him for the first time since Friday. And honestly, I’ve never been more excited to see someone.

The elevator dings to let me know that I’m on the floor of the Austin. I step off confidently carrying the boxes of treats up to the host stand. “Welcome to the Austin. I’m assuming you have a reservation,” he welcomes me into the restaurant.

The deja vu from my birthday hits me like a truck and I shake my head. “Oh, no. I’m here to see Chef Miller,” I reply.

The host looks at the boxes in my hands and then back up at me. “Do you have an appointment?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, but,” I start before I’m cut off.

“I’m sorry. I can’t let you back there. If you want to schedule an appointment with him, maybe he’d be willing to try your,” he pauses to look skeptically through the clear cover on top of the pink box. “Cupcakes,” he says disappointingly. 

Yeah, well no fucking cupcakes for you asshole. “He’s already tried my cupcakes, his daughter–” I cut myself off to take a deep breath and compose myself. “Look, Joel’s my boyfriend,” I try the last-ditch effort. Hopefully, Joel will hear baker and girlfriend then have a fucking clue.

The host’s eyes widen and he clears his throat. “Oh, let me go check with him then,” he dismisses himself.

Another host quickly replaces him, keeping the front of house running smoothly. I step out of the way, allowing customers to file in from the cool autumn afternoon. I pace around the lobby, watching my heels click on the marble floor. The toes of my shoes kiss the window and as I peer down below, I can see the masses of people crossing the clogged city streets. 

That annoying throat-clearing noise sounds out again from behind me. I turn around to show this prick that he has my full attention. I’ve been nothing but fucking nice to you, asshole. “I’m sorry. Chef Miller is predisposed and every employee I passed said he doesn't have a girlfriend,” he tilts his head and patronizes me.

“Fuck this, I’ll go talk to him myself,” I grunt, stepping past him and quickly walking towards where I suspect the kitchen is.

“Ma’am,” I hear the host call over my shoulder as I make my way through the restaurant. My eyes quickly scan the room, finding the pattern of employees flowing in and out of the kitchen. I beeline confidently towards their path. “Ma’am you can’t go back there,” I hear the host repeat and he confirms I’m correct.

I shrug, fed up with the bullshit. Joel might be mad but I can explain later. “I can and I will,” I call over my shoulder. 

As I’m walking down the hall, I hear crashing in the kitchen. The employee doesn’t let up with harassing me to the door. I pause for a second contemplating if this is the right thing to do.

Fuck it. You’re already here, Ginny.

I push through the double doors and the first thing I see is a white wall. But the crashing of dishes and the screaming doesn’t pause. “Y’all need to take your head out of your fuckin’ asses and start realizing what the hell is goin’ on here,” he barks, as I round the corner.

The chefs and employees are wide-eyed, some of them in tears. Nobody speaks, just accepting the abuse from the older irate man. “Most chefs I’d know would be fuckin’ embarrassed,” he reaches in front of a chef with a plate sitting on the table in front of her. He snatches it, crashing it down on the metal surface. It hits the tabletop and the porcelain and food scatter on the grey tile beneath it.

The noise causes me to jump ten feet in the air, nearly dropping the box of cupcakes. “Do you think we’re gonna get a fuckin star with this shit,” he growls.

 Joel doesn’t stop there, picking up the next closest plate of food he’s determined uneatable and chucking it across the room. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you,” I watch as Joel points in each of their faces, spitting the degrading words. 

The feeling of sympathy for the chefs weighs heavy on my heart. None of them can be older than 25. They’re babies and he just crushed their dreams of becoming chefs in 20 seconds flat.

Joel’s back rises and falls rapidly, as though he’s on the tip of a spiral. “Get your shit together!” he swears, removing the towel from his waist and slamming it down on the counter.

My feet quickly and quietly start moving backward in hopes of avoiding Joel. Tears well into my eyes and I trip on my own feet. I don’t know Joel. Not this one. This can’t be the same Joel who offered to whip me up something special on my birthday. Now I realize that whoever made my food on that day probably got fired.

Up until this point he’s been nothing but sweet to me. He’s shown me nothing but his good side. The first time he got angry with me, I checked him. But that’s not an option for his employees. 

When Joel rounds the corner, his eyes meet mine and he stops in his tracks. His breathing hitches before he inhales a sharp breath. “Ginny,“ he utters lowly almost as if he’s afraid. It’s a complete 180 from his previous behavior. 

I set the stack of pink boxes on the shelf next to me. “Here’s the cupcakes I brought for you, because I care about you, Joel. I care for you and Ellie and I wanted to see you. Come to find out you’re treating your employees like the shit on your shoe. That’s fucked up Joel,” I fume.

Joel purses his lips before stepping forward, attempting to box me in like her always. “You weren’t–”

“No,” I hiss, sidestepping out of the way. The simple yet quick action causes the tears to spill over my brim. “Ellie’s at the fucking bakery right now. Does she know? Is that why she didn’t want to work for you? I treat my employees with kindness and you rule with fear. The fuck are you doing, Joel?”  I croak out, attempting to hold on to the last sliver of composure I have left.

You just don’t treat people like that. I don’t give a fuck about a star or a stripe. “I don’t know,” he sighs, rubbing his eyebrows with frustration.

I shift, leaning on my opposite leg with my hand on my hip. “You don’t know what?” I articulate sharply.

Joel throws his hands in the air. “Fuck, sugar. I don’t know anything. I was just trying to teach them how I was taught,” he argues.

My eyes flicker back and forth between Joel’s brown ones. They’re full of regret and my shoulders soften. “You don’t have to be the abusive boss your head chef was to you, Joel,” I explain.

Joel’s eyes dart towards the ground like an ashamed puppy. “Here, take these.” I place my hand gently on the top of the box. “Maybe share them with your staff. It’s a step in the right direction at least,” I advise, walking out of the kitchen.

I don’t turn around when I hear Joel following me and calling my name. I don’t speak to him when he picks up Ellie that night. And I’m unsure if I want to anymore.

Thanksgiving Day

Tommy clears his throat before he shovels a spoonful of pie into his mouth. “Mmmm,” he moans. “This is good, Ginny,” he compliments happily.

The rest of the table chatters in agreement. After being stuffed full of Joel’s meal, they needed a warm dessert before bed. The fluffy layers of the crust flake apart perfectly in my mouth; taste buds bursting with cinnamon and apple. Fuck, this is going to knock me smooth out after Joel’s meal. 

I can feel him staring at me. He wants me to look at him, but I can’t. If I look at him, we have to have a conversation. I don’t want to do that in front of our friends and family. This entire Thanksgiving has been awkward as fuck between us. But god, I miss his lips, his smirk, his tan fingers interlocked with mine. 

Maddie and Leo made themselves useful and created a burier in between me and Joel. But Ellie and Tommy are seemingly oblivious to our little spat, which I’m grateful for. 

“No wonder this made it into the Chicago Tribune. This is divine, Ginny,” Mrs. Crown compliments, pointing towards the dessert with her fork.

I smile, bashfully looking down at my palms locked in my hands. “Thank you, Mrs. Crown,” I murmur.

Someone drops their utensil and it clatters against their dish. “You made it into the Tribune?” I hear Joel ask in shock.

I glance up at him for the first time tonight, studying his bug-eyed disposition. “Uh, yeah. Forgot to tell you,” I come up with a quick excuse.

Joel gave my face a once over before sitting back in his seat. “Hmph,” he grunts and I can tell he’s not buying the diversion.

Ellie had celebrated with me all week, having already been at the bakery. But when I found out, I told her I wanted to tell Joel on my own time. We just never got to that after the Monday fiasco. 

Ellie slyly leans over and whispers to the disgruntled man, “Joel, say congrats.”

Joel’s head slowly rises until he’s peering at me. He’s pissed and I can practically see the steam exiting through his pores; his blood is boiling. “Congrats,” he mutters.

I take the cloth napkin out of my lap, leaving it on the table before standing. “I’ll be right back,” I mumble, swiftly walking out of the dining room. Before I fucking cry again in front of Joel.

I feel like the small hall is swallowing me whole. My head is pounding, and the tears begin flowing down my cheeks. I never want someone I care about to be mad at me.

Bursting through the kitchen door, I stare at the staff wide-eyed. They whisper to each other before exiting the large space, leaving me alone to calm down.

Once they’re gone, I crouch on the ground with my back against the cold wall. And only then do I allow myself to let go, crying until I feel like I’m suffocating on my own tears. My chest tightens, and I hear ringing in my ears, unsure of what just happened. 

I’m brought out of my thoughts when I hear the kitchen door creek open. 

“Ginny?” I hear Ellie’s voice ring through the room. 

I hear her footsteps walking over to me and I quickly brush the tear stains away, praying she doesn’t notice my tomato face. I reach my hand out to grab the counter next to me and use it to support me as I stand, grabbing a bowl to use as a cover. 

I plaster on a smile, putting the bowl in front of me.  “What’s up, El?” I ask. 

Her head tilts and she walks closer to me. “Is something going on between you and Joel? You’re both being weird as fuck with each other,” she speculates. Fuck. Ellie’s no idiot and I know that.

My nostrils flare and my vision blurs. I’ve always been great under pressure, but talking to Ellie feels heavier than a rude customer. “Well, you’re not wrong…” I trail off, abandoning the bowl. “Uh, we just had a heated conversation,” I confess.

Ellie’s brows knit and the curiosity seeps through her pores. She’s not gonna let it go. “About what?” she asks.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll all blow over tomorrow,” I reassure her, shifting awkwardly to lean on my other leg.

Ellie’s lips part and I know she’s about to argue when Joel appears through the doorway. “Ellie, time to get going,” he waves her towards him.

The air in the room is thick and I feel like I’m drowning in the swimming pool that is the tension between Joel and me. Ellie apparently senses the same feeling I do, and she scrunches her nose. “Okay…” Ellie elongates the word, tip-toeing out of the kitchen.

I avoid Joel’s gaze to no avail when I see his tattered brown boots before me. He inhales a sharp breath, causing my hair to scatter around my forehead. “Sugar,” he rasps, and his fingers touch mine.

My eyes latch with his and I have to remind myself not to melt in the amber waves. “Joel,” I mutter.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, his shaking fingers toying with mine.

I gnaw on my lip, leaning back a little so there’s space between us. “I know, Joel,” I reiterate.

He curses under his breath, abandoning his attempt to slyly hold my hand. “What can I do to make it up to you?” he asks.

And here we are again, back at the beginning. What doesn’t he get? The people working for you are human. “Treat your employees with respect,” I instruct.

“I’m trying that. We’ve had a good day, let me show you,” Joel stresses.

I shake my head, slowly blinking from exhaustion. “You can’t do it in one day,” I remind him.

Joel takes a step forward to box me in. “I know,” he sighs.

I reach my hand up and caress the skin on his face with the back of my hand. He leans into my touch, humming softly. “You have to change the culture of your business,” I gently remind him.

Joel nods, and his hand slides up my waist.  “I will. It’s just, I need you, sugar,” he emphasizes with so much need, I’m eager to forgive him. “This week has been shit without you. Every time Ellie mentions you, I feel like hell,” he continues.

We’re adults; There’s no reason for us to go back and forth. “Okay,” I conceded.

Joel’s face twists and he jerks his head back slightly. “Okay?” he asks, his voice thick with confusion.

I nod, feeling my jaw relax from previously being clenched. “I don’t wanna fight with you. I missed you a lot,” I admit.

Joel’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I missed you too,” he returns the sentiment. “Those pretty eyes, your perfume,” he says, putting his hand under my chin. “Missed these,” he finishes, dragging his thumb over my bottom lip.

“How about you kiss me since you’ve missed me so much?” I offer, with a raised brow.

His face lights up with excitement. “I can?” he asks for consent.

I nod, returning the small smile. “Please,” I stand on my tiptoes, giving him better access.

Joel leans down, connecting his lips with mine. My eyes flutter closed and I give into him, allowing him to take full control of the kiss. He hungrily dips his tongue into my mouth, seemingly desperate for more. I oblige him, craving the same thing. Maybe more than I can get right now.

His tongue swirls with mine and I moan quietly. Joel lightly squeezes my neck, tilting my head back. The feeling of the counter-pressing into my back gives the sharp pain to the pleasure I so often crave. My hands find their way into Joel’s head, tugging on his root. He groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss. 

Suddenly, I hear a throat being cleared behind me. Joel takes a step back, parting our physical connection like the Red Sea. When I turn around, I’m embarrassed to find Tommy, Maddie, and Leo standing near the entryway. “Finally, you two made up,” Tommy throws his arms up dramatically. 

Maddie dramatically rolls her eyes, walking over towards me. “I honestly couldn’t take it anymore,” she complains. 

Leo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’d been a dick to Joel all evening and the guilt is written all over his face. “Sorry for harassing you tonight, man,” he apologizes to Joel.

Joel shrugs and I’m grateful that he understands Leo’s protectiveness over me. “I get it, you care about her. Too much to lose,” he empathizes.

Ellie comes around the corner with her burgundy coat zipped up. The fabric makes a swishing sound as she walks, reminding me of my own childhood. “I’m ready,” she announces, a hat secured on top of her head.

We all file out of the kitchen, bidding the Miller’s a goodbye before I realize, I should probably go home too. Grabbing my coat out of the closet, I struggle to get it on successfully. Joel comes up behind me, gabbing the shoulders of the jacket to assist me. “You want a ride home?” he asks lowly.

Maddie picked me up so I assumed I’d leave with the first person out. Happy that it’s The Millers, I nod. “Yeah, I’ll ride with you guys,” I graciously accept his offer.

The four of us file out of the house on the chilly evening. The physical manifestation of my breath floats in front of me with each rise of my chest. Maddie and Leo wave goodbye from the front door before shutting it once we’re on the curb. 

Joel unlocks the black truck, opening the back for Ellie to climb in. “Tommy, in the back,” he barks at his brother.

I put my hand on Joel’s bicep, attempting not to fantasize about him picking me up and fucking me against a wall. “No, Joel. Tommy’s legs are longer than mine in the truck,” I let Tommy take the front seat.

“You sure, sugar?” Joel confirms.

I smile, stepping up on the side rail. “Positive, sweetness,” I respond, sliding in next to Ellie.

Joel raises his brows, before nodding. “Mmm, sweetness. I like that,” he says.

“I bet you do,” I murmur back before he shuts the door.

After dropping Tommy off at his place, Joel invited me over to his for a glass of wine. I’d never seen his place, so I gleefully took him up on the offer.

My eyes scan the room and I notice the dust covering the top of the blinds, as if they’ve never been moved. There’s barely anything on the walls that accompanies the neutral paint, aside from a few art pieces I assume are Ellie’s.

The kitchen is humongous with an identical double oven like mine. There are pictures on the speckled kitchen counter and when I look closer I see Ellie, Tommy, and a little girl I’ve never seen before. My head tilts as I take in her brown curls and freckled face. She looks like she could be related to me. “Woah,” I breathe out, sliding into the seat next to me.

It’s uncanny, and it’s making me queasy. “Fuck, right?  Joel doesn’t see it,” Ellie startles me a bit, adding her two cents.

“Ellie,” Joel scolds his daughter.

I turn toward Ellie, thinking of the best way to explain this to a kid. “I don’t think he wants to compare his daughter to anyone, El,” I start. But, I wonder if that’s why he was so drawn to me in the first place.

Ellie plops down onto the worn leather couch in the living room. “No shit. I don’t like it when people compare things to my mom’s,” she says over her shoulder before clicking the TV on.

“Ellie,” Joel grunts before opening the fridge.

Fed up with his repetitiveness, I groan at the two. “Joel, she’s expressing herself in the way she can in an appropriate space. Let her swear now so she can learn codeswitching,” I rant, pausing to take a deep breath. 

My attention turns toward Ellie who is now fully invested in me ripping her father a new asshole. “Now school? No fucking way, kid. I don’t need to come up there and cuss someone out again,” I warn her.

Ellie puts up her hands in defense. “Sounds like a sweet fucking deal to me,” she smiles maniacally. 

Joel shakes his head, popping the reusable cork out of a wine bottle. “Hell, you two are going to be the death of me,” he predicts before pouring a glass for me.

Ironically, Joel and Ellie are the only daily sparks of life I have left.

next part

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Sharmat's Lovers II

Author's Note: HEY GUYS IT'S DONE. The Nerevarinevoryn cnc filth. Nerevar is intersex and bratty, it gets him lots of attention. NSFT!

------------------------------------

To have "working hours" was a new thing for Voryn. The idea of disconnecting at all was a strange one...but those beneath him had been asking for more responsibilities, and really, delegating did leave him more time for what he had been able to indulge in for the first time in centuries.

His loves had promised him an evening filled with pleasure, and he'd spent the last hour or so trying to make a guess at what they would come up with. They were creative, those minxes, dreaming up the most alluring ideas that never failed to end an evening in well-satisfied exhaustion.

And when the door to his room was opened, he saw that once again, they had not failed him.

Nerevar was sitting on his knees on the bed, with his hands bound behind his back and a makeshift gag in his mouth that was tied off behind his head.

And he was wearing nothing more than a loincloth, leaving the rest of him - hard, well muscled gold - on display.

Oh, the two of you never disappoint...

Sadara, dressed in one of her more expensive robes, was seated near the bed. "My dear husband...I've brought you a treat."

"Really, now."

"This very impudent canvasari has been saying the most salacious things about me," she said, "I only just got wind of it today, you understand. Filthy mouth, this one--apparently he's been telling people how he'd like to fuck me. Put me on my back and rut at me until I've forgotten anything but him, until I'm senseless with pleasure...and then--then, worst of all, he said he would do it so well he'd see his seed take root. You understand this couldn't stand."

"Certainly I do." Voryn moved closer, watching with eagerness as Nerevar struggled in his bonds. "This is the one that has the parts of a woman too, if I'm not mistaken?"

"You are correct," Sadara grinned. "So I thought I would bring him here, and see what you'd like done with him."

Again Nerevar struggled, a movement that only intensified once Voryn disrobed and joined him on the bed.

"We have a hierarchy here," Voryn said, grabbing Nerevar by the jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes, "And you, as I am sure you have been told many times over the years, are at the bottom. What makes you think you can behave like this, hmm? Have we been too kind to you?"

"I think we have, my dear lord husband," Sadara said, "Do you want any assistance?"

"No, no need. All I need from you is to watch his punishment...unless you would like to join in."

"Perhaps once you've gotten started. He'll be far too mouthy to start...and I would prefer him to be in a more...amiable state."

"Do we still have the oil?"

"Of course we do," she said. "Let me fetch it."

When she got up and headed for the cabinet on the other side of the room, Voryn looked back to Nerevar. "I can't blame you for the attraction...but your words? Those, I expected to be more respectful She is the lady of this House, not some common whore."

He removed the gag, and Nerevar instantly went on the attack.

"I'd fuck her like she was one," he spat, "And do better at it than you, too. The woman looks like she needs a good railing--look at YOU, you probably can't have at her more than once a week at best. She needs a man--a real man, someone who works for a living. A man with muscle, hard, not soft like--urk--"

In the next instance he was on his back, with Voryn leaning over him. All the bravado was gone, for an instant. But it was gone.

"What was that?"

"You think this scares me?" Nerevar snapped, "You think lords like you haven't done this to me before? Drugged with with potions that drain my strength and used me for their own pleasure?"

"I can't blame them for it...given what you have on display. But this time will be different."

Nerevar stiffened when he felt a hand at his throat.

"This time, you're going to want it."

"I'm not," he half-snarled, giving a glance down at the loincloth which was clearly beginning to tent.

"Do try to relax," Sadara said as she appeared at the bedside with a bottle in her hands, "You're going to enjoy it a lot more if you do. We don't wish to hurt you - we only want you a little more cooperative."

The moment of distraction was enough - Nerevar's loincloth was stripped away, leaving him bare beneath both (rather amused) sets of eyes.

"Already hard? Our canvasari is lying to himself." Sadara gave a smirk. "Perhaps he'll only need a few drops after all."

"What--what is that--?"

The bottle was small, and smelled vaguely of roses and salt when opened. The oil that poured out--right onto his cock--was warm, but not unpleasantly so. But it was when it trickled down to his cunt that he started to squirm.

"Stop--" he groaned, "That's--that's enough. You aren't going to--"

"Be good and we won't make you wait too long." Voryn spoke this time. "Hmm...on the other hand...we do want you to remember this lesson. Sadara, use the whole bottle."

"It's the strongest we have, are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He turned a wicked grin in Nerevar's direction, "You should be pleased we're deigning to use it on you."

Nerevar stayed silent as Sadara leaned closer and slowly tipped the bottle over his chest. A few drops, drops she rubbed in that seemed to fill him with a needy warmth, a pattern which continued as her attention moved south. He could see the satisfied smirk on their faces at his humiliation--he was hard, almost painfully so. And then, with the bottle half empty, she moved past his cock and poured the remainder of the oil directly onto (and into) his cunt.

He groaned, and squirmed again as his legs were held open, stopping him from being able to do anything to prevent what was happening. Once the bottle was set aside she leaned down and planted a kiss on Nerevar's lips, then slid her hand down his body to probe eagerly--

"So wet for us. Where is that impudence now, hmm?" Sadara asked when she drew back.

"Fuck you," he spat, "When I'm let out of this--"

"When you're let out of this your only thought will be to get put back in." She gave a last thrust with her fingers and then drew them out of him, pleased with the suppressed moan Nerevar tried to stifle. "Oh, does our poor canvasari feel empty now?"

She glanced at Voryn.

"We should fix that, my dear lord husband."

"You--you can't just--" Nerevar struggled uselessly, and tensed when Sadara's hand closed around his cock. "Stop--"

He was so focused on her he didn't notice Voryn closing in. Voryn, entirely bare himself, and more than ready, was nearly inside Nerevar before the man noticed.

"Wait--wait, no--NO--"

A sudden thrust and he was fully in. Nerevar tried to stifle the groan that followed, but couldn't. His breath hitched and the pleasure he was feeling was written all over his face.

"Slowly, my dear," Sadara directed Voryn's movement, "Slowly, as long as you can bear it..."

She looked back to Nerevar, as Voryn tried to follow her order. But his eyes were shut, and as he moved--obvious to both of the others--it was a strain not to do more.

"Of course, it may not be very long. The oil will affect him, too...and you have been so very disobedient..."

Nerevar tried to form a response, but on a sharper thrust from Voryn all his words were apparently stolen away. He was fighting it, fighting the building heat in his gut, the desire he was trying to make obvious that he didn't feel.

But after a few minutes of steady thrusts--and breathing hard, Nerevar did finally find his words again.

"You're just like the rest," he said, groaning, "Going to have your husband fuck me and then--"

Her hand stroked idly at his cock, and stopped when his voice lifted up into a higher moan.

"And then what?" she teased.

"You--are going to--tell him that you are his proper wife and--and no one receives his seed but you."

Sadara gave a little gesture, and Voryn stopped. (With trembling hands, but he stopped) Then she leaned over and whispered in Nerevar's ear, "Today I make an exception. You wanted to involve yourself in House Dagoth's line, didn't you? Wanted to put your own seed in its Lady? Well..."

She looked back up at Voryn and gave a smirking nod, before turning back to Nerevar, gripping his chin so he couldn't look away. So she could see the increasing need in his eyes.

"We are in need of new blood, so I can think of no better punishment than for Lord Dagoth to put his seed in YOU."

"No--" Nerevar growled and shifted about, still unable to free his hands, "You will not--you will NOT--"

Again she kissed him, and her hand stroked at his painfully hard cock, while Voryn continued with his thrusts in relative silence. Nerevar was struggling to keep from crying out, but the sensation--the utter bliss--was overwhelming.

"You want it, don't you?" she whispered, and gripped him a little tighter. "Is that why you have such a foul mouth? You wanted to provoke your lord into--"

"He's quivering--internally," Voryn finally spoke again; his voice was a bit choked. "I think you're right."

"Oh, I am," she purred now in Nerevar's ear, and moved the hand at his cock up to his face, "Go on, let me hear it, canvasari. Let me hear you cry out for your lord's pleasure. Let it take you. Or..."

"If you make me stop again--"

"I'll make it worth your while..." Sadara's voice husked, and she grinned at Voryn. Who did stop.

"No--" Nerevar finally seemed to break, "No, no."

Sadara's tone shifted; where before it was commanding and almost cruel, now it was conciliatory and inviting. "No, what, sweetness?"

A slight whimper, and a shudder. His eyes stayed on hers, and the submission was obvious.

"All you have to do is tell me what you want, and ask nicely. That's all we want, is what's due us." She was stroking Nerevar's cheek now, watching his desperation. "So tell me, what do you want?"

"I-I want...please..." he squirmed, and trembled a bit, "Please, my lady, let him...finish me..."

"You want it," she whispered in his ear, and smiled against it when Nerevar nodded feverishly. "Say so, and he'll do it. Be good for your lord, and he will be good to you."

"Please," Nerevar begged, and turned his eyes to Voryn now, "Please, let me have--"

It was all the encouragement Voryn needed; he would wait for no more. He moved forward, braced himself with one arm, and began to piston his hips rapidly against Nerevar's.

Sadara moved away, laying back on the other side of the bed to watch the rest of the show in silence.

"Yes," Nerevar finally broke, his eyes shut in pure bliss, his voice letting every little moan out, "Yes, yes...don't stop, please..."

His voice raised a final time, in one overheated, needy, breathless moan--

--then his cock twitched, and spilled three pulses of his own seed onto his belly. Voryn followed soon after, burying himself in as deeply as possible before going empty himself with a strangled groan. Then--slowly, he withdrew.

Sadara reached for a towel on the bedtable, and while the other two were still collecting themselves and bathing in the afterglow, carefully cleaned Nerevar's seed from his belly. Then she grabbed the waiting potion also on the bedtable, and poured it into Nerevar's waiting mouth. To restore his strength, after it had been damaged for their little game.

"Are you alright?" she asked, as he tore out of the bonds around his wrists. "If it was too much--"

"No." Nerevar buried his face in her neck, and let out a satisfied breath when Voryn curled up behind him. "No. That was--that was exactly what I needed."

He needed it often, nights like this, nights that reassured him of his place in this triad of theirs. Nights that reminded him that what was going on was not going to simply evaporate and leave him alone.

Nights that made him comfortable with turning his back to anyone.

Nerevar luxuriated in their embraces, and soon afterwards all three of them slept.

(Voryn's snoring would wake them a few hours later, but it was heaven to fall asleep like that at all.)