#final camera roll dump from recently

[sickysick]

[sturnioloskyline]

smoke sesh

pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader

warnings: use of marijuana, awkwardness, making out, not proofread

summary: you decide it’s finally time to smoke weed. you’re inexperienced, but maybe your dealer, chris, can guide you through it.

a nervous pit began to form in y/n's stomach as she paced around her bedroom. for the first time in a while, she was expecting a guest.

y/n's personal life was rough at the moment. she just moved out of her parents' house to live on her own, she was struggling to find what she wanted to do with her life, and, on top of it all, her love life was going terribly.

she tried it all — dating apps, clubs, frat parties, coffee shops — y/n couldn't seem to find love anywhere. her friends even tried to set her up, but all of her dates ended the same: y/n either had no interest in the men she was set up with or got horribly mistreated by them. all that y/n had been dreaming of recently was a hot guy who also happened to not be an asshole, but that seemed to be a rarity these days.

overall, y/n had been down in the dumps and was in desperate need of a pick-me-up. that was when she remembered her best friend recommending a soothing solution.

...

"seriously, it just makes you feel... better," y/f/n explained, sitting next to y/n on her bed.

"i don't know. it just makes me nervous, i guess, losing control." y/n said to her friend. "like i want to be in full control of my brain and my body at all times."

"you are in control. you're just less scared," y/f/n smiled at y/n. "y'know, i think you would really benefit from smoking weed."

y/n scoffed. she was an adult now, and she had never tried any substances before. she wasn't against recreational drugs, she just never had the urge to partake in them. "yeah right. as if you'd catch me casually with a blunt in hand."

y/f/n giggled at the image of her friend smoking. "yeah. but you would be a lot less stressed. if you ever change your mind, i have a dealer, just saying…"

y/n rolled her eyes. "yeah. I'll keep you posted."

...

and now here y/n was, in the middle of the night, chewing on her fingernails as she waited for a response from the man whose snapchat she'd gotten from her friend the other day.

y/n's phone pinged and she immediately brought the screen to her face to read the notification.

chris sturniolo

yeah i can be there soon

y/n's heart raced in anticipation. surprisingly, she was more excited than nervous. she'd been so tense, she was looking forward to anything that could take the edge off. y/n hearted the message and made her way to the kitchen so she could wait closer to the door.

y/n didn't really know what to expect for the interaction she was about to have. she assumed that it would just be like any other transaction: he'd show her the options, she'd pay him, and that would be that.

but as she waited, y/n grew more nervous about the purchase. she quickly pulled out her phone to google "what happens when you buy weed from a guy on snapchat", before she caught a glimpse of a certain notification.

chris sturniolo sent you a snap

y/n curiously clicked the notification, opening to a picture of chris in the driver's seat of his car, taken from his lap. he face hung over the camera but his blue eyes were focused on the road in front of him. his soft brown hair stuck out slightly under the grey beanie he was wearing, and a silver chain dangled from his neck.

y/n was left in awe. she didn't really know what she expected him to look like, but it was definitely not that. this guy looked good, the kind of look that made y/n's cheeks heat up from just one picture. y/n was only more anxious about the whole situation now that she knew a really cute guy was involved. before she even had time to process the whole thing, another notification pops up at the top of her screen.

chris sturniolo is typing...

y/n hesitated for a second before opening her chats with chris. he had only sent one word.

chris sturniolo

here

y/n silently cursed herself for her impulsiveness in inviting chris over. she was way too eager, and now everything was becoming way too real. soon enough y/n could hear footsteps outside her door, and three rapid knocks echoed in her ears. she apprehensively made her way to the door, opening it to reveal chris standing there with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

"hey."

"hi," y/n replied awkwardly, cracking her door farther open. chris took this as an invitation to step inside, and he walked in and glanced around the area.

"nice place." chris mumbled, making his way over to y/n's kitchen without any instruction. y/n just watched him as she locked her front door, unsure of what to do. chris took off his backpack and set it on the counter, beginning to take out various plastic baggies and laying them out.

"so... how does this work?" y/n asked, slowly approaching chris in the kitchen as she watched him move.

"um, what do you mean?" chris's eyebrows furrowed, but he kept his attention on the task at hand. y/n remained silent, unsure of how to answer. chris stopped and looked up at her. "have you ever bought weed before?"

"no..." y/n replied meekly, slightly embarrassed. chris chuckled and shook his head.

"well... do you know what you want?" chris asked. he tilted his head at y/n as she approached the counter, letting her take a look at the different strains, labeled by sharpie on the baggies.

“what’s the best one, for um, beginners?” y/n squeaked out, nervous under chris’s gaze.

chris walked up behind y/n, and placed his hands on the counter on either side of her waist. y/n breath hitched in her throat as she felt chris's abdomen press lightly against her back. he looked over y/n's shoulder at the bags on the counter sighing.

"i mean, personally, i don't think the strain matters," chris explained casually picking up a bag and examining the bud inside. "but i guess since you haven't tried anything before, you could try a hybrid first."

y/n nodded absentmindedly, not really focusing on what chris was saying. she was more focused on how his bicep slightly flexed as he flipped the bag of weed around in his hand, and the faint smell of cologne that wafted past her nose as she moved. her eyes drifted to his fingers, fiddling with the bag's seal. chris noticed, a small smile forming on his face.

"wanna try it right now?" chris asked, snapping y/n out of her trance.

"what? oh! um, yeah," y/n mumbled, stepping away from chris to face him. "uh, how much?"

chris chuckled and shook his head. "it's okay. on the house."

"oh no, you don't have to-"

"it's your first time, enjoy it." chris interrupted, setting the bag down on the counter and reaching into his bag for supplies.

y/n watched silently, butterflies swarming in her stomach. she had never felt this way about a guy before, let alone a guy she had just met who also happened to be dealing her drugs. it was something about the way chris's black tank top hugged his torso and the way his jeans hung low around his hips, revealing the waistline of his boxers. chris had undeniable sexual appeal, and y/n just couldn't help herself from feeling flustered around him.

chris pulled a grinder, rolling papers, filters and an ashtray out of his backpack. y/n finally ripped her eyes away from chris to focus on what he was doing. he took a bit of the weed and ground it down, turning his head quickly to glance back at y/n. he caught her watching him and flashed her a grin before focusing again. y/n blushed profusely.

a few minutes of comfortable silence passed as chris tightly rolled two joints, gliding his tongue along the wrapping paper to seal them. y/n was mesmerized, both by the meticulous process and the fact that chris was the one doing it. chris set down the joints and backed up from the counter.

"have you ever smoked anything before?" chris asked curiously, watching y/n's face. he could sense that she was nervous, from the way she was fidgeting to the way her voice was barely audible with every response she gave. y/n bit her cheek as she looked into chris's eyes, shaking her nead slowly. "do you want me to.. smoke with you?"

"would you?" y/n seemed to have a weight lifted off of her shoulders as soon as chris asked. the reaction made chris smile.

"yeah, of course," chris chuckled, sticking his hand in his jeans pocket and fishing out an orange lighter. "you're gonna want a water bottle or something."

y/n nodded, walking around to the fridge, grabbing two water bottles. she walked back over to chris's side, handing him a water bottle. chris flipped it in his hand effortlessly, thanking her soflty and picking up the ashtray, joints, and lighter in his other hand.

"is there a window we could sit by? don't wanna leave your place smelling too bad." chris looked around for a place to sit.

"yeah, here," y/n replied, turning around and leading chris to her living room. where she sat on a small couch just below a window. chris sat down next to her leaning over to the wall and helping her push the window open. they sat back down on the couch and faced each other as chris set down an ashtray on the coffee table in front of them. y/n took a deep breath as chris took a joint in his left hand, holding it between his thumb and pointer as he held his lighter in his other hand.

"okay. so," chris began explaining, looking at y/n's face as he did. y/n's eyes flicked up to meet his, and the two maintained eye contact as chris talked through the process. "i'll take puff first, i guess, to show you how."

y/n nodded, watching as chris brought the joint in front of his face and light it, bringing it down the tray and tapping it before bringing it between his pink lips. his cheeks hollowed as he took a long inhale. he took the joint out fo his mouth and passed it to y/n, who shakily took it in between her fingertips. chris's eyebrows furrowed from the slight sting of the smoke he was holding in his lung, watching y/n's hands to make sure that the joint stayed lit. he tilted his head to the window to release the smoke from his mouth, blowing it out into the night air. y/n watched the whole thing, only growing more anxious.

"so you just wanna inhale with it in your mouth, lightly," chris spoke, nodding to give y/n the go-ahead. y/n brought the joint up to her lips, her hand trembling. she stuck the joint in her mouth and tightly wrapped her lips around it.

"like this?" y/n mumbled around the joint. chris chuckled and brought his own hand to y/n's wrist.

"here, relax," chris moved y/n's hand away from her face a bit. "open your mouth more. just rest it there, gentle."

chris's voice was quiet as he readjusted y/n's form. she watched him as his face leaned in closer to her own. "better. now inhale."

y/n inhaled softly, feeling the smoke travel through her body, her throat scratching a bit.

"once it kinda burns, stop and hold it in your lungs." y/n brought the joint down, handing it to chris and holding her breath. her face scrunched up as she felt a burning sensation in her chest begin to grow. out of reflex, she quickly turned to the window and coughed out smoke. chris's hand flew out to her back for support. "woah! you okay?"

"yeah, just—" y/n cut herself off by coughing. chris kept his hand on the small of y/n back as she coughed. he set the joint down in the tray and reached over to grab a water bottle from the table, unscrewing it and bringing it up to y/n's lips, she reached out and took the bottle, taking a sip to sooth the fire in her lungs.

"it's okay, deep breaths, you'll be okay." chris murmured affirmations as y/n worked through her cough attack. eventually, y/n calmed down and brought her hand up to wipe the few tears that pricked at the corner of her eyes.

"i'm sorry, i think i inhaled too long," y/n chuckled awkwardly, embarrassed at herself for coughing like that in front of chris. it was then that y/n became hyperaware of chris's hand on her back, causing her to blush.

"it's okay, it happens to everyone," chris grinned at y/n, finding her shyness endearing. "we'll take it slow. you feelin' anything yet?"

"nope," y/n smiled awkwardly, watching as chris effortlessly took another hit. chris handed the joint back to her, and she took a short puff, blowing the smoke out the window with a few coughs.

"better!" chris grinned, causing y/n to giggle.

"thanks," y/n mumbled, taking another sip of water. chris tapped the joint against the ashtray and bringing it to his mouth. "so, when did you start smoking?"

chris chuckled at the icebreaker, smoke spewing out of his mouth. the two of them fell into small talk as they shared the joint, growing more and more comfortable with each other as they lazily passed the weed back and forth. suddenly y/n felt a wave wash over her, and her sensed heightened. her body stiffened, and chris noticed, his eyes flicking over her face.

"you okay?" chris asked for a second time, lightly reaching out and grazing his fingertips against y/n's arm.

"yeah..." y/n spoke lowly, her eyes landing on chris's. something about chris seemed different now. his features were more prominent and detailed, and she was definetly even more drawn to him. without thinking, she reached out and touched chris's silver chain, fiddling with it in her fingers, the sensation feeling unique. "chris?"

"yeah?" chris's voice was just above a whisper, his eyes not leaving y/n's face. something about the way her delicate hands pulled at his necklace made his breath hitch. he found himself craving her touch, but pushed the thought away, blaming it on the marijuana in his system.

"i think it's hitting me." y/n looked back up at chris, her eyes flicking between his. chris swallowed.

"how's it feel?"

"feels like... i'm in a dream," y/n spoke absentmindedly, not breaking eye contact with chris. chris smiled and nodded at her explanation. y/n couldn't help but smile back. "you're really sweet, chris."

"is that suprising?" chris asked, a heat slowly rising to his cheek at the compliment.

"yeah, kinda," y/n whispered. chris's eyes flicked to y/n's lips as she spoke, and before he could stop himself, chris was asking y/n a question.

"can i kiss you?"

y/n's jaw fell slightly open at the question, completely taken off guard. chris's own eyes widened, and he quickly pulled himself away from y/n, his face quickly reddening. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that out loud, i mean, i want to, i mean—!"

with a sudden boost of confidence, y/n leaned closer to chris and looked up at chris through her eyelashes, leaving chris too flustered to keep defending himself. "please kiss me."

chris needed no further encouragement, his hands finding y/n's face and pulling her up to meet him. his eyes quickly flicked to y/n's before he leaned in and pressed his lips to y/n's. his lips were surprisingly soft, moving slowly against y/n's. chris's tongue slipped past his lips, and y/n opened her mouth, allowing him in. y/n's hands moved to chris's neck, one of her hands travelling under his beanie to grip at his hair.

chris kept one of his hands on y/n's cheek, letting the other one fall down to hold her waist. he spread his legs apart, pulling y/n towards him. y/n broke the kiss to yelp in surprise, sending the both of them into a giggling fit. warmth spread throughout y/n's body as she watched the way chris's eyes crinkled as he laughed, flashing his teeth. the image only made her smile more. y/n leaned into chris, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. chris wrapped his arms around y/n's frame without a second thought.

it was all too natural, the way chris leaned back into the couch with y/n in his arms, holding her softly. y/n hummed in content, her eyelids suddenly struggling to stay open as chris sighed underneath her.

"thanks chris," y/n mumbled lazily, letting her eyelids flutter shut as she sunk deeper into the warmth of his body.

chris hummed back, peering at the girl on his chest. he was shocked he had ended up in this position, but lord, he was not complaining. chris smiled to himself before letting his own red eyes fall shut. the drugs in chris and y/n's systems lulled them both to sleep, and they stayed like that for the rest of the night.

...

author's note: wow that felt LONG. i need to smoke after that one. let me know if u want a (potentially smutty)part 2. 😚 love u bye!

[mariamakeslemons]

Spooktober 2024: Day 24 Spree Killer

Warning: Murder, Exotic animal as a "pet", willing accomplice and kidnapping

His hands are still shaking from the mission, and Nikto knows that he can’t return to you just yet. He’s too wound up, the voices too loud, everything is just too much. He needs a release. Unfortunately for the person walking past the alley he’s standing in, Nikto is not a good man.

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

You hum a random song as the news talks about the most recent murder, warning people to be on high alert. The apple cake is pulled from the oven, allowing it to cool as you finish prepping the apartment for Andre’s return. Sputnik trails after you, cackling happily every time you pause to scratch behind her ear.

The apartment door opens and you turn with a smile as he enters.

“Welcome home, Andre,” you chirp, opening your arms. Andre sways a little before slumping into your arms with a sigh. You huff, scrunching your nose a little at the sharp iron smell clinging to him, but still hold him close.

“Let’s get you in the bath,” you tell him, pulling back enough to lead Andre to the bathroom. He allows this, trailing behind you eagerly, as Sputnik licks at Andre’s fingers.

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Krueger smokes his cigarette, blowing the smoke toward the street as Nikto slaughters the John they had caught hurting a prostitute.

“Surprised you didn’t go after th’ whore,” Krueger comments idly. The pause tells Krueger that he’s fucked up. Ducking out of the way of Nikto’s blade, he holds his hands up, “I meant in the sense that she’d be less likely to be missed. You just killed an “upstanding citizen” in an alley way.”

“No,” Nikto rasps, “No sweets.” Krueger doesn’t get what the other man means, but he’s not going to push. If Nikto needs to kill people after a mission for release, then he’s not saying shit.

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

Andre comes in and wraps his arms around you as you type on your work computer. Eagerly, you lean back and kiss his masked cheek as Sputnik cackles at finally being allowed into your office.

“Welcome back, Lovely,” you coo, raising your hands from the keyboard to roll up the mask enough for a proper kiss. Andre hums, turning his scarred chin happily toward you for that kiss. You faintly taste rust and iron, but you ignore it. Andre’s home and dinner's just about ready if your clock isn’t wrong. It’s a lovely night.

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

“Wh-Why are you doing this?!” the woman in the pantsuit pleads, staring at her dead companion instead of Nikto. He doesn’t respond, instead he walks closer to her, his knife drawn. She opens her mouth to scream, only to be cut off when Nikto stabs her in the throat. Pulling it out, he grins under the mask as the voices cheer and settle as she collapses. He cleans off the knife, stows it away and idly wonders if you would be excited should he stop by the bakery. With your sweet tooth, it’s likely enough that he starts the walk to the bakery, only pausing to take the camera that had gone off as he kills the companion and fishing out the recorder the woman had been fiddling with beforehand. König owes Nikto for several near misses in the past few missions, the Colonel can delete any images or recordings of Nikto should either item be discovered in the dump he’ll take them to.

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

You fall back with a laugh when Sputnik releases the tug-of-war toy, giggling when she hurries to crowd you, licking you happily. The door opens and you tilt your head back.

“Welcome home, Andre,” you chirp, before gasping and scrambling up at the sight of the all too familiar bakery bag, “You didn’t have to!”

“Want to,” Andre declares, his ice blue eyes melting as you take the bag from him with a beaming smile. Peeking in, you grin even wider.

“Are you sure you didn’t read my mind?” you joke, “These will be perfect for dinner tonight. Thank you, Andre.”  You press another kiss to his mask, ignoring the scent of blood.

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

Nikto worries as he catches sight of you as he and the others enter the luggage claim. Sputnik is in a harness beside you, the vest you made to denote Sputnik as an ambassador animal on and she’s on her best behavior. Although, it almost changes when you say something to her and her head snaps to Nikto.

“Oh? Isn’t that the little hyena you saved?” Krueger asks, having caught sight of you and Sputnik as well, “I didn’t know you gave them up.”

“I didn’t,” Nikto answers, speeding past him and away from the others, wanting to keep you to himself for as long as possible.

“Hey there, handsome,” you chirp, smiling at him easily. Sputnik shuffles forward to whine, begging for scratches. He complies, leaning forward to also press his forehead to your own, the most PDA he’s willing to do. Especially as the voice go back and forth on what to do to you. They know you are his home, but bloodlust is still burning.

“I got a treat for you,” you whisper, causing him to look at you curiously. You smile again and take his hand, leading him to the car. Nikto is about to pull away to get his bag, only for Sputnik, who somehow got away from you, trotting up with his small personal bag held in her jaws.

“Lead the way,” he decides. You hum and do just that.

You rented a car, an SUV with the last row folded down for Sputnik to lay comfortably as you drive Nikto out of the city.

“So, there’s this old place out in the woods,” you idly ramble once you leave city limits, “And no one really owns it, so I may have done something for you.”

“Something?” Nikto intones curiously.

“A surprise,” you chirp, “A good one.” Nikto hums, pleased at the compromise you continue to give. He does not like surprises, but you love to give surprises of affection and treats. So, you have taken to telling him when you got him something, but you’d keep what it is a secret. He likes it.

Arriving at the building, Nikto takes note of some kind of noise coming from inside. You skip up to the door and unlock it, but wait for him to stand at your side before opening the door. Inside is a vaguely familiar face, a man who had insulted Nikto while you had been out with him on a date.

“You need to let out the last of your bloodlust,” you declare, walking around to stand behind the frantic man, “So, I found this fucker just for you. He had some… interesting words to share when I got him.” The voices in Nikto’s head sing your praise as his hand itches to rip the bastard apart. You walk back toward Nikto and press a kiss to his masked cheek, telling him, “I’m going to grab Sputnik so she can have a nice meal before we go home.”

“Acknowledged,” Nikto growls out, drawing out a knife, not even waiting for the door to close behind you as he prowls toward the man. It was nice to know you support his hobby.

[tally-hautism]

She/They

Special interests: tally hall and space but mainly tally hall

Although my name may not suggest it. I am in fact normal about tally hall......

IS WHAT I WOULD SAY IF I WAS A FUCKING WEIRDO

Tally hall is the single greatest thing to exist and you can put that on my grave.

Expect tally hall content from here and scarce else.

If you or anyone you know is in need of a tally hall related info dump call 1-800-tallyme or ping this blog.

I am aromantic acespec

Gender is Working On It. Not certain yet

Ok enough about me. I will try to provide links to any tally hall content I reference, if I don't and you want it please call me out on it and I'll get it to you post haste

My pfp is the most recent tally hall photo i had saved in my camera roll. It is from Ross Federman's discussion on proteins

Final words to this pinned post

Everything is a tally hall reference if you try hard enough and I'm the hardest tryer alive

Ok byee

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Your stories & regency movies are my happy place currently in a world of awful. Also, so glad you're inspired to start into On the Run again because I love it! ALSO ALSO - another reality show prompt if you're interested lolol. Sansa is the host of a reality show (dating? survivor-y? Skill-based forged in fire-y?) and Jon is on the show. Maybe fans of the show are obsessed with them?

first - thank you anon, I'm so happy you like my writing! That's so sweet

second - funnily enough, @hilarychuff and I MAY have gone on a tangent a long time ago about alternate Bachelor stories, including one where Sansa was hosting Bachelor in Paradise (and I even wrote a bit at that time, too). Smash cut to me getting this prompt, and I was immediately reminded of that. So thank you anon, for the prompt, which got me to finish the snippet I had started writing, and thank you to hil, for helping brainstorm & come up with ideas! I didn't even get to use most of them, but they will live rent free in my head.

third - this is in no way related to my full Bachelor story, I just have a problem. And yes, I did write this during the 3 hour Bachelorette finale last night. It kept me sane.

.

read it here:

ephemera, chapter 30

.

Sansa rolls her luggage into the hotel room, depositing it near the foot of the bed before turning and flopping face down onto the mattress.

She can't believe she's back.

One would think, after two disastrous runs on this show, that she would know better than to sign another contract.

First, her time on Joffrey's season that had ended with her in tears, humiliated on national television. Watching that season back had been a revelation. Watching him lie to her. Watching her eat it up. She remembers in the Fantasy Suite, he'd told her he loved her and hinted she was going to be his winner, and she had agreed to sleep with him, thinking he'd be her fiance in another two weeks - only to be dumped in the finale for Margaery.

And then, while she was still emotionally destroyed and with her dignity in ruins, she had agreed to be Bachelorette. She'd signed the contract with the producers telling her this would be her comeback, she would be redeemed, she would get her love story. Instead, what she got was Harry. An actor and musician who she only found out later, after she picked him (after he put a ring on her finger), had a girlfriend already. He was using the show - using her – to further his career.

God, why did she agree to come back?

At least she's only the host this time.

…

Free vacation, she reminds herself as she sits down with Tyrion, and Varys for her debriefing. That's what they're calling it – debriefing – as if this is some top secret mission and not a reality TV show that, ultimately, is meaningless.

She's reminding herself why she's doing this. Free vacation, and the fat paycheck she would get from it. A big paycheck. They're desperate, after the scandal that ousted Jaime from his iconic host role – one he'd held for over a decade. They had called her up and practically begged her to come to Paradise. They needed the ratings she could bring. Twice-dumped Sansa. Even now, a year and a different Bachelorette later, people are still calling for her return.

It's sweet, really, that people want her to have her love story. It's sweet that they care. And she's lucky, she knows, to have come out the other side of this with a relatively positive reputation within Bachelor Nation. There was even a recent poll where she was voted the most popular Bachelorette of all time.

But the thing is, Sansa can't do this again. She can't have her heart broken on television, in front of millions of people, again.

So she'd turned them down. A hard no. And no, there's nothing they could do to convince her.

Well, that was her stance, until they offered her the host gig. Take over Jaime's role, instead of coming on as a contestant. Get on camera to welcome the actual contestants to Paradise, say a few lines at the elimination ceremonies, do some narration in post-production. Minimal work, considering the amount of money they're throwing at her just so she'll come back. Just so she'll help them rebuild a bit of their crumbling reputation after the scandal.

She can do this.

Free vacation, minimal work, lots of money.

…

The first round goes fine.

Sansa stands at the entrance to Paradise and greets each new cast member as they show up. She's friends with some of them, and familiar with almost all of them – Dany arrives first, her pale blonde hair in a crown of intricate braids and wearing a silver bikini she barely hides under a wrap. The show had tried to paint her as a villain on Daario's season, but most of the audience ended up liking her anyway, and now she's set to be the star of the beach this season. Sansa can already picture the men tripping over themselves to get with her.

Next comes Theon, from Val's season, all cocky smile and waggling eyebrows as she greets him. Then Mya, Dickon, Myranda... the list goes on. She loses track of who she greets, and by the end of it, her cheeks hurt from smiling. Then she goes and gives the group a welcome speech, hands out the date card, and she's done.

Back to the hotel for a massage and a drink (or two).

By the time she's nice and relaxed and laying by the hotel pool, she thinks she definitely made the right decision.

…

The day after the first elimination round, Sansa stands at the top of the stairs leading down to Paradise, waiting for the new arrivals. As she's waiting, she reads the card that has the basic info of the new contestants again, just to make sure she's got it.

First will be Domeric, he was on one of the earlier seasons. She doesn't remember him, and she wonders if the audience will.

Then it's Jon. She does remember him – he'd been on Val's season, the year after Sansa's.

Sansa remembers Jon the way everyone else does – because Twitter went crazy over him. He'd been eliminated night one, and Twitter had gone into an uproar about it. The hashtag #MechanicJon was trending through the whole season, memes were made, a petition was created to make him the next Bachelor. All for a guy who was eliminated night one, who didn't even have an Instagram account until he became internet famous and had to create one because of all the fake accounts that were popping up.

She's surprised he's here, honestly.

Though to be fair, the contestants are actually paid for Paradise, so he probably figured why not – a couple grand for three weeks of shooting, plus a free vacation to Sayulita? She's here for the same reasons.

Domeric comes down first and he's nice enough. She greets him and hands him the date card, and he heads in, no issues.

Then Sansa's dabbed with oil blotters, she's given a fresh coat of powder to try and hide how ungodly hot it is here, and then she's back in position, waiting for the next arrival.

Jon comes down next, and she will admit, she does understand the appeal of him. He's so unlike most of the other contestants – he's a mechanic from Boston (which actually isn't too far from her hometown). From the brief minutes of screentime he got, plus the bits she's seen of him on social media, he almost seems like a sort of anti-contestant. Someone she never could have imagined would go on the show. She thinks she remembers some article, where he said his niece had begged him to go on, which is the only reason he did.

“Welcome to Paradise,” she greets when he makes it to her. He's even more handsome in person, she thinks idly.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, then seems to rethink it and adds, “it's great to be here.”

He's a bit awkward, she thinks he doesn't really know how to hold himself in front of cameras. It's refreshing, actually, and sort of cute. He gives her a tentative smile that she returns in full, and her smile seems to give him a bit of confidence - she watches his shoulders square and his spine straighten, and his own smile gets wider.

“Now, you had such a short run on the show, are you excited for the possibility of finding love here in Paradise?”

“Yeah,” he says, though he doesn't sound convinced.

“Let's try that again, with a bit more enthusiasm,” Tyrion calls from behind the camera, and Jon winces. “Say you're excited to get a real chance at love. You're looking for The One.”

She can see Jon hesitate, and she realizes now why he was sent home night one. He doesn't seem as willing to play the game as most of the others, and if Val was on the fence about him, Sansa can imagine the producers telling her to cut him, knowing he wouldn't be easy to control.

That's what they like, she knows. Easily controllable contestants, or the ones who create explosive drama. Jon, it seems, is neither. She thinks the only reason he made it to paradise is because of his sudden spike of popularity.

“I'm really excited to... see what comes out of this for me,” is what he ends up saying, and Sansa tries to suppress her smile, just knowing Tyrion is likely fuming. The producers want the contestants to talk about love as much as possible, and Jon isn't giving them what they want.

“Well, here's a date card for your first chance at love here in Paradise,” she says, holding out the envelope to him. “You can ask anyone.”

Jon nods, looks at the envelope, then back up at her, eyes flicking over her briefly. “Would you want to go?” he asks, and for a moment all Sansa can do is stare.

“Me?” she asks, completely dumbfounded.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, giving her another one of his smiles.

To her utter horror, she feels a swirl of butterflies in her stomach.

“Uh,” she looks towards production for help, but Tyrion is watching them intently and hasn't cut. “I'm the host,” she says, turning back to Jon.

“Oh,” Jon's brows furrow a bit. “So... I can't take you on the date?”

“Yeah, that's not really how it works,” she glances over at Tyrion again, who remains silent. “Um, you take the card down to the beach and you talk to the women – or men, whatever you prefer – and see which one of them you'd like to take on a date.” She tries to make her voice light and airy, tries to add a bit of laughter, but she's not sure how well it works.

“You were on the show before, right?” he asks, and she's actually a bit surprised that he doesn't know who she is, considering how much of a mess both her "journeys" had been. He must have gone on the show without ever watching an episode.

“Right,” she nods.

“But I can't ask you,” he says, brows furrowing even deeper. For a second she wonders if he's an idiot, but then she sees the slight quirk to his lips, and she narrows her eyes at him. He's being obtuse on purpose.

“I'm off limits,” she says archly, flicking her hair over her shoulder, and she watches his lips twitch, like he's trying to hold back a smile.

“Okay, I think I've got it now,” Jon nods slowly.

Sansa rolls her eyes at him, and he finally gives her a full grin. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, and sends those butterflies in her tummy going again.

“Then you should go on down,” she gestures towards the stairs that lead down to the beach.

He gives her once last look, his eyes raking over her fully, before he heads past her.

Once he's gone, Sansa's knees almost feel like they're about to give out.

It's just the heat, she tells herself, as she heads over to where the cameras are set up.

“Why didn't you jump in?” she asks Tyrion when she reaches them, pulling at the microphone taped to her before Pod even gets there to help her.

Tyrion gives her an appraising look and just shrugs. “That'll make for good TV,” he says, though there's something in his voice Sansa doesn't like. She's been around him enough by now to hear the things he doesn't say, and Tyrion's tone is... well, if she didn't know any better, she'd say he sounds almost giddy.

“Won't it muddle the story?” she frowns, grabbing one of the portable fans from Pod and closing her eyes for a moment as she turns it on her face. “You can't seriously be thinking of airing that. You should be focusing on the actual contestants and whatever romance he finds there.”

Sansa tries to think of the women here and she can't imagine who would even be Jon's type.

Not that she knows what Jon's type is.

She doesn't know Jon at all.

Sansa heads towards the car waiting to take her back to the hotel, and she really does not like the gleam in Tyrion's eye.

…

“And just to be clear,” Jon says, as everyone watches him pick up a rose from the table, “I'm not allowed to give this to you?”

Sansa can feel her face go hot, just like it does every time he flirts with her.

Everyone on the beach knows he tried to ask her on the date when he first arrived, and now it's a thing. The girls are keeping him on, giving him a rose at every elimination ceremony where they have the power, even though he hasn't formed a romantic connection with any of them. They're keeping him around for this – for the moments when Sansa is on set and Jon will, inevitably, ask if he can give her a rose or take her on a date.

There's a few cheers from the contestants, and Sansa turns a glare on them. Her friends, and even the ones she's not all that close with, are really enjoying this.

“That's against the rules,” she tells Jon, just like she has the last two times.

“Right, right,” he nods, which gets a laugh from the others. Then he turns back, holds up the rose, and says, “Missandei?” Missandei tears up as she steps forward. She'd just had her heart stomped on, and Sansa hates how sad she looks. Luckily she's made friends with a lot of the girls, especially Dany, so Sansa knows she at least has a support system here. “I think you deserve another shot at love,” Jon says as she walks over to him. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Thank you,” Missandei sniffs, giving him a watery smile.

Sansa watches and narrates the rest of the ceremony, then says goodbye to those who were eliminated. As they're wrapping up, Jon makes his way over to her.

“You're still alright?” he asks, murmurs it to her as the crew starts to herd the contestants away. But they leave Jon alone, and she knows it's because Tyrion has told them to. In fact, she's fairly certain there's a camera somewhere, trained on them right now. “Just tell me if-”

“It's fine,” she whispers. He had asked, the first time he did this, if his flirting made her uncomfortable. She had stuttered through her response, which ended up being – no. No, it didn't make her uncomfortable. The only thing that does is that they're being filmed, and she swore she'd never do this again in front of cameras.

“Alright,” he nods, eyes searching her face, like he's trying to make sure she isn't lying. “I'll see you next time, then?”

“Good night, Jon,” she says, trying to sound professional. But it's hard when he gives her a soft smile and his gaze drops to her lips, before he finally turns around and heads off with the other contestants.

“Stop filming me,” she scolds Tyrion the moment they're gone.

“What?” Tyrion says, eyes wide and innocent. “We film everything.”

“I told you I don't want to be a contestant,” she huffs. “So stop-” she waves around at the cameras that are now being packed away, now that Jon's gone.

“Seems to me,” Tyrion hums, eyebrows raised, “you could tell him to stop anytime and he would. Then we'd have nothing to film.”

Tyrion spins on his heel and walks away and she stares after him, mouth agape.

…

Sansa groans as she zips up her makeup bag, looking at herself one last time in the mirror before she heads back into the living quarters of her hotel room.

Production had interrupted her very important sipping-margaritas-by-the-pool time to tell her she had to get camera ready. She wasn't supposed to film today, so she has no idea what's going on.

There's a knock at her door and she makes her way over to it, expecting Tyrion to be on the other side.

Instead, it's Jon.

“Hi,” she says, eyes immediately darting around the hall to look for the cameras.

Except there aren't any. At least not that she can see. Just a production assistant waiting a distance away.

“Hey,” he says, giving her that same soft, warm smile. “I just wanted to let you know, I've uh... I've decided to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I mean, obviously this isn't for me. I've known that since I got here. I should've left earlier, if I'm being honest, but...”

His eyes meet hers, and something swoops low in her belly that she tries to ignore.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I just wanted to um... here.” He hands her a piece of paper and she unfolds it to find- “My number,” he says, as if she couldn't figure that out. “In case you ever wanted to call me. I don't really look at any social media, so if you tried to contact me that way... but yeah. You can call me if you want.”

Her head feels completely empty of words, and all she can do is nod.

He leaves, then, escorted out by the production assistant who had been waiting down the hall, and Sansa slowly closes the door and goes to sit on the couch.

She's not sure how long she sits there, staring blankly into the distance, when a knock comes at the door and she jolts out of her reverie.

It is Tyrion this time, and he gives her a look.

“Did you get the footage you wanted?” she asks, trying to sound annoyed, though she's still reeling. Still clutching that scrap of paper.

“Didn't get any footage,” Tyrion drawls. “Did you see a camera around?”

She hadn't, but they're sneaky sometimes.

“He asked to come up, but said he wouldn't if we followed him with cameras, so-” Tyrion shrugs.

“Why would you agree to that?”

A look passes over Tyrion's face, something she might almost describe as soft. Affectionate. Or, she would, if she didn't know Tyrion better than that.

“I know we're usually all cynics here,” he says, “and hey, maybe the show's finally brainwashed me, but I think you deserve that love story you were looking for.”

Sansa sucks in a breath as Tyrion reaches out and places a hand on her arm, just for a moment, before he lets go and leaves her hotel room.

Still in a daze, she walks back and sits on the couch, before pulling out her phone, and adding his number.

Hi, she types. This is Sansa Stark.

[duuhrayliegh]

dm slide

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, language, nothing else really, it’s just really fluffy i think

word count: 1905

a/n: okay so my other stuff is coming, i stg, i’m just in the middle of finals and moving out of my dorm, and starting a new job, so i’m a bit stressy right now, but i’m getting there loves.

so if this one isn’t as good as it could be that’s why, but i’m hoping to add on to it later

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

You were currently at your best friend’s birthday party, polishing off your third overfull glass of wine. Your best friend threw her hands above her head, shouting out “Shots on me!” She thrusted a shot glass in your hand, encouraging you to toss back the liquid. You set down your wine glass, picking up the smaller cup, not caring about the flashing cameras around you.

“I’m so glad you were able to get free from your oh so lavish lifestyle as a celebrity to come hang out with little ‘ol me!” She had to continue to shout for you to hear her over the loud music blasting through the club speakers. She grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the bathrooms. “Are you getting ready to go? The sound system is giving me a headache.” You smiled at her, grabbing your phone from your clutch.

“Absolutely, babes. Let me order the Uber and then we can go.” You held onto your phone tighter, walking up to the bar to settle your tab. “Hey, Gabe!” Gabe, one of the bartenders, turned to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” He went to grab a bottle of your favorite wine to uncork it, but stopped when you held your hand up.

“Just settling up and heading out.” You passed your black AmEx card over the counter to his waiting hand.

“You’re missin’ out, Y/N. The party is just getting started here.” You shook your head at the man.

“Nah, I’m celebrating my best friend’s birthday tonight, so this is her call.” He slid your card back to you, watching you push it into the slots of your clutch. “We’re getting outta here, but that doesn’t mean our party is ending.” You winked at him, meeting up with your companion. You linked arms with her, leading the way through the crowd. It was cold outside, which didn’t mean good things for you because of your almost too short dress. The Uber stopped beside the curb, rolling their window down for you to double check. You climbed in beside your friend, scooting closer to increase your warmth. The ride to your apartment wasn’t too long, thankfully because Uber’s creeped you out, no matter how safe you were.

Walking into your apartment was difficult to say the least. You both were stumbling the entire way to the elevator and then stumbling into your couch cushions. The two of you managed to make it to your bedroom, swapping out your tight garments for some more ill fitting attire. That was not before you took an absurd amount of photos together in your bathroom mirror. You sat across from each other on the black couch in your apartment, sifting through the pictures of the two of you. Your best friend was leaned over your shoulder, watching as you scrolled through.

“Oo! That one!” She pointed at the screen quickly, stopping your scrolling. It was of you holding the phone, leaning backward staring at the phone in your hand. Your best friend was facing you, her bare back displayed from the deep dip in the back of her dress. “We look so hot.” You both shared a look and then burst into a fit of laughter. You posted the picture to your Instagram, tagging your best friend in the corner, wishing her a happy birthday. She slid away from your, covering her lower half with a blanket.

“You want a water?” You asked as you rose from your spot on the couch. She smiled big at you.

“Can I convince you to mix up some margaritas?” Her bottom lip rolled inwards, waiting for  your response. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before opening your liquor cabinet. You pulled down bottles of triple sec and tequila, reaching into your freezer for the bag of strawberries and limeade. You brought your Ninja Bullet out to make individual margaritas for both you and your drunk friend. Walking back over to her with containers in hand, you plopped opposite her on the couch.

“You’re literally the bestest ever.” She slurped on the drink through her swirly straw. The conversation faded between the two of you, allowing the both of you to go through your socials. “Did you see that Lizzo got a message back from Chris Evans the other day?” You laughed at her question, remembering your reaction to Lizzo’s TikTok.

“Mhm. Can you imagine getting a reply back from one of those hunks of men?” She shook her head while guzzling her margarita.

“I can’t, but I bet you can.” You scrunch your brows at her and she groaned. “You’re a celebrity too, dumbass. Girl, the amount of times that I’ve gotta remind you of that is insane.” You laughed at her, rolling your eyes.

“Babes, just because I’m quote, unquote famous, doesn’t mean that I’m on their level.” She pointed a finger at you.

“Hey, just shoot your shot, Y/N.”

“I literally don’t even know which one I would DM.” Your best friend scoffed loudly.

“Bullshit!” You choked at how loud she yelled. “You don’t know who you would DM? I know who you would DM in a fucking heartbeat.” You looked over at her with raised brows and in unison you said. “Sebastian Stan.” “Sebastian Stan.”

“Mm, he is a six foot tall Romanian God.” You shook your head while fake moaning, your friend laughing in the background. She reached for your phone before you could protest, typing away on your keyboard, smiling mischievously. She thrust the phone back into your hands, the empty DM screen of imsebastianstan on Instagram staring back at you.

“All you gotta do is send something.” She smiled at you while you glanced down at your phone screen nervously. You began typing something quickly then locked the screen, placing it facing downward on your lap, a giggly smile resting on your face. She scooted closer to you, folding her legs up to her chin. “Wait! What did you say?” You unlocked your phone, showing her the screen. She laughed at your message, drinking the rest of her margarita.

y/n.y/l/n: hi, i’m y/n and you’re the love of my life ;) <3

“That’s so fucking good, oh my God.” She glanced at the clock on your phone. “Oh girl, we’ve gotta go to sleep.” You checked it as well, dropping your head into your hands.

“Mhm, you’re right.” You stood from your spot, holding your hand out to your friend to help her up. “Let’s go to sleep.” You both crashed on your king sized mattress underneath your white fluffy duvet. You were about to drift off to sleep, when your best friend’s voice floated into your ears.

“Do you think he’s gonna reply to you?” Her voice was slurring more and more from the amount she drank and the sleep weighing on her mind. You smiled at her, it was a long shot that he would even see it, much less reply.

“We’ll have to see, babes.” She didn’t reply to you as you both fell off into a dreamless abyss.

********************

The sun streaming into your room woke you up in the morning, light hitting your eyelid just right. You blinked harshly, bringing your hand up to block the glare. A groan escaped your lips, stretching out from your best friends grip. “Fuck me.” You held your head in your hand, groaning about the headache blossoming at the nape of your neck. You left the bed, pulling a sweater over your tank top to catch some warmth. You tucked your phone into the waistband of your shorts. You padded into the kitchen, grabbing your Advil bottle, dumping two pills into your hand. You got a glass of water, settling down on the couch after gulping down the headache medicine.

You opened your phone while basically inhaling your water. Your memories of last night were fuzzy, you drank quite a bit. Did you drink too much? Maybe… but did you regret it at all? Not a second of it. You had the best time hanging out with your best friend. You check your Instagram post, replying to several different comments. A red bubble was pinned over your DM button in the corner. You tilted your head in curiosity, wondering who messaged you now. You swiped over, eyes widening at the new message.

imsebastianstan: Hi, Y/N. I’m Sebastian, thank you for professing your love to me.

The feeling of panic running through your veins didn’t last long, A gigantic smile spread accompanied by a giggle. What the fuck do you do now? Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, thinking through what you want to say back.

y/n.y/l/n: hello sebastian, what do ya say we  figure out if it’s a match :)

You sent the message before you could chicken out, locking the phone shortly after, shoving it in your waistband. You got up, refilling your glass of water, leaning against your granite countertop, tapping your fingers impatiently. You squealed as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

imsebastianstan: What do you have in mind?

y/n.y/l/n: 917-555-0545 <3

Oh my god, you can’t believe you just did that. Holy shit, what are you thinking? Maybe this will all work out in your favor. You really had nothing to lose but your dignity, right? A disturbance in the peace to the right of your caught your attention.

“Why the hell are you up so early? We drank last night, that’s an excuse to sleep in, you fuck baffoon.” Her hair was tousled on top of her head, shirt hanging off one shoulder. You turned your phone around, thrusting it towards her face.

“There’s been recent developments on the Stan front.” Her brows raised, face becoming shocked.

“Oh. My. God. Are you fucking serious?” She snatched the phone away from your hand quickly to scroll through the messages. “You gave him your number?” She yelled at you as she stretched across the couch, laying her head in your lap. Your phone buzzed in her hands and her eyes widened to unbelievable proportions. “Bitch, you just got a text from an unsaved number.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You looked at the phone in her hands. “I didn’t think he was actually going to text me, I sent it as a joke! What’s it say?”

“How are we going to figure this out?” You both shared a look, shrieking enthusiastically. “Y/N! Sebastian Stan texted you!” She jumped up and down on your couch, pulling you up with her.

“What do I say back?” You held the phone against your chest, staring expectantly at your best friend. She shook her head at you.

“Nuh-uh girl. This is all you.” She held her hands up in surrender. You looked down at your keyboard, the blinking cursor waiting for instructions.

“Okay, okay, how ‘bout, ‘discuss over coffee?’” You looked at your best friend for approval, still standing on your couch. You sent the message after she nodded. A message bubble popped up, three blinking dots inside.

There’s a coffee shop on 8th street,  just outside of Washington State Park.

wanna meet up around three?

I’ll be there, Y/N.

You turned to your best friend, holding the phone to your chest. “Babes.” She raised her brows, waiting. “I have a fucking date with Sebastian Stan!” You both squealed, excited for what would happen on your date.

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter one // body’s working on empty

summary:��bucky isn’t as receptive to this new life of his as everyone had hoped. he’s cold, sharp-tongued, and closed off. except to the tenant across the hallway from him, who always wears pajamas and bakes a dozen too many of his favorite cookies

warnings: food, nothing too bad this chapter!

word count: 1.5k-ish

author’s note: i thought my marvel phase ended five years ago...here we are again. i haven’t written in awhile so please be kind! title and chapter titles taken from hozier’s ‘work song’.

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

[ NEXT ]

Five minutes into their first session, Bucky decided he was going to make Dr. Raynor’s job as difficult as he possibly could.

It wouldn’t be an impossible task, seeing how this whole ordeal depended on him opening up and talking, two things that he had abandoned decades ago. Her unwavering stare was nothing more than a challenge, these fifty-minute sessions once a week were nothing more than a slight inconvenience to his lackluster day to day routine. He would play along, do whatever exercises she asked, and feign stability until he never had to see her again.

“Since this is our first session together, we’ll take it easy.” She promised with a forced upturn of her lips before whipping out her notebook.

Suddenly, it felt like he was encased in bulletproof glass in Berlin again. He remembered that the last time he had been forced into receiving psychiatric help, it hadn’t exactly gone to plan. His chin fell to his chest, hands wringing together as he thought of any excuse to request a different doctor. 

“Let’s begin.”

It was already getting too hot to wear leather gloves and his heavy jacket. New York’s heatwave was supposed to be the highest on record this year and while kids popped open fire hydrants in the street, Bucky would be settled on the hardwood floor in the back corner of his apartment, waiting.

Waiting for what, he wasn’t quite sure.

It was a fairly nice apartment, newly renovated and practically barren. Government issued and funded, of course, and he had spent the first night pulling the furniture from the walls to the center of the room in search of bugs and cameras. He found thirty-four, destroyed them under a rolling pin, and they hadn’t come to replace them. Message received.

The one thing he really liked about the apartment building were his neighbors. The price tag for a one bedroom was substantial to say the least and only older couples could really afford it. No children, no dogs, no outsiders. The only break from his undisturbed routine would be occasionally helping Mrs. Johnson down the hall carry her groceries as she struggled to get the door unlocked with her brittle hands.

They affectionately called him James and the older women were quick to get a hold of his arms, saying things like “They don’t make them like you anymore, James!”. He swallowed the bile prickling at the back of his throat as he nodded, and they moved on to telling him about their single granddaughters.

It was almost nice, his routine. Almost.

Outside of those small encounters, he spent most of his waking hours jogging in the park and cooking the same three meals. He had his appointment every Wednesday with Dr. Raynor, but that was it. He’d take two trains back to his apartment and wouldn’t emerge again until he needed groceries two days later.

It was when he was returning from one of his biweekly grocery trips, a paper bag settled on his hips, that he spotted you outside his door.

He stilled in the hallway, taking a quick step back to peek around the corner without being spotted. His breath stalled, his ears picking up your soft humming and the crinkle of plastic as you set a bundle of cookies at his doorstep, the only one without a mat. His eyes flicked to the other doors, where identical bags of cookies sat propped up, tied with blood red ribbons.

His shoulders relaxed. No threat.

The bottom of his grocery bag suddenly gave way, fruit rolling in every direction. Bucky fell to his knees, glove clad hands snatching up everything he could reach as quickly as he could manage. You were faster, though, and scooped up a plum that had rolled your way, offering it over as he tried to balance the rest of his groceries in his arms.

“Thanks.” He was quick to sweep past you, hand digging in his pockets for his key.

“James, right? Ms. Robinson downstairs is like, in love with you.”

“Yeah, but, uh-“ Dr. Raynor’s instructions from their last session rang in his head, as much as he tried to tune her out: make connections. “You can call me Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “And Mrs. Robinson is far too good for me.”

“Bucky it is then.” You trailed him down the hallway, “Y/N.”

Bucky tried to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eyes, which was harder to inconspicuously do now that he had gotten a haircut and couldn’t hide his wandering eyes behind long tresses. Young was Bucky’s first thought. much younger than the other renters in the building. Bright was next, followed by much too smiley for a Tuesday morning.

Pretty, he admitted as he turned his back to unlock his door. Maybe in another life he would have lingered in the hall, his so-called effortless charm seeping through as you swooned at the very thought of a date with James Buchanan Barnes. But that life was long gone, and instead he rushed to retreat.

“Oh, don’t forget these.” You swooped down to collect the bundle of cookies you had left at his door, handing them to the hand that wasn’t delicately balancing the pile of groceries he still held against his impossibly broad shoulders. “Oatmeal raisin, super-secret family recipe.”

He was back in the doorway of his ma’s kitchen, watching his little sister balance on a wobbling stool as she struggled to crack and egg with her little fingers. He can so distinctly see the pale green of the cabinets, remember the fight his parents had when she begged for that shade of green while his dad had wanted white. Of course, she won.

“These are your brother’s favorite.” His ma whispered to his sister; her flour covered hands reaching for the age faded index card with their grandmother’s script detailing the ingredients. “Our family’s recipe. One day, you will make these for your children. And your children’s children.”

Rebecca, still so young and with a hatred for smelly boys deep in her bones, giggled at the mere thought as her fingers fished out the bits of eggshell that snuck their way into the bowl. She wiped it away on the spare apron tied twice around her waist, much too big for her. 

Bucky would never see her grow into it. He would be drafted only a few months later.

In the meantime, he would bundle half a dozen of them in a tea towel and split them with Steve on the walk to the movie theater. Steve would begrudgingly admit that Buck’s ma made the best cookies, but his made the best brisket. They’d sneak in through the back door and do it all again the next weekend, until they ran out of weekends together.

“Oatmeal raisin are my favorite.” He admitted, accepting your offering like a stray cat does to the first scrap of food from a stranger.

“I think you’re the only person under the age on one hundred to ever say that.” You teased, backing away to the door adjacent to his, “Anyway, don’t tell me things like that. I’m a stress baker and with finals coming up…” You winced at the image of the dozens of batches you would surely be whipping up in the coming weeks.

“Finals?”

“Law school, one semester left.” You fished your own keys from your back pocket. Bucky barely held in the scoff at the shiny Spider-Man keychain that dangled from your fingers. “You?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t been in school in what feels like…a century.”

“Well, I’m all alone here and as much as I would love to, I can’t eat everything that I bake. So, expect a few dozen muffins and cookies every few days.”

“No arguing from me, doll.”

You both lingered in the small hallway, only a few steps apart, each leaning against your respective doors. Keys in each hand, with no intention of using them any time soon.

“Law school, you said? How do you afford a place like this?” Bucky was sure he was the only recently pardoned fugitive under this room.

“Well, this used to be my grandma’s apartment and it was handed down to me in a maybe no so legal way. If the landlord asks, I’m an eighty-year-old woman who doesn’t know how to work her answering machine.”

He huffed a laugh, mostly because that wasn’t particularly far from how he felt with today’s tech. The flip phone that Dr. Raynor had described as archaic sat heavy in his back pocket with only three names programed into his contacts. Don’t get him started on his television.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

With that, you each stepping into your respective apartments. Bucky stalled at his door for a moment, listening as you locked and dead bolted your door behind you. He sighed, dumping his half-ruined groceries on his barren kitchen island.

The next day, he’d have another appointment with Dr. Raynor. This time when he’d say I’m trying, as he did each week, it wouldn’t be a complete lie. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.

2 New Messages

From: Sam

You coming up this weekend?

Don’t ignore me this time. He’s getting worse, Buck.

[listentothelittlebird]

Photographer!Tim draft :D my first attempt at writing Snapshots of Gotham

Word Count: 4043 Words

(that’s a lot,,)

Enjoy!

Little Timmy genuinely loved photography.

It was something his parents had little to no control over. He always hid his camera away from them, only using it when they were not around.

They were never around, not for long.

His motivation for getting a camera was to photograph Batman and Robin, sure, to get that undeniable proof of their existence. However, to get to that point, Tim had first worked himself up from capturing still objects to buzzing insects and bugs, then finally, the Bat and his Bird.

Even after he became Stalker-Tim, he continued to photograph for fun. Gotham’s skyline was hardly taken from the top of towering buildings, after all, and Tim fondly remembered the first time he had waited on a rooftop to capture a sunrise.

Then Jason had died, and Tim stopped photographing Batman. Then Tim became Robin, started to stand by Batman’s side, and a good photographer was never their own subject.

Tim kept his camera gear away. Film cameras were a dying trade, and when Tim needed photos for evidence and cases, all he had to do was take footage from his suit’s camera. Even if he was Tim Drake-Wayne, nobody looked twice when he fiddled with his phone and “accidentally” took a photo of someone with suspected criminal connections.

Now Tim was Red Robin, and Jason had returned, and Jason was his brother. Many things had changed since then.

Tim and Jason had started patrolling together, recently. It was a simple matter of coordinating their days away from their teams, making sure that at least one person was helping Batman in Gotham, if not more than one. As the years went by and the Bats grew in number, a buddy system had been unanimously formed.

“Hey, Timbo, what’s in this?” Jason held up a small box, old and worn but with a very new and very customised padlock - the Bat kind of padlock that only those who recognised it could pick apart. Whatever was in the chest, it was important enough to warrant such a lock.

Tim looked up from where he was dumping his Gotham gear - he replaced a domino with a cowl that casted a silhouette very similar to the Bat himself, and a cape with a pair of gliding wings that would spread out with a quick flick of a switch.

He found it useful as a makeshift shield, and for the many times he found himself falling from great heights. He always had his grappling hook, of course, but gliding was just that much more exciting for him.

Jason claimed that people had taken to calling him Small Bat, for his bat-ear cowl and smaller stature.

Tim’s eyes fell on the box, and he smiled fondly.

“Oh. That’s my camera box. I used to take photos when I was younger,” Tim explained vaguely.

At Jason’s raised eyebrow, Tim let out a small chuckle. “Open it,” Tim encouraged.

Jason shrugged and, in less than five minutes, had the lock picked and opened. He tossed the lock to the side, flicking the chest open. He blinked.

There was a worn camera case inside, flaking leather that was scratched up from continuous use. Below the camera were developed photos, and rolls of what looked to be unused film. 

“You had a film camera? I thought a techno-geek like you would have a digital one,” Jason commented, setting the chest down and gingerly removing the camera from its casing, squinting at the numerous marks on it. 

The side of the camera was bashed, dented, but the lens was intact. Jason looked back down at the chest’s other contents, realising belatedly that an old model of a Batarang laid on top of the developed photos. It was a model from his time as Robin. 

He sifted through the photos, and his jaw dropped in surprise.

The photos were from the same era as the Batarang - he knew, because he recognised himself as the person pictured in red, green and yellow in the photos. There were also photos of Batman and Nightwing, Nightwing wearing a version of his Gotham uniform with much brighter blue lines, almost neon. 

“Surprised?” Tim’s voice jerked Jason back into his surroundings, his eyes flicking up from the picture to his brother. 

Tim was wearing a smug smirk as he continued, “I used to stalk you guys as a kid. Snuck out of the house at night and found ledges to hide in and wait for the Bats to appear. I figured out your patrol routes, confirmed the Robin myths, heck, I even found out Batman’s secret identity. I held that over B’s head when I forced him to make me Robin - it was one thing to sneak around them, but it was another to know private information.”

Tim had already insisted early on that he was not his Replacement, that he had forced his way into the family, but now Jason felt like he had missed out on a lot of details Tim’s brain had labelled as “unimportant”.

“You rascal,” Jason grinned at his brother, “You managed to hide from Batman before you even got any Bat-training? You even took photos of him, me and Big Bird without us knowing? Dammit, Timbo, you were a Bat before you even became a Bird.”

Tim blushed furiously, but he still managed a smile. The kid was getting better at receiving positive feedback.

“Thanks. I - uh, well, you can keep some of those, if you want. They’re photos of you, after all, and I bet you guys don’t have many pictures like that,” Tim gestured to the chest with his hand, his eyes holding something wistful as he fingered his camera. 

Jason had an idea. He grinned widely, and Tim looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t give me that look, Tim. This’ll work in your favour, trust me!” 

Oh, sure, Tim trusted Jason in life-and-death situations. It was just that he had discovered, between boredom or entertainment, his brother often chose entertainment - in the form of messing with his siblings.

“Let’s make a trade,” Jason grinned, eyes sparkling with that look he got whenever he was about to set off explosives, or prank any one of them, “If you can photograph the brat and Dad during their patrol without them knowing, you’ll be getting free food from me for the next month whenever you want. Bonus points if you get photos of them tripping, or something.”

Tim tilted his head, so much like a bird that Jason wondered whether they all did the same thing, “And what if I get caught? Damian would kill me.” 

Not literally, thank goodness, but Damian would still be incredibly pissed off. He would probably not be allowed to see TItus for the next three months, if Robin found Red Robin taking photos of him from afar. 

Jason shrugged, “Free food, Timbo. Take it or leave it.”

Tim pursed his lips. He was relatively confident in his own stealth, enough that he felt like he actually had a chance in getting a few clear shots of the kid and Bruce. Besides, what with their anonymity in Gotham, there were little to no photographs of the Bats in action when they were younger. He had taken a few of Dick, and many of Jason, but Damian? Not yet…

“Alright,” Tim agreed, because even if he got caught, he could at least develop whatever he already managed to capture, and Damian would have at least something to commemorate his time as Robin. It was important that the kid had something to remember how far he had come, in the future. 

-

Jason burst through the door of Tim’s apartment, no less than thirty minutes after Tim had returned home from a mission with his team.

“Can I help you?” Tim questioned drily, making a mental note to sweep his apartment for the hidden bug that had most definitely informed Jason of his arrival in Gotham. He would either remove it or leave it be, depending on how intrusive the bug was.

“Up and at ‘em, Timbo,” Jason grinned, “We got a camera to buy, and camera film to find. You won’t believe how stupidly rare old camera shops are, nowadays.”

Tim blinked up at his brother, from where he was still slumped over on his couch. He was in a scruffy sweater and track pants, nothing like Tim Drake-Wayne the CEO. It seemed to be the appropriate attire for their excursion, because Jason was dressed in a ratty hoodie and jeans, and the bike he was led out to was Jason’s “civilian” bike, the one he used for normal travel and transport.

“We’re… getting a new camera?” Tim repeated Jason’s earlier statement, trying to conceal his internal excitement by stuffing Jason’s spare helmet on his head. Jason barked out a laugh, his eagerness bleeding through his muffled voice despite his best efforts. “Yeah, Timbo. You hardly use your cash, anyway, so we’ll have no problem getting you the best camera for the job,” Jason chuckled at Tim’s excited twitch, his hands wrapping tightly around his torso as Jason sped onto the road.

They came to a stop at a small corner store along a nondescript street. The store was run by an old man who was happy to show the brothers his products, and more than happy to converse with Tim about “camera shit”, as Jason had so aptly named it.

They spent much longer simply talking to the store owner than actually buying the camera.

“Mr Cameraman mentioned something about a dark room?” Jason questioned, as they sat down in a fast food restaurant a few streets down, Tim having carefully stored his purchases in one of the hidden compartments of Jason’s bike. 

Tim nodded, wrinkling his nose as Jason stuffed his french fries into his milkshake, “Yeah. We need a completely pitch-black room to develop the photos in. Otherwise, the film won’t be able to be used if it’s exposed to light. We’ll need to make our own dark room, given what we’re trying to photograph.”

“That’s step two, then,” Jason declared, pointing at Tim with a milkshake-drenched french fry, and popping it into his mouth, “Make your walk-in closet into a dark room. I don’t get why you have that place if you’re not about to use it for your clothes.”

Tim had a considerably smaller set of drawers for his actual clothing. The walk-in closet only held his business suits. Tim shrugged, because even he himself wondered that some days, but now he was glad for the extra space that could be so easily converted into the room he needed for his - hobby? - to fulfil this bet. 

Tim was trying hard to deny how excited he was to return to something he lost when he became Robin. It felt right, to pick up a camera again after he left the Robin post behind.

-

Tim felt a little ridiculous, wearing his camera strap over his Gotham uniform. At least Jason had not made a big deal out of it, which was a good thing.

He was supposed to be out of Gotham already, so he was officially not on the roster of Gotham vigilantes for that night. Unofficially, Oracle had agreed to ignore him unless the Bats absolutely needed assistance, and had also wished him luck for his endeavour.

“Have fun patrolling alone, RH,” Red Robin smirked at Jason from across the roof. Jason grinned back, flipping his red hood over his head. 

“I’ll see you next time you’re in Gotham, Double R,” Jason stated, because Tim really was leaving Gotham right after his “patrol”, “And I better be the first one you show your photos to!”

“Just as soon as I get them developed,” Red Robin promised, and soon they were grappling away in opposite directions.

It was not difficult to find his little brother and adoptive father.

Robin was crouched on a rooftop, Batman watching with his arms folded in front of him, as the boy tried to coax a stray cat out from behind an air conditioning vent with a handful of treats. Tim raised his camera to his face and began snapping away.

He took other photos, too. Photos of the duo grappling into the night. Their back profiles against the Gotham night sky, the Wayne Enterprises logo in the distance. Batman’s rare smile, directed at Robin, after they apprehended a group of men planning kidnappings.

He returned to his apartment satisfied, despite needing to pack up immediately and leave town to join up with his team on time. His successful night was worth the hours of sacrificed sleep.

-

The next time he was back in Gotham, he first spent time developing his films and recovering from injuries - as much as he could keep up with his meta-human friends, he was still twice as vulnerable - before he called Jason, since he had destroyed his brother’s original bug.

He chose to ignore the man slipping another bug into his door frame as he walked in.

“So, how’d it go?” Jason grinned, “Seeing as I heard nothing from the brat, I’m assuming you succeeded?” 

In response, Tim held up his personal favourite shot - Batman talking to the Commissioner, with Robin looking down on them from a higher rooftop. Tim had to make use of all his old tricks to get that shot lined up.

Jason whistled appreciatively, nudging Tim with a grin, “I hope you got some juicy ones, as well. You’ll need something on hand when the kid discovers the art of blackmail.”

“Oh, I assure you, I’m keeping some of these for myself,” Tim nodded sagely. He then touched his camera softly, lying on its side on his small dining table. Tim hummed thoughtfully, “What are the chances of me catching Dick off-guard?”

“Extra month of free food if you manage that,” Jason quipped. Tim perked up, “Speaking of which…”

“Yeah, yeah, you hungry monster. You should be real glad that I brought my own ingredients. Remind me to stock up your fridge, because I can’t feed you free food without anything to cook, dammit.”

Red Robin managed to photograph Nightwing the night after. Oracle had badgered Tim into sending her a photo of Damian feeding the kitten, which was his ticket to being ignored for another night.

He managed to get the moonlight just right to show the blue accents of Dick’s Gotham costume. He was flipping in one, doing a handstand in another beside an unimpressed Robin, and grinning openly at Batman, who himself had a small but genuine smile.

He then proceeded to attempt stalking the Red Hood himself, despite him knowing about his camera sneaking. 

He caught the Red Hood swinging a kid onto his shoulders, the bubbly child latching onto his red hood and tugging viciously at it. 

After his first “red hood”, just a piece of cloth covering his head and neck, Jason had since received a similarly-coloured hooded. buttonless trench coat of sorts that blended into the blackened bricks of alleyways. It had the leathery consistency of his Red Hood jackets. Personally, Tim thought it made him look like a character from Assassin's Creed.

Jason spoke softly to the kid, and started walking down the street, the child babbling happily as all children tended to do. Tim watched from afar, lowering his camera and simply smiling at the scene, at his brother following a child’s directions back to his home. 

When Jason arrived at the kid’s house, the light was on in the window. Jason set the child down, looking on as he stumbled his way over to the front door. He blended into the nearest shadows as the child banged noisily on the door, calling for his mother at the same time.

The door swung open, and the child was embraced by a teary-eyed woman. The child talked animatedly about Jason, describing his cape and his hood, then turned and startled when Jason was nowhere to be seen. The mother smiled fondly at her child, ushering him in. She turned back to the empty street and spoke, loud and clear, “Thank you for my son.” 

Tim chose not to photograph the man smiling in the shadows as the door closed. 

He did, however, snap a photo of his brother tripping over a stray grappling line at the end of the night.

-

Tim slid onto a couch in the library and waited. Cass came through soon after, having returned from Hong Kong for a short visit. 

Cass regarded him with a soft smile. “Little brother,” she greeted, and Tim grinned, “Hey, Cass.” Tim patted the seat next to him, and Cass flipped herself over the back of the couch and onto the cushion, landing with a soft puff of air. She had learnt that from either Jason or Dick, but Tim bet it was Jason. He liked vaulting over things almost as much as Dick.

“I’m telling you first because I know that you’re the last person I could sneak up on,” Tim explained, Cass tilting her head in both question and acknowledgement, “I’ve been going around with a new camera, getting some photos of everyone out on patrol. Do you mind if I take pictures tonight of you doing your thing? I won’t interrupt you or anything, but I know you’d be able to rat me out if I tried to do this secretly.”

Cass paused in consideration, then nodded happily. “You already tailed the others?” she questioned, and Tim smirked smugly, shoulders set in what Cass would definitely identify as pride, “Yeah, I did. I even managed to get some shots of Damian. I can show you some of those, after patrol.”

Cass smiled, and pecked Tim on the cheek in assent.

Black Bat was harder to keep up with than any of their siblings. She was the best of all the Bats, something even Damian admitted to. When she wanted to hide, she could and would disappear off the face of the earth.

Tonight, however, she was patrolling with Spoiler, and between the only two of the Bats who openly talked to civilians and superheroes as Bat-affiliates, who were the exceptions to Code Bat, they were hardly trying to be sneaky. 

Steph loved Batgirl, and she could do the stealth needed for the role just fine - but sometimes, she preferred striking up conversations beside civilians as opposed to in the shadows, and she loved working with the Birds of Prey as well.

Tim suppressed a chuckle as he watched the two girls drop by a twenty-four hour store for ice cream, this apparently being a routine of sorts. He guessed that from the way the employee startled and lit up at their presence, but was generally unsurprised at their appearance.

He snapped a picture of them eating ice cream against the greying rays of dawn.

Later, when Steph had retired to her house, Cass beckoned Tim out of the shadows. She pointed to his camera, tilting her head, “Show me how to use it?”

Tim showed her where to aim and where to click, and as he cast a glance over the roof’s edge, a soft snap sounded from beside him. Tim turned back to see Cass holding the camera, pointed at him, with a soft smile. She then glided over to him, pulling him back off the edge of the roof, and raised the camera like she was taking a selfie. Tim was sure that the camera caught his small smile. 

-

Tim rode his bike right to the door of Wayne Manor, and proceeded to remove a chest from his bike’s storage box just as Alfred opened the door. His camera was slung across his shoulder like a sash, and the chest was a new one, simple polished wood with a rather obnoxious black bat logo on its side. It was a gag gift from Tam, who was bewildered by how oblivious the greater superhero community was of the Bat’s relations. When questioned, Tim just shrugged, “We all have our own distinct fighting styles. If you stripped us down to our basics, though, we’re all built from the same mould.”

A Robin-shaped mould, at that.

It was thanksgiving dinner. Even Steph was there, her mother taking an extra shift during the holidays. Tim waited until the dishes were cleared and everyone had moved to the sitting room before he pulled out the wooden chest, placing it dramatically on the coffee table at the centre of the room. His siblings were perched on the arm rests of couches and sofas, or just perched on the head rest itself, with only Bruce and Alfred actually occupying the seats like normal people. 

Tim smirked inwardly when he realised Damian had begun copying them, as well.

“What’s this, Timmy?” Dick questioned, swiping the chest off the table in one smooth motion. “Hey, let everyone see - consider this my pre-Christmas gift to all of you,” Tim snatched the chest back, placed it back on the table, and flicked it open, stepping aside and watching the changing expressions on their face, emotions openly expressed in the comfort of their home.

The first photo on the top of the stack was Cass and Steph’s one. It was followed by one of Cass’ selfies, and Tim was definitely smiling in that one.

“Oh, man, when were you spying on us?” Steph’s tone was admonishing, but she was smiling brightly at the rare picture, coupled with its beautiful backdrop.

Jason grinned sharply, meeting Tim’s eye with a raised eyebrow. Tim met him with a mirthful smirk, as the next picture appeared - Jason brooding on a gargoyle, overlooking the city. “Dammit. I didn’t notice you,” he muttered to himself, tilting his head at Tim. Good job, the look said. Tim beamed.

The next photo was one of Dick’s, caught in mid-air with an upside-down smile, halfway through a flip. His big brother pulled him into a tight hug, marveling loudly at the way he had captured him despite the dim lighting of the night.

Last but not least was one of the original photos, the reason he had gone on this photo spree: Robin and Batman, leaping off a building together, along with the photo at the GCPD he had showed Jason early on.

Damian’s eyes widened, then narrowed in his direction. There was no malice, only surprise, and something like acknowledgement of his stealth skills. Bruce smiled warmly, and met Alfred’s eye, who had yet to comment.

“Why don’t you store all these photos somewhere, Alfred? I know you treasured Tim’s photos of us back in the day,” Bruce collected the photos and deposited them back in the small chest, handing it to Alfred’s capable hands.

“Of course, Master Bruce. I only ever get to see each of you with your own teams, and never as a collective,” Alfred’s soft gaze turned towards Tim, “I am glad to see you are picking up old hobbies, Master Timothy. I always wondered what happened to your love for photography.”

Tim shrugged shyly under the curious gazes of his family, “I got busy, I guess,” he shared a smile with Jason, “But the promise of free food was more than a good motivator.”

The chatter of the night continued on, and eventually they fell silent as they watched a movie together. They took shifts for patrols, those who came back settling in for whatever part of the movie they had returned to, swapping with the next shift who reluctantly left the room behind.

It was as the credits rolled that Tim was nudged lightly awake.

“Do you think you could take photos of Titus? I would use my phone, but they’re never of good quality,” Damian whispered, expression hesitant and young, something he rarely saw from the boy. It spoke volumes of how far Damian had come, how much he had grown, to be able to show vulnerability to his least favourite sibling.

Tim smiled, “I used to take photos of some stray dogs on the streets. Getting shots of a well-behaved dog like Titus will be no issue.”

Damian smiled, small but bright, before turning away and mumbling a goodnight. 

They always found themselves sleeping together in the sitting room after movie nights, after all.

[jaeminscoffee]

Zoom || l. jn

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader

Genre- Fluff!

Word count- 1.02k

Warning- It's a little too fluffy..? Does that count as a warning lmao-

Synopsis- Could someone miss you, or admire you so much to a point where they end up answering you for their history question? Yes.

Type- Requested! Thank you for requesting!

@kpopscape

It's funny how no matter how many times Jeno has seen you, he's still left awestruck each time. He's seen you the first thing in the morning, face free of all makeup items, hair messy from the constant tossing and turning, lips slightly parted with cutest of tiny inaudible snores coming out of your mouth. He's seen you when your face would get all puffy mainly because of his pet cat's fur being all around the place alongside your hair. He thought you looked the cutest then. 

Jeno had seen you the first time at the dance practice room at the academy you two attended for minors since your university didn't have art forms as a minoring category. Jeno mentally thanked Haechan the more the days went by for forcing him to enroll into the dance academy as he'd gotten to see you all focused, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, lips drawn into a tight line as sweat trickled down the side of your face. For anyone you'd seem a mess. But to him, you looked absolutely breathtaking. 

He was happy when the lockdown propaganda was released during your vacations due to which you had enough time to get to the talking stage, slowly stepping into best friend stage, and finally to the stage you're in now after Renjun gave him a few 'compliments' regarding his cowardice. Happy even more because you could've gotten all the time in the world to get to know each other better during the lockdown only to be let down when you announced your trip to your hometowns as one of your relatives had fallen severely ill. 

Jeno was far more than devastated when the teacher out of the blue let out an announcement of classes starting online because according to her exact words "University kids are not to be left free for a long duration since that could create free empty spaces for irrelevant thoughts to occupy in their brains" 

So not being able to spend time with you, neither have time to talk to you over phone due to the excessive work the staff had dumped on you had Jeno down pretty bad. 

Which is why when the teacher proposed making it a mandatory to turn on videos during classes after a week or so in into the sessions without any response from the students end, Jeno was way more than excited to a point where even Jaemin, the one everything thought no one could raise his level of enthusiasm, was scared. 

The words coming out of your history professor right into Jeno's ears seemed to be going out the same pace as it entered through the other ear as he stared at his screen, his own camera on but forgotten as he watches you jolt down points into your notes each time Mr. Li spoke with feigned enthusiasm. 

All Jeno had running in his mind were all the things he'd do for you, tell you if you were beside him at this moment. 

He imagined you in his dormitory, walking around with nothing but one of his baby pink hoodies and grey sweats looking tiny and pocket sized. He imagined sneaking up behind you when you cooked for the two of you to calm your startled form by peppering kisses all over your face. He imagined doing a fun activity by the floor of the living room, probably painting or something for it to end up in a mess where you two would be covered in different colors, head to toe. 

Jeno imagined a calm afternoon after all that activity, where you'd be cuddled up by his side with a movie of your preference playing on the television. He imagined turning towards you when the movie credits would start rolling to find you out, asleep and wandering somewhere far in your dreamland.

He imagined smiling at your squished cheek from how your face was pressed by his forearm. He imagined leaning down to place a peck on the tip of your nose, before he'd stand up slow and controlled, making sure you wouldn't get up. 

He imagined carrying you all the way to his room where he'd lay you down in his bed as he stood beside the bed frame watching your chest heave up and down at a comforting pace. He'd imagined being mesmerized by how godly you looked when you're doing nothing at all. 

Maybe it was his fault for not paying attention to Jaemin hysterically spamming messages wanting to let him know that his mic was unmute before blurting out "Beautiful." staring no where other than your face. 

"You'd describe the assassination of Julius Caesar as beautiful, Mr. Lee?" your professor asked with his eyebrows raised, a glare strong enough that if looks could kill through the screen, or in general, Jeno would be long gone. 

"Huh?" Jeno ironically asked, confused as he'd not even known of what was being taught in class. 

"I had asked you to describe the assassination of Julius Caesar, Mr. Lee, you replied beautiful. And for that sole reason, you're going to get an extremely ethereal tardy for attendance." He moved on to another student while Jeno watched through the screens with his mouth ajar, at your shoulders shaking from your snickering and the huge smile his behavior had brought onto your face. 

A smile breaking out on his own features, Jeno blurted out a half hearted apology to the teacher before making sure he muted his mic. He opened chats, wanting to text you when Jaemin beats him to it, opening the texts to read out the previous screams of "You idiot your mic's unmute!!" to the recent text "You are such a lovestruck idiot".

Your smile stayed on the entire class maybe because of how your teacher would pose a question, teasingly to Jeno to shrug it off "No, nevermind, next answer he's about to give would be saying 'the group of senators were godly',"

He'd be ready to get tardies everyday if he'd get to see you smile that wide every day even if it was just through the screens and Jeno was sure of that. 

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 10

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 3800+

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Thor walked up to the gate to your condo to find a couple of guys installing a camera and a gate lock mechanism. “Hello, gentlemen. Who are you, and what are you doing to my sister’s gate?” Thor asked, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Whoa, big guy.” The guy on the ladder held up his hands. “I’m Dave, and he’s Kurt. We’re from X-Con Security Consultants--” he pointed to his shirt with the name stitched on it “--and we’re installing a new security system update for Ms. Hill.”

“The lady asked for an installation, and we do it,” Kurt mentioned with a Russian accent.

“Huh, okay then, as you were, gentlemen.” He nodded, continuing through the gate and going to your front door. 

You were making a batch of your mom’s cookies when you heard an unexpected knock at the door. Setting down your cookie scoop, you wiped your hands clean to answer it. “Hey, Thor. Whatcha doing here? Thought you had a shift today.”

“I do, an overnight shift,” He pointed over his shoulder. “Why are their strange men at your front gate?”

“You’re one to talk, ladies man,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You turned away from the door, allowing him to come in as you returned to the kitchen. “If memory serves me right, you had plenty of strange women over at strange hours of the day.”

“Come on, they were my friends,” Thor reasoned, following you to your kitchen. “I love women, but you know, not in a creepy way.” 

“Fine, if you must know, I mentioned to Maria about updating the front gate’s security system with a code and buzzer mechanism, and she thought it was a good investment for the property. The other tenants thought it was a great idea, too, so we're all going to pitch in and help pay for the upgrades. Plus, it will help me sleep better at night.”

“Oh, so it’s an investment. It’s not because you almost hit Steve with the bat the other day.” You averted your eyes to the cookie dough bowl, chewing on your bottom lip.  “This is what I didn’t want to happen, YN. I knew you would move out, and you wouldn’t feel safe and…”

“I know, Thor,” you interrupted him, your eyes connecting with his. “But, it’s going to take time for me to adjust and feel safe. This new gate code system will just help me sleep better at night because I will know who is here before I let them in.”

Thor nodded, keeping a watchful eye on you. “I understand, but why didn’t you tell me Billy contacted you?”

“I can’t rely on you every time,” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. “I have to learn how to fight my own battles again, and you have to be able to trust me.”

“I DO!” He raised his voice, making you flinch, then he immediately dropped his voice. “It’s Billy I don’t trust, and if he thinks he can hurt you, again, he’s got another thing coming.”

“I know, I know.” You shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“I just want you to know you're not alone here. You have me, Nat, Carol, and everyone else at the station.” He reached out, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You have improved so much since you arrived, and I don't want to see you revert back to your old ways. You have no idea how proud of you I am, and I trust you with whatever you decide to do. I want you to know I’m here for you.” You nodded with a small smile. “On another note, I’m glad you finally talked to someone about Billy.”

“You mean Steve.” You eyed him over, not missing the side grin appearing on his face. “Why did he tell you about what happened?” 

“He was worried about you and thought I should be aware of what occurred,” Thor replied, scratching his head. “When we work these long shifts together, we learn many things about each other; Stories are told, secrets are shared, and we learn to trust one another. Although he never did say why he stopped by that night?”

“He gave me a housewarming present.”

“Is that what they call it these days?” He winked with a carefree smile on his face. 

“Oh my god, STOP.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, throwing a ball of cookie dough at him. He caught it, chuckling and popped it in his mouth.

“You should see your face right now. All flushed and agitated.” He motioned to his face as you covered yours in your hands. “Your hands aren’t stopping that blush color coming through on your face. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you got a sun-burn, but let’s get to the real reason, you have a crush on Steve.”

You removed your hands from your face, staring him down. “Okay, sure…maybe I do. He’s a great guy with a caring personality but…but I’m not ready for a serious relationship.”

“Neither is he, that’s why you two are perfect for one another,” he grinned, making you shake your head. 

_____

Steve startled awake from something crashing to the floor in the communal kitchen. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, and let out a long yawn. The last twelve hours have been a blur from the restaurant fire to a car accident to an ax-throwing competition. It felt like call after call came in with little to no recovery time in between. Steve glanced at his watch as he sat up and pulled on his boots. He sighed, realizing he only got about four hours of sleep, but lack of sleep comes with the territory. He ran his hands through his hair, walking into the kitchen, taking a seat at one of the stools by the island. 

“You’re up early,” Carol commented, sweeping up a broken dish.

“A crashing sound startled me awake,” he smirked, forcing her to roll her eyes.

Carol dumped the remnants of the ceramic dish in the garbage before grabbing two coffee mugs from the cabinet. She poured coffee into each of them and handed one to Steve. Steve nodded to her as a thank you and blew the steam off the top of the hot liquid. “Did you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or oatmeal with some peanut butter to go with your coffee?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh please, don’t act all innocent. I know you’re the one who’s been eating Sam’s peanut butter, not Bucky.” Carol narrowed her eyes at him, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Guilty,” he smirked. “It’s so good, though, especially in oatmeal. I’m still surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Those two share a deep tolerable dislike for each other that even I can’t explain how it works. They get along but don’t get along, but somehow work really well together. It shouldn’t work, but it works. I don’t know; it still baffles me. I’m sure if you confessed, Sam would think you were only covering for Bucky anyways.” She shook her head, and Steve nodded his head in agreement. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from those two,” Steve chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“YN told you, didn’t she?”

“Told me what?”

“I might have overheard you and Thor talking about it, but she told you about Billy the douche?”

“Oh...um...yeah.” He shrugged. “I went to her house after she got a call from said douche, and she almost hit me with a bat.”

“Good,” Carol chirped as Steve snapped his head to her. “Well, not good she almost hit you, but good that he doesn’t have that control over her anymore.”

“I agree.” He stared down at the contents in his mug. “Billy sounds like a real piece of work.”

She hummed in agreement. “I know you’re a good guy, but I want you to know if you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Oh, trust me, I would never hurt her like that, but I’m not ready for a relationship.” 

Carol smirked at his response, remembering you saying this whenever she tried to find you a new man. “What? Don't you like her?”

“No, no, it’s not like that at all. She’s…she’s great. It’s just…” Steve fumbled over his words.

“Oh, he hesitated,” Sam added, taking the stool next to Steve. Steve glanced at him, seeing a huge, gap-tooth smile on his face. “He’s into her.”

“It’s not that I’m not, it’s just that I have been through some things, and I know she has been through some things, very recently. I don’t want to push her if she’s not ready.”

“Well, you’re getting pushed into the friend zone, Steve,” Bucky added, taking the other stool next to him.

“Come on, don't say that...it's just...it's…”

“Called the friend zone,” Sam finished for Steve.

“Okay, fine, then why am I planning on hanging out with her later.”  

“Keyword is hangout as in not a date so…” Bucky dragged on.

“Friend zoned,” Sam and Bucky said in unison.

Steve shakes his head, letting out a big sigh. “You two are unbelievable, but at least you two finally agree on something.” Sam and Bucky both looked at each other with a slight shrug and nod. 

“Who are we speaking about,” Thor asked, patting Steve on the back.

“YN,” Carol smiled, forcing Steve’s eyes to meet hers.

“It’s not what you think. We were…”

“Steve wants to ask her out on a date,” Sam added, getting off the stool and walking over to the cabinet where his peanut butter was.

“Is that right? You--” he gestured to Steve with a slight smirk on his lips “--you want to date my sister.” Thor shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling it up. “I like you, Steve, I do, and out of all these morons, I find you are the most suitable to date her. I think Loki may even approve of you, too, but he may be skeptical of you. He might even mock you upon meeting you, but he means well.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t asking for your permission to do anything.”

“OOOOH, Thor, are you going to let him talk to you like that,” Sam hollered, pulling his peanut butter from the cabinet and unscrewing the lid.

“I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Thor joked with a carefree smile. “Sure you didn’t,” he stated more seriously this time, eyeing Steve over, taking a sip of his coffee.

“GODDAMMIT, BUCKY! Why do you always eat my peanut butter? It wasn’t this empty the last time I opened it,” Sam shouted, giving Bucky a stern look as Carol shot Steve an all-knowing smirk.

_____

You stepped into Jabari Tribe Training Center, hearing the whirls of the jump ropes hitting the mats and the punches hitting the heavy bags. Everything in this gym was nerve-racking to you at first, but now it excited you. This gym was a little more run-down than most and could be unpleasant to some, but you found the dedicated atmosphere inspiring. 

You went to the locker room to get ready for your session, feeling your stomach tingling with nerves. Val had a last-minute schedule change at the station, so she wouldn’t be training you today; instead, she scheduled you with M’Baku, who in the ring was known as the Great Gorilla. You’ve watched him coach a few athletes, and he was intimidating. He stood tall and broad, and he’d always do his signature gorilla bark to get himself or his trainees fired up. He was a scary dude! Val knew your movements and boundaries, but this guy wouldn’t, and you weren’t sure how this session was going to go. 

You grabbed your boxing gloves and walked out to find M’Baku by the ring talking to one of his athletes. “Hey, M’Baku, I’m YN. Val mentioned you would be helping me with my session today.”

He looked at you with a stern glare and nodded to his trainee that they were finished. He looked back at you with a snarl on his lip before a smile broke out across his face. “Yes, you were told right. She told me about where you are, and I will say it’s impressive since you only started a few weeks ago.”

“Oh...um, thanks,” you smiled, feeling a warmth rush to your cheeks.

“Ready?” You nodded. “Okay, we will do some warm-up exercises, hit the heavy bag, ring work, stretch it out, and call it a day. Does that work for you?”

“Sounds great.”

“And if there is something you are not comfortable doing, or you don’t know what something is just ask. I won’t bite...hard.” He let out a deep chuckle, making you crack a smile.

“I will.”

“Let’s get started.”

It was a quick warm-up with some basic stretches, squats, jump ropes, and rowing. There were a few stretches you didn’t know what they were, and M’Baku showed you what to do and explained what muscles it was stretching. He couldn’t stress enough how stretching and warming up helped reduce injury and how it would improve your recovery time. M’Baku was knowledgeable, and you could tell he loved what he did.

Every time you worked on the heavy bag, it intimidated you because it was a constant mind game with yourself. You had to think about every punch you threw, making sure to hit it with your knuckles; otherwise, you could sprain your wrist, or worse, break it. You had to move around the bag with quick feet while throwing jabs, hooks, and uppercut punches. It wasn’t a natural feeling you had with the bag like many others did; this is why you preferred sparring in the ring.

You could feel his eyes watching you as you hit the bag with your straight and hook punches. The bag moved slightly as you switched positions and hit the bag from a different angle. 

“Okay, stop,” M’Baku called out, and you dropped your hands to your side. “I am not getting anything from you. You’re too quiet, stiff. Loosen up, girl, let out a grunt, roar, or better yet, bark. Do the…do the gorilla bark.” He raises his eyebrows at you, and you shake your head. 

“I’m not doing the gorilla bark,” you whizzed with your hands on your hips, taking deep breaths. He stared at you, narrowing his eyes before he started barking. “Still not doing it.” He stepped closer to you, barking louder as he walked circles around you. You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath, and finally let out a bark.

His face broke into a smile, and he nodded. “Thata girl. Now get into it, have fun with it, don’t be so tense, loosen up, and jump around. I’ll demonstrate.” 

He takes his position at the bag, tapping it with his glove before doing a set of punches. It was almost like watching a dance. As it swayed, he would be quick and move and then attack with a series of different shots. He looked so relaxed that it didn’t even seem like he had to think about it. It was like second nature to him. 

“Alright, your turn,” He breathed, looking back at you.

You shake your head. “I got tired just watching you. You make it look so natural and easy.”

“It comes with practice, and it doesn’t help you're scared of the bag.” You nodded, giving him a half shrug. “Don’t be scared. Being scared only makes you feel weaker, so you won’t give it your all. Think of it like--” he paused, thinking “--taking a call at dispatch. If you’re afraid, you’ll overthink the situation and make a mistake. If you’re confident and think fast on your feet, it will lead to a better outcome. The more confident you are with yourself, the stronger you will become. Understand?”

“Yes,” you replied with a nod. “Thank you, I needed to hear that.”

Sparring in the ring was your favorite. It was the chance to learn how your opponent moved and how to throw a hard punch. With Val, you knew how she moved in the ring and could time when to throw a punch. With M’Baku, you didn’t know what to expect.

“We are not going to spare,” M’Baku stated as you both got into the ring. He had punching mitts on, and you had your boxing gloves on. “You’re not ready for this,” he chuckled, motioning to himself as you smirked in his direction. “We will do combo drills with your punching technique, watch your stance, and I'll give you a few pointers. I might even show you a few moves, so when you spare with Val again, she’ll wonder where you learned them.”

“I’m ready.”

You throw a few punches at his mitts. “You’re doing something wrong. Do you know what it is?”

 “Am I lifting my feet?” You heaved, wiping the sweat off your forehead. 

“So you do know,” he smirked, dropping his hands. 

“Val is always on me about that.”

“Do you know why she wants you to keep your feet planted?”

“It keeps me more grounded and gives me better balance. It also helps me hit my opponent harder. If I don’t plant my feet, I will be off-balance making me more vulnerable to my opponent's punches.”

“Good, yes. I’m glad my coaches are teaching their trainees.” He let out a deep chuckle. “Also, remember to breathe as you throw your punches. The worst thing you can do is forget to breathe.” You nodded.

After a few more rounds of drills and a lot of great advice from M’Baku, he ended the session.  You went to the side of the ring to get a drink of water. 

“YN, is there a reason you wanted to learn to box or did you wake up one morning and go, ‘I want to fight.’” He asked with curiosity in his eyes. 

You chuckled. “No, not really. I wanted to try something new for once instead of doing the same boring workouts. A friend of mine mentioned Val’s self-defense class, so I tried it out, and it was fun. Then, I asked her about boxing, I was sort of curious about it, and she offered to train me. Plus, it’s a good workout.”

“It is a great workout,” he chuckled. “Val is a wonderful coach and does a great job teaching that class. I’m glad you gave boxing a chance, and you like it so far.”

“It’s been fun,” you smiled with a nod. “And thanks for coaching me today.”

“Anytime,” he said, waving it off. 

M’Baku's other client showed up, so he told you what stretches to do to cool down and to drink plenty of water. Good hydration leads to better recovery. It was really different working out with M’Baku, but it was a good different. He came off as intimidating and cold, but he was the complete opposite. He was knowledgeable and helpful, and you couldn’t wait for your next session with Val to show her the moves he taught you. 

______

“Anyone have any exciting plans for the evening?” Thor asked, unloading the duffle bags from one of the hatches of the truck.

“Have a drink or two, and fall asleep on the couch,” Val stated, patting him on the back and walking over to restock the ambulance.

“Going to dinner with my girl,” Bucky winked with a smile on his face. 

“When are we finally going to get to meet this woman? I would like to have a conversation with her about what she sees in you.” Sam joked from the ambulance, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself.” Bucky pointed to the door, forcing Sam to get out of the back of the ambulance and see Nat at the door.

“Good one, Bucky, but I’m being serious. When do we get to meet her,” Sam questioned, looking back at him. Bucky shook his head as Nat went over to Bucky and kissed him on the lips.

“Does that clear everything up, boys and girls? Bucky and I are dating.”

Steve smiled at them and got back to work reorganizing the hatches while Thor nodded, giving them a thumbs up.

“How...wait...when did this happen?” Sam narrowed his eyes at them.

“We have been dating for a couple of months now,” Bucky smiled down at Nat beside him.

“Way to go, Buck. Didn’t know you had it in you to handle her,” Val saluted him from the back of the ambulance.

“Nat, what the heck? I thought we shared a common enemy.”

“Sorry, Sam.” She shrugged with a tight smile. 

“And here I thought you two were going to keep it a secret,” Steve hinted. 

“Wait, you knew?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of old news these two.”

“Congratulations, but can everyone get back to work, so we can head home,” Carol redirected everyone, earning mumbled replies. 

______

You laid on the couch, turning a page in your book, when there was a buzzing sound at your front door, signaling someone was at the front gate for you. You got off the couch and looked at the new little monitor installed by the door to see Steve waving at the camera. You smiled, buzzing him in. You quickly glanced down at your worn-out t-shirt that had a few holes in it and decided to run up the stairs to find a sweater to cover it up. You were a hot mess, but you didn’t want to look like a hot mess. He knocked on the door as you came down the stairs to answer it.

“Hey, Steve! What's up?”

“I was in the neighborhood, and Thor told me about the security upgrade, so thought I'd check it out.”

“I didn't know you were into security systems,” you smirked, crossing your arms across your chest, leaning against the door frame.

“Oh yeah,” he huffed out, nodding his head. “I am very tech-savvy; whenever I don’t know something, I just Ask Jeeves.”

“Wait, Ask Jeeves?” You narrowed your eyes and burst out laughing. “That search engine with the Butler?” He nodded with a slight shrug, putting his hands in his front pockets. “That’s still around? Isn’t it ancient!”

“Is it?” He chuckled, his signature smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ve used it since high school, but I think the butler retired because it's called Ask now.”

You shook your head, laughing at his subtleness. You glanced over your shoulder at the blank tv screen and back at Steve, biting your lip. “I was actually gonna watch a movie if you wanted to join me.”

“Ahh--” he shifted back and forth on his heels “--yeah, sounds fun.” You nodded, opening the door and inviting him in.

____

Thanks for reading part 10! Looks like her and Steve are finally having a little date/hangout night?! Do you think Steve is getting friend zoned like Bucky and Sam suspect, or do you think he will finally make a move? Or will it be her? I thought it would be funny to throw in that old search engine, Ask Jeeves, some may remember it, some might not have any idea what it is. But I thought it would be a funny throwback and a joke about Steve's age! It's like using map quest and printing out directions instead of using the GPS these days! 😂😂 And what about Thor showing up and being the supportive brother after finding out what happened. He is definitely trying to be better, and he still has no problem teasing her a little bit! Haha! We also found out who the real peanut butter thief was, thanks to Carol for being the observant one! Haha! And isn’t M’Baku the best!! Anyways, comments, likes, and reblogs always welcome. Thanks again! 

[blocksandbloops]

May I interest you in some fem!hermit!Tommy fluff for you in this trying time?

This is set in an alternative version of @redorich 's hermit!Tommy AU. Diverging from the Dream SMP's raid on Hermitcraft. All you need to know is that family trees are convoluted, Tommy's name is Clementine. She's trans, we love her, she has wings and has adopted Grian as her weird almost twin brother.

After the whole "Dreamon" and "invasion" mess the Dream SMP folk didn't expect to hear much from the hermits besides the ones who attended MCC. They thought that the two servers would just continue to exist, independent of one another. Just drifting through the void mere inches apart but never really touching.

Oh how wrong they were.

The hermits were friendly but they had absolutely underestimated just how friendly.

Apparently, the moment Clementine so much as breathed a word about how much she missed her biological family, Scar -ever the kind and helpful mayor that he was- decided to throw a beach party!

Since Clemmy's extended family was pretty large and they didn't want anyone to feel left out, it was an open invitation to everyone on the Dream SMP as long as they behaved.

That point was driven home when a few people, like Antfrost and his unhealed, dog bitten asscheek, mentioned how upsetting the Hermits was definitely not a good idea.

(Deep down they knew that the reason they were really doing this was because the hermits were worried about them. The Dream SMP was just a bunch of traumatized children according to them. They weren't wrong in that assumption but no one wanted to admit that.)

So, when the day of the beach party finally dawned, they all put on their least threatening outfits and packed up their supplies, (where Tubbo got the surf board nobody wanted to question) and entered the portal just like they had done a few months prior.

A few things were different though, the sun was bright and beaming in the sky, soft puffy white clouds rolled by, only promising gentle shade instead of the dreary air of yesteryear.

The shopping district had been rebuilt from it's smoky ruins and they finally all had time to appreciate the lovingly built shops and roads. It looked so beautiful and vibrant, you could practically feel the fact that summer was in full swing.

The smell of nectar and sea salt drifted through the air, sweetening even the sourest of moods. This is what peace was to the hermits. This was their everyday. They were so lucky and they didn't even realize it.

Some people were taking notes of all the different building styles with bright eyes, hoping to replicate some of it when they got home, others were suddenly hit with a feeling of bitter inadequacy of it compared to their homes. Is this what a world without war could look like?

But, no matter the gloomy musings of the few, they were all here to let go for a day! To celebrate the good times and to kick back for seemingly the first time in forever.

Their welcome party this time simply consisted of one person.

It was a strange sight, seeing the Hermits' admin Xisuma without a mask on, wearing a god awful hawaiian shirt that Keralis had thrown at him with glee the moment he mentioned that he didn't have something to wear, and again, were those, gods forbid crocks?

"'Ello everyone! Wow this is quite the turn up. Scar wished he could be here to greet you all personally, but he's still too busy helping the others preparing for the barbecue, so you're stuck with me for the time being.

Now, if you'll kindly follow me, we set everything up pretty close to here, so we'll be there in a minute."

The walk over to the beach was short, but just as scenic as the rest of the server.

Warm, golden sand, gently lapping waves and lush plant life. The sound of the hermits' laughter and soft music filled the air as the smell of the previously mentioned barbecue proved a welcome distraction from whatever the hell was happening on the far right side of the beach (the ZIT trio built a karaoke machine. It was Zedaph's idea. It was also a horrible idea but they didn't seem to realize that yet.)

As they began to debate a plan of attack, no wait. ... fun? enjoyment? eh whatever.

A tall man jogged up to the group. Some people recognized him as Mumbo Jumbo, that one british guy with the mustache. Others, however, as that semi-scary redstone wizard who managed to create extremely powerful potion launchers during the invasion.

He was dressed just as down to earth as the others, holding a tall glass of lemonade in his hand and wearing a (quite goofy) sunhat he borrowed from Ren.

He was explaining something to X in hushed tones (something or other about a minor fire at the barbecue table?) When he looked past the gathering of guests and out towards the path that they had come from, and screeched.

"GRIAN PLEASE I'M HOLDING LEMONADE DON'T!" X reached over and grabbed the glass from his hands just in time for a cackling, feathered ball of something to crash into Mumbo, knocking him into the water with an audible "oof".

There was wild thrashing as the two tried to orient themselves, Grian somehow climbing onto Mumbo's back.

"CLEMMY! COME HELP ME DROWN MUMBO!" Grian waved towards a cluster of trees to their left, underneath which a small gathering of hermits was enjoying a bit of a reprieve from the sun.

"NOT YOU TOO!" came the mustachioed man's scream of distress.

Clementine, the whole terrifying six feet and three inches of a woman that she was, took off running to the water at full tilt towards the struggling brits.

Mumbo, having already formed a strategy in his head, did a perfect T-pose and feel backwards into the water, bringing down a screaming Grian with him. Clementine did a graceful swan dive into the water (how she executed that shall be left for viewer interpretation) and happily joined the fray, even the distressed calls of Stress behind her because "Gods damn it Clemmy! I spent an hour on your hair! And now it's ruined!" couldn't persuade her to give up on her mission to cause as much friendly chaos as possible.

She climbed out of the water a few minutes later, her hair a mess and a bright smile on her face.

"Techie! Wilby! Tubbo! Thank you guys so much for coming! I'm really glad that you could make it." She hugged them each close, enjoying the comfort of having them all together again.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Techno relaxed his posture, trying not to fidget too much. He was getting better with crowds but it was still a lot.

"You may think he's joking but he literally dragged Quackity all the way to the portal because he was too busy doing his eyeliner and would've made us late." Wilbur snickered when she leaned in to hug him, earnings him one of her patented ear-splitting laughs.

"I got a recording of it!" Tubbo proudly announced, pulling out his video camera

while still holding an arm around her.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! LET ME HAVE SOME DIGNITY MAN!" The aforementioned Mr. Fattest Ass in the cabinet screamed indignantly as soon as he got within hearing range.

"Quackity you never had any dignity. It's too late for that." Techno flicked the duck shapeshifter on the head, earning him even more annoyed rambling which he just chose to ignore.

"Well, I'm glad that that's settled, now, I have some people I'd like for you to meet."

She directed them towards the group sitting in the shade, which consisted of False, (a now soaking wet) Grian, Stess, Mumbo (who also looked like a disgruntled cat that was just given a bath), Iskall and Ren.

Meanwhile Doc and Cleo had a little cornered off area they'd nicknamed the "cool kids club" (it was because around this time the sun got strong enough to actually burn her and Doc just felt slightly iffy about the water, since he was, ya know, half robot.)

Clemmy threw herself down on a blanket in front of a grumbling Stress who set about actually making her hair look presentable.

Niki sat down next to them and began discussing the merits of different styles to put Clemmy's hair into.

Ranboo sheepishly sat down next to Cleo's lawn chair folding all of his gangly limbs under himself.

Wilbur happily plopped himself down next to Ren on a blanket and began to hum along to the other's guitar.

Techno lay dow his cape, deciding that a nap was the best course of action in that moment.

Fundy hesitated for a second before going down to the shore to relax and just put his feet in the water for now.

Philza, the awkward dad that he was, chose to sit down close enough to the girls that he'd be able to hear what they were talking about without intruding.

Tubbo placed his stuff down by Clemmy's feet and ran out to the shore with his surf board in hand.

Going through so many conflicts in such a short amount of time really tires a person out, especially ones as young as the ones from the SMP so getting this afternoon of rest truly helped ease some of the stress given to them by recent events.

(Beach episode pog?)

Of course, this little get together wasn't without it's faults. About two hours in Doc accidentally trampled False's sand castle, who in retaliation teamed up with Cleo to dump water on him while he was relaxing.

This little conflict evolved into a battle to see who could build the biggest and grandest sand castle between "Team Himbo" and "Team Women" (one of those was coined by Clemmy). Puffy and Stress set up a good system of transporting sand from point A to point B, allowing them to move faster. False got placed on detailing duty while Niki brought refreshments for the rest of the team. Alyssa was mostly helping out wherever she could, as Cleo worked her armour stand magic to make their castle feel even more alive.

Clemmy just shouted encouragements and bullied the opposing team.

(The member list of Team Himbo has been redacted to avoid any drama about who might qualify as a himbo in the given circumstances)

Somehow the guys managed to convince Techno to join them, which immediately stacked odds in their favor to which Eret and Iskall, being the non-binary legends they are, decided to side with Team Women, now renamed to "Team Prettier Than You".

Their building contest laated for another hour before X decided to try to stop them (it wasn't because of the time. It was because TFC and Grian started shouting things about structural integrity and adding stone parts to the walls and the contestants actually listened when he decided that it was getting out of hand.)

Then it was time to actually enjoy the barbecue. Techno surprised everyone with how delicious his baked potatoes ended up. Beef also got to flex his skills a little with, as you guessed it, beef.

Tubbo and Tango sadly had to eat further away then everyone because the moment they got within ten feet of the fire something mysteriously combusted.

After that, the ZIT trio busted out the karaoke machine and the night went from good to great.

The old Team Star was dared to sing a rendition of Hermit Gang and everyone younger than 25 felt physical distress during some parts.

The sleepy bois (+Tubbo) sang a cover of "Your new boyfriend" (Techno got surprisingly into it) and then Wilbur swiped Ren's guitar to sing some Taylor Swift songs (accompanied by Tubbo on a synth he seemingly pulled out of nowhere) in that one weird accent he can do which had most people wheezing on the floor from laughter after the first song.

Niki threw down a german cover of Say So by Doja Cat. Grian, Phil and Tommy were unconsciously doing the parrot dancing thing. It was great.

Quackity sang something in spanish and Karl and Sapnap made over exaggerated swooning noises.

Skeppy and Bad did a duet. It was as adorable as it sounds.

Some other people also came on stage, belting out songs in such horridly broken voices that I'll spare you the details. Let's just say, nails scratching chalkboards would sound better.

And that was most of the festivities over with.

The last thing on the agenda? A meteor shower. How did they set it up? Clemmy's weird star child thing. The aforementioned girl was huddled close together with her family as they watched the comets streak across the clear sky (all electronics and artificial lights were shut off for the night) and Melohi played from a jukebox in the corner.

Fundy was laying his head in Dream's lap, the other boy was softly threading his fingers through his almost fiance's orange hair while leaning heavily on George and trying not to let sleep claim him as it had the fox (no one knew how this happened, all they were aware of is that the three had disappeared sometime during the sand castle contest only to reemerge having finally talked things through and come to an agreement that they all seemed happy with).

Ranboo, Niki, Puffy and Eret were collapsed in a happy pile just vibing.

The sleepy bois, who were for once actually sleepy, all wore matching flower crowns braided together by Stress's experienced fingers (and Wilbur's rather clumsy ones). Phil and her had managed to come to an agreement of unofficial joint custody after he witnessed Techno embarrassedly lean down to let her place a crown of golden flowers upon his head and saw his internal beam of pride when she called him "handsome".

The boys never really had a mother he mused, maybe she could teach them kindness where he couldn't.

Another surprise addition to the family was the owner of the third pair of wings in the cuddle pile. Phil didn't expect to end up with any more children at this point in his life, but Grain and Clemmy were practically attached at the hip and it felt wrong to even think about separating them.

He only hoped that those two wouldn't cause too much chaos especially when teamed up with Tubbo.

In the end, everyone drifted off to sleep, one by one they closed their eyes on their most perfect day. Praying for whatever might be out there, that they'll have many more moments just like this.

Well,

almost everyone.

Callahan chuckled as he walked back up to his spot with Alyssa farther away from the others. shutting off his camera after cycling through the pictures he took of everyone looking goofy while sleeping (His favorite is the one where Clemmy was very visibly munching on Techno's hair). He may not use those as blackmail but he sure ass hell was going to tease them about it later. He fell asleep there on that hill, drifting off to comforting rest like the others.

After that? Life moved on.

It was chaotic sure, and not perfect.

But it was theirs. They grew up slowly, learning to be kind to one another, how to grow with one another.

Life wasn't always perfect but hey, they had each other. And in the end? That's all that mattered.

[floralseokjin]

The Zoom Halloween Party

⇢ and beyond timeline (after crystallised)

[saga index] [drabble index]

 kim seokjin x reader // slice of life, humour // 2,556 words  

a/n; thank you to all the anons who gave me ideas for this halloween drabble, it wouldn’t exist without you! 

“I have to say your costumes are pretty lame this year, you guys.”

“We’re having a Halloween party over fucking zoom, forgive us for not going all out.” 

Seokjin bit straight away, unable to help it. He and Namjoon were like cat and mouse at all times, but even you had to admit to being offended by your friend’s dismissal. 

Halloween was finally here, and while you couldn’t celebrate in person together, the marvels of technology were letting you celebrate virtually – although this was more like a Halloween hang out than a Halloween party. 

“I’m just saying,” Namjoon shrugged. “Hoseok went all out for his.” 

You looked over at Hoseok’s screen, watching him smile smugly. You had to admit he made a great Joker, but it was also the year 2020... He and his girlfriend, Nora were like two years behind with the whole Joker and Harley Quinn gimmick, it was old now. 

Seokjin rolled his eyes, willing to argue black and blue. “It’s only good because his mom helped him with the makeup.” 

“Oh shut up, you’re just jealous because me and Hoseok will win best dressed tonight!” Nora scoffed under Hoseok in her own little screen. 

Pouting like a baby, your boyfriend crossed his arms. “I’m not voting for you.” 

“If anything, I should win. I make a mighty fine Batman.” 

Attention back on Namjoon now, you all had to agree. But maybe that was because everyone was feeling sorry for him tonight. He was after all, the only single one amongst you. There was Jin and you, Lina and Jimin, Hoseok and Nora, and even though Sandeul was on his own tonight, he had Jess, who was working the night shift tonight. Two months ago there had also been Namjoon and Hana, but not anymore... Let’s just say Namjoon wasn’t having the best of time lately... Getting dumped during a pandemic wasn’t ideal. So he’d paired with Hobi and Nora tonight in some sort of DC-esque collab. He was definitely winning best dressed tonight, but maybe he’d see it as a pity vote… 

“You’re body looks amazing in that suit, Joon,” you complimented, hearing Lina hum in supportive agreement. 

“Hey!” Seokjin exclaimed, sounding mighty offended as he looked your way. You were smushed together on the couch, the takeout you’d ordered on your laps, but you were pretty full now, a belly full of wine already. 

“The devil and an angel though.” Jimin’s voice sounded awfully judgemental. “Come on guys, so basic.” 

“Well, who the hell did you to come as?” Seokjin was loud. 

“Zombie Jim Halpert and Pam Beesly,” Lina replied as if your boyfriend was dumb. 

“Lame,” Seokjin scoffed. “Half of these guys haven’t even watched The Office.” 

“It’s a way more original idea than yours.”

You scoffed. “Um, this is the epitome of everyone’s sexual fantasy, I’ll have you know.” 

“Whose?!” Lina roared, wrinkling her nose. She and Jimin were also squished together, but on his bed, the camera angle giving you an amazing shot of their chins... Not that you would tell your best friend that, of course. 

“We all know what they’re doing after this then,” Sanduel stated. He was dressed as some character from a game he and Seokjin played (a lot.) Nerds.  

“Stop,” Hoseok whined. “Does that mean you guys fucked as The Addams family couple last year?”

“Of course it does,” Namjoon replied matter-of-factly. 

“Jesus.” 

Ah yes, you two really had out done yourselves last year for Namjoon and Hoseok’s joint Halloween party. Thinking about it maybe your devil and angel costumes were quite lame this year…

“As if you didn’t guess,” Lina laughed. “They were reciting all those weird lines practically dry humping in the kitchen at one point.” 

That was your cue, slamming into action, although as luck would have it you had re-watched The Addams Family two nights ago. You gripped Seokjin’s face, yanking him to look at you. “Seokjin, last night you were unhinged.” You began dramatically. “You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me.” A pause for effect. “Do it again!” 

Seokjin took your hand, in character immediately. He leaned down to kiss your knuckles. “Cara mia.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to purr out mon cher in your best French accent but you were interrupted by Namjoon’s gagging noises. “That’s it, I’m leaving.” 

Seokjin snapped his head around, unamused. “Bye.” 

Everyone laughed… just before Hoseok sighed. “Aw, this makes me so depressed. I miss last year, when things were simpler.” 

“This was the worst year to officially become an adult.” Nora joined in with a whine. 

They were 100% correct. There couldn’t have been a worse year to graduate… The past few months had been so stressful but thankfully you were now in a much more stable place. Granted, you hadn’t been able to start the post-graduate internship you’d bagged right before the pandemic hit yet but eventually it would happen, and in the meantime you still had your retail job – and your savings. 

Seokjin had truly lucked out, although his job at his father’s company had been set in stone since high school. He was working remotely until the end of the year (hopefully), rocking that business on top, casual down bottom fashion that he was so gleefully fond of – think a dress shirt and sweatpants ensemble – but you were so incredibly proud of him for adjusting so well after this shitfest of a year. He was your sexy, serious businessman. 

Your friends hadn’t been as lucky though – well, mainly Hoseok and Namjoon who had recently moved back home with their parents while they job hunted. (That’s why the former and Nora were on separate screens – she still lived close by for work.) Lina hated her new job and Jimin still had a year left at college, so maybe he was better off at the moment... Sanduel and Jess were okay too, and had recently moved in with one another, leaving you and Seokjin to… follow suit… 

It came as a surprise to you both, but it made more sense than the two of you living alone. You’d already grown used to it during those couple of months of lockdown at the start of the year and it felt weird after he’d left... It was a big step, but an easy one once you’d found the most perfect apartment to rent together. (You couldn’t officially live with one another in that shoebox of an old apartment, but it had been sad to leave it – you’d shared so many good times there.) It had only been about six weeks since you’d become official roomies, but you were loving every second of domestic bliss. Despite this crazy year, things were on the up, and you were very happy. 

“Now we’re freshly graduated bums.” Namjoon moaned, knocking back the last of his beer.

Seokjin laughed. “Speak for yourself.” 

“We can’t all have a CEO for a dad,” Namjoon shot. 

“That sounds like a you problem.” 

You pushed at your boyfriend’s shoulder, silently telling him to behave. Where was the sympathy for his heartbroken friend?

“At least you’re not stuck doing online classes.” Jimin piped up. 

“I’d actually kill to be back there,” Namjoon chuckled. “I’m sick of receiving rejection emails.” 

“Don’t give up hope, bro.” Hoseok told him. “I have an interview next week so fingers crossed.” 

Nora squealed. “I hope you get it, babe. You need to get your ass back here. I miss you.” 

You all missed him. And Namjoon. Even if you couldn’t all hang out like you were once able to, it was strange to think they were both living in different cities now. Last year seemed like an eternity ago, all you had were memories and even then they were murky. 

“Guys, please,” Namjoon wailed, forehead hitting the screen as he threw forward dramatically. “One of us is single here.” 

“Sorry.” 

In fact, you all felt the need to apologise, a string of them following for no real reason other than you felt really bad for the guy. You knew he’d find a job soon, that wasn’t the problem really – whatever the company they’d be a fool to turn him down – you were just concerned about his mood. Getting dumped had come out of the blue so he was still adjusting, all while his life turned upside down in other ways too. 

He hadn’t lost all sense of humour though, his trademark smirk growing across his face a few moments later. “So who will end up fucking on camera first?” 

Amongst the groans, Sanduel scoffed. “Probably Mr and Mrs. Devil.” 

“I’m an angel,” you corrected, a glass of wine back in your hand now. “Also, why would we fuck on camera? You guys don’t deserve the show.” 

“God, you’re so drunk,” Lina screeched. She wasn’t exactly sober herself. Beside her Jimin winced at the volume. 

“Of course I’m drunk, Lina, this is the first proper chance I’ve had in months.” Getting drunk alone was pretty miserable, now you had an excuse. 

“So it’s definitely them who’ll start fucking first…” Hoseok muttered. 

Seokjin heard him loud and clear though. He hooked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. “Yeah if we leave randomly you know this angel got horny for some devil dick.” 

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed, pushing at his chest. He just laughed, reaching down to kiss you. 

He did look mighty fine dressed as a devil though. Yeah, the red cape was basic but so were your angel wings and halo, but with his dark hair pushed back above his forehead, two red devil horns visible and his eyeshadow off the scale (your doing), he made a very, very sexy Satan! 

Jimin pulled a face. “You’re actually going to fuck in those costumes, aren’t you?” 

“Of course we are.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what Halloween’s all about.” 

“No, it’s not,” Nora laughed. 

“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised,” Sandeul sighed before shovelling down some candy corn. 

“You know them better than anyone,” Namjoon chuckled. 

“I was the first to know! Sworn to secrecy for weeks!”

“Yeah, and she didn’t tell me for so long,” Lina whined. Even though it was ages ago now you were still pretty sure she was salty about it. 

Hoseok snickered. “It was because she was embarrassed to be fucking him.” 

You scoffed, about to refute his claims but Sanduel had more to say apparently. “And then I had to deal with Jin moping around when she dumped him for that basketball player.” 

“She didn’t dump me,” Seokjin protested. “We won’t together then.” 

“Bro, you were still moping though.” 

“Awh, you guys,” you whined, running your fingers through the hair on the back of Seokjin’s head. “Stop teasing him.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek but he moved, stealing one from your lips instead. 

“Great Deul, you’ve started them off again.” Hoseok moaned. 

“I don’t care anyway. The amount of times I’ve heard them going at it has made me immune.” 

“Sanduel, we’re not that bad!” You complained, leaning forward to place your glass down on the coffee table. 

Seokjin had your back. “As if we haven’t heard you and Jess fuck before.” 

That however was not at all interesting to your friends though. They blatantly ignored it for a more interesting direction of topic.  

“Did you ever catch them?” Jimin asked, sounding weirdly excited. 

“No actually, which is baffling.” 

“You nearly did – multiple times,” Seokjin informed him, which instantly turned Sanduel grey. Not bothered, my ass. 

“Why are you guys so obsessed with our sex life?” You whined loudly. Was theirs that boring? 

“Ooo, let’s play a game!!” Lina exploded suddenly, sitting up, her head now cut off from the screen. “Who’s the freakiest!!!” 

Seokjin turned to you gleefully. “We got this in the bag, babe.” 

In your eyes, the questions were quite tame, so yes, you and Seokjin really were scoring first place left and right. Although you had a hunch Lina was holding back information. As her best friend you knew what she was like and she was being awfully quiet for someone who’d suggested the game… 

“Where’s the weirdest place you’ve ever boned?” Nora asked, six questions in. 

Seokjin didn’t even need a second. “Namjoon’s bedroom.” Your eyes bulged immediately, surprised he’d gone there. 

“What?” Namjoon choked. 

“Sorry, man. It just kinda happened.” Seokjin glanced at you, deeply amused. Poor Namjoon didn’t need more bad news. 

“You guys have fucked in my bedroom?” 

“Well, technically it’s not your bedroom anymore, but yeah,” you shrugged.  

“When?” 

The third degree was real. “A while back.”  

“What the fuck you guys,” he groaned, his face a picture. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Lina couldn’t help but add. 

“You, be quiet!” You warned, although you knew she wouldn’t spill. Your secret was safe with her. 

Namjoon was looking more and more scared by the second. “What the fuck did you guys do in there?” Seokjin just laughed loudly. “Did you at least clean up?” He got no reply. He was deadly serious with his next question. “Did you make Ryan watch?” 

“Namjoon!” Seokjin cried, practically wiping tears from your eyes. Maybe he was more drunk than you… You hadn’t realised. “He’s a stuffed animal.” 

“That plush is all I have now.” 

“Pity, the guy’s recently been dumped. This is bullying,” Hoseok interrupted, sticking up for his friend. 

“It’s not,” your boyfriend insisted. 

“Aw, Namjoon, I’m sorry,” you apologised, feeling guilty now. How could you make it up to him? “When all this is over you can come over and fuck someone in our bedroom.” 

“What,” Seokjin protested. You ignored him. 

“Who though?” Namjoon asked, sounding sad. 

“You’ll meet someone new soon enough.” Lina reassured him. “You’re any girls dream guy.”  

He perked up at that. “You think so?”

“Legit, man,” Jimin joined in. 

“Wait,” Sandeul interrupted, seemingly realising something. “Is the costume roleplay exclusive to Halloween?” 

… Of course the conversation was back on you and Jin…

“Why?” You asked. 

“Because Namjoon had a fancy dress party for his birthday last year…” 

Seokjin shrugged. “Any celebration.” 

Sanduel instantly looked disgusted. “So you guys fucked as The Incredibles couple?” 

You and Seokjin didn’t reply, but your faces said it all. 

Namjoon groaned loudly. “I want to scoop my brain out.” Then he thought of something. “Was it in my bedroom?” 

“Noooo!” 

“Yes.” 

You both replied at the same time and you pushed Seokjin. Now he was just purposely teasing his friend. 

“Who’s lying?” Namjoon demanded, but Sanduel was too busy going through it, distracting you all. 

“The Incredibles is my favourite childhood movie, man, now I feel gross. I can’t watch it ever again because I’ll imagine you two trying to superhero fuck.” 

Your friends were way too dramatic. It wasn’t even a big deal, they were making it out to be way kinkier than it was, and Seokjin wasn’t helping matters. You were literally just having normal sex dressed up. That’s all. 

“This game has taught me I’m best friends with a bunch of vanilla ice creams,” Seokjin tutted. “It’s called having fun. Something you guys can’t seem to do.” 

“You all suck!” You agreed. 

Hm, maybe you were just as guilty as your boyfriend… It was just too damn amusing goading your friends… 

[bqstqnbruin]

Come back to me part 2

It’s been a hot minute since I posted the first one so SORRY.

But here’s part 2, shoutout to the AMAZING @yes-he-mccann​ for reading it and helping me out with this ilysm ♥♥♥

Update! Read the entire series: Part 1 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6  // Part 7

_________________________

The sounds of the bar around you disappeared as you felt yourself getting lost in the arms of the boy that was once yours. There was something different about hugging Mat. Hugging him felt like sitting down in a cozy sweater, with a cup of tea and a good book, watching the snow fall outside of your window while the fire rages on in the fireplace. It was comforting, warm, everything that you wanted to be. It was nothing like hugging Kyle. Hugging him was the cozy sweater, but no tea, no book, no snowfall, or fire. It was like something with Kyle was missing. Wait, no, this was just the alcohol talking. But you really weren’t drunk enough for the alcohol to do much talking. 

“So,” you start, “You have to tell me about playing with the Islanders! I haven’t really been following hockey since you left if we’re being honest.”

“Ah, we’re shitty right now. Too ‘in our heads,’ not enough in the opponents, letting in easy goals, not scoring on easy chances,” he starts rambling, watching the smile grow on your face. You never were really too into hockey, but for some reason, you were the person he loved to talk about it with. And you loved to listen to him. You two could be driving around the middle of nowhere back home, and he would be rambling on and on about the game he had the other day. Nothing could make you happier than sitting there with him and listening to him talk about something he was so passionate about. 

Now that you think about it as he continues to ramble, you couldn’t remember the last time you were that happy with someone than when you would just do nothing with Mat. Sure, you only dated for a short amount of time, but were you happier with him than you were with Kyle, or were you just younger and more naive? 

You end up getting lost thinking about what your life would have been like if you and Mat had stayed together if he hadn’t moved for hockey. Or would you have stayed together despite his move? Would you end up in New York regardless of a job if it meant being here with him? No. No. You were with Kyle. Not only were you with Kyle, but you were also engaged to Kyle. 

“But I’m here with some of the guys, actually. I think you would like them,” he says, gesturing over to two of the boys already making their way over to the stools you two were taking up. “This is Anthony and Kieffer.” 

“Oh, wait, you’re the one Mat met when you guys played for Team Canada, what was it, U19s or something?” you ask the one with curly hair.

“No, actually, that was me,” the other one says, “That one is Kieffer.” 

“Sorry,” you apologize as they take seats on either side of you and Mat. The two of them start bombarding you with questions about your life, almost as if they already knew what to ask you before they even met you.

“So what was Mat like when he was younger?”

“What brought you to New York?”

“Where do you work?”

“Do you like it better here or in Vancouver?”

“Did you come here alone?”

Before you could answer the last one, Anthony groans, starting to mumble something under his breath that you can’t make out while he digs through his pockets. He whips out his phone, handing it to Matthew, “Satan somehow managed to get my number, and I’m not going to deal with it.”

“Let it ring. I don’t have to answer to him,” Mat says, crossing his arms as Tito continues to shove the phone at him.

“No. You are going to answer him. Because Paxton has called me eight times and you’ve only been sitting here for an hour. So answer him,” he insists, almost talking down to Mat.

He slides to answer the phone, holding it to Mat’s ear even if he refuses to hold it himself. “Hello?” Mat finally says, taking the phone from him, “I didn’t even know his name was Paxton,” he says to you three before walking off to somewhere else.

“Should I be worried that you know someone who you equate to Satan?” you ask, looking back and forth between Anthony and Kieffer.

They both roll their eyes, you not able to tell if they were rolling their eyes at the idea of the person they were talking about or at the question you asked.

“His girlfriend is this model and Paxton is her agent,” Kieffer starts to explain, only to be cut off by Anthony. 

“No, Mona and Mat just use each other as arm candy and Paxton harasses Mat into going places with Mona so she ‘can be seen,’” he says, using air quotes around that last part. “If you ask me, they’re no boyfriend and girlfriend than he and I are.” 

“You’re right since you would be boyfriend and boyfriend and the entire team knows that if you were gay that you would probably date Mat, anyway,” Kieffer says, raising his glass to Tito.

The two toast each other in front of your face, you having no idea what they were even talking about. “He’s an attractive man. That jawline? I would only be so lucky,” Anthony says.

“Don’t forget the Disney prince hair.”

“And the eyebrows,” the two joke, watching in awe at the interaction. “But, Y/N, tell us about your fiance?”

“Oh, Mat told you I was engaged?” you ask, trying to remember if you even told them in the first place.

“Uh, no, the rock on your finger did.” 

You look down at your left hand, forgetting that you even had the ring on the first place. Part of you wanted to take it off as your face turned red with embarrassment. You were debating on even wearing the ring out in the first place. “Oh, right. Uh, his name is Kyle, we got together during the last year of high school and we’ve been together since. Mat knows him, too,” you explain, the boys looking at each other instead of you.

Even they could tell something wasn’t quite right as you played with the ring, slipping it up and down your finger as if to take if off altogether. “Well, let’s see him,” Kieffer insists. 

You pull out your phone, trying to think of where your most recent photo with him was. When was the last time you even took a photo together? Your engagement was done privately and in the spur of the moment, you weren’t one to get your picture taken to begin with, and when you wanted to be in a photo, Kyle was almost never there. Finally finding one from back when you were in college, you show the boys. It was the night of your birthday, which one, you couldn’t even remember. Kyle was hugging you from behind, beaming at the camera, while you were looking off to the side, smiling. You don’t even remember what it was that you were looking at, but you know it wasn’t because of Kyle. 

The two boys look between each other and the photo. Something seems off about you and Kyle together. It was almost like he was just a filler in your life, even though they were just looking at a picture of a guy they had never met. They both know what the other was thinking: you looked more comfortable with Mat than you did with Kyle. 

“Mona, I told you, I’m out with the guys right now. I’m not dropped everything to leave them and be with you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, goodnight,” Mat finally comes back, practically throwing the phone at Anthony out of frustration. The vein on his neck was beginning to pop out, something you hadn’t seen in ages since he got thrown out of a game when you were younger for checking a kid when he was tripped and accidentally hit him. “God, I hate talking to her.”

“Dump. Her,” Tito insists. That was becoming his catchphrase, he said it so often.

“Stop. Saying. That.”

“It might not be my place,” you start, “But I’ve known you since we were, what, five? You’ve never been happy around people you can’t figure out how to talk to. If you can’t talk to your girlfriend, then,” you stop, trying to figure out if you should put it as bluntly as Anthony did, “you should probably reevaluate the relationship.” 

The bartender comes up to Mat, asking him if he wanted a refill, “Uh, sure, another beer for the three of us, and a rum and coke for you?” he asks, pointing to you.

“That’s my go-to order, how did you know that?” 

Mat shrugs, the look on his face telling you that he was asking himself the same thing. “It just seems like the kind of drink you would order. You would get a coke every time we would go out for food. And every time you would say something about how you want to stop drinking so much soda because of how much sugar was in it, and that you were eventually going to switch to tea, and then to water, and part of me thinks you never did, knowing you,” the smile returning to his face as he realizes how he knew. 

You probably told Kyle the same thing a hundred times, too. But every time he tries to order a drink for you, he always forgets that even drink soda, and ends up getting you some weird fruity drink on the menu that he always says you’ll enjoy, even though you hate fruity drinks. Why does Mat remember something from so long ago? 

-------

“So, how was your conversation with Mona yesterday”? Tito asks once he and Mat were back in their locker room after practice. 

“She whined, she complained, Paxton left a five and a half minute voice mail that ended with, ‘if you go out without Mona when she tells you she wants to go out, you are no longer her boyfriend.’ I didn’t even know the man’s name until last night and now he’s telling me that he decides that I’m not her boyfriend,” Mat tells him, not really in the mood to explain much more. Somehow, one of Mona’s friends saw Mat with you last night and took a picture of the two of you sitting at the bar, which provoked the phone call to Tito in the first place. No matter how many times he told her you were just a friend from home, she didn’t believe him. Especially once she found an old Instagram photo from when you were together that you never took down with some sappy caption about how much you liked Mat. Apparently, it wasn’t good for Mona’s ‘image’ for her boyfriend to be seen at a bar with another girl, no matter who she was.

“You already know that I’m going to tell you to dump her.” 

“Who, Mona. Yeah, break up with her,” Kieffer comes over and joins the conversation.

“Yep, sure,” Mat says, sarcastically as if he would actually do that right now. Like he told Tito the other day, he’s not going to do that; it’s just for fun right now, even if it was turning into more work than anything. 

“What about Y/N, haven’t you been texting her since she left the bar with her friends?” Tito asks.

“What about her?”

“She’s the wife,” Tito says, as if it were obvious.

“No, she’s Kyle’s fiance.”

“No, remember how I told you to look for your wife? Stop fooling around with Mona? Y/N is your wife.”

Mat rolls his eyes. You were already engaged. The guy uprooted his entire life for you. There was no way that was going to end unless he majorly messed up somehow. “No, she’s not.” 

Kieffer looks at Tito getting giddy at the idea of you and Mat ending up together. “Ok, we can ignore him,” he says, pushing himself between Mat and Tito, “I wouldn’t go as far as saying wife, but there was definitely something there. She was very different talking to you compared to when she was talking to Kyle. Even the photos of them compared to the one we found of you two were worlds apart.” Mat tries to remember them even talking about Kyle. They must have done it when he was talking to Mona, which means they’re seeing something he’s not. 

“Ok, sit down. We’re having a serious conversation and I’m tired from practice,” Kieffer says, pulling Tito and Mat down to the floor with him, the rest of the guys still mulling around them, trying to get in the zone for their game tomorrow night. Another loss would not bode well for anyone, at this point. “Do you love Mona?”

“No,” Mat responds, Tito muttering ‘thank god’ under his breath. It wasn’t even something Mat needed to think about; he knew he didn’t love Mona. 

“Do you see yourself falling in love with her?”

Mat hesitates, even though he already knows the answer, “Probably not.”

“Did you love Y/N?”

“Yeah,” he admits, again without hesitation. Part of him was convinced that you were the only thing he loved beside hockey. 

“Do you still love her?” 

Mat looks between Kieffer and his hands which are suddenly shaking. He remembers falling in love with you; from your laugh to the way you fidget with the hem of your shirt when you’re nervous, how you get lost in the book you’re reading and get absorbed in the world of the story so much so that the world around you almost doesn’t exist, that the two of you have the same favorite ice cream flavor, your favorite pair of shoes growing up was your converse, and how you nearly killed him when he spilled paint on them during art class when you were 10, so he saved up his money to buy you two new pairs in case he got paint on a pair again. But did he ever actually fall out of love with you? 

“I might.”

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

You wake up to the sun shining into your room, Kyle sitting up scrolling through Twitter on his phone, and a cup of coffee already on your bedside table, hopefully, made just the way you liked it. “Good morning, beautiful, Kyle says, pulling you in for a kiss once he realizes you’re away. “I have an idea.” 

“Ideas already?” you ask, taking a sip of the coffee. Way too much sugar, but he had gone through the trouble of making in the first place, so you just had to grin and bear it. 

“Why don’t we go into the city and explore? We finished unpacking everything yesterday so what else were we going to do? We could do Central Park and have a picnic there and be all sappy like you love to be,” he suggests, starting to get out of bed.

You were thankful his back was facing you, since you definitely made a face when he said you loved being sappy. You were pretty against PDA, something he knew pretty well. At most, you would tolerate holding his hand or kissing his cheek, but anything more romantic you never wanted to do. He was trying to do something sweet, though, so it was the thought that counts, right?

“I love that idea,” you tell him, starting to get ready. 

“Oh, you never told me how the other night went when you were out with the girls,” Kyle calls from the bathroom. 

“Uh it was fun,” you call. Do you tell him about Mat now, or not at all? You two had been texting pretty much nonstop since that night. You picked up pretty much where you left off all those years ago, but it was almost like no time had passed at all. 

Kyle doesn’t even give you the chance to say anything else, he just starts talking about god only knows what. You couldn’t even pay attention to him, your mind wandering as Mat sent you another text before he went off to practice. There was nothing going on between you and Mat. But why did you have to tell yourself that in the first place? And why did your heart flutter every time his name popped up on your screen?

You had to admit, Kyle had the right idea. He packed a picnic for you, which you were now unpacking in the middle of Central Park. Around you, families were playing, college students were throwing a frisbee, people were going for runs, there were people lying on the grass reading. New York was such a chaotic city, but you loved it. It was a welcome change of pace from what you had grown up with in Vancouver.

Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your admiration of the people around you. Kyle catches a glimpse of the contact. “Mat Barzal? Like your ex Mat Barzal?” 

“Yeah, I met him at the bar the other night. I thought I told you,” you lie, knowing that you didn’t as you answer his text. You can’t help but smile at what he sent, obviously upsetting Kyle.

“No. You didn’t.” His tone had changed from the cheery one it was in the morning to ice cold. No one would be happy that their fiance was suddenly back in contact with their ex, so you understood why. But it was Mat. You hadn’t seen him in years. 

“He’s just a friend. He’s someone we both know from home, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him everyone once in a while.” 

“Why not invite him out with us tonight?” Kyle suggests, his cheeks red as he looks at his food and not you.

“We were going out tonight?” 

“I mean, yeah, why not. You’re right. He’s a familiar face in a foreign city. It wouldn’t hurt to know someone.” 

“Are you sure?” Kyle’s tone suggested that he wasn’t. None of his body language matched what he said he wanted. He nods, even though he doesn’t want to. You text Mat, asking him to go out with you and Kyle that night. You already knew it was going to be a bad idea. “He said sure,” you tell Kyle once Mat responds.

“Want to hand me the dessert?” Kyle asks.

“Sure,” you say, digging around in the bag, not really knowing what to be looking for. You find a bag of cookies, “These?”

“Yeah.” 

“What kind are they?” you ask him, handing them to him. 

He opens the bag, the smell hitting you immediately. “Your favorite: peanut butter chocolate chip.”

“Kyle, what do you mean?” you squeal, pretty much jumping up from the blanket, “I’m allergic to peanut butter, put those away!” How could he forget something like that?

-------

Mat couldn’t believe when you had texted him inviting him to dinner, especially since he couldn’t stop thinking about taking you out as it was. What shocked him even more was when you told him Kyle was going to be there, too. You told him to meet you at seven, and it was 7:07, him running not too late, but late enough that he was frazzled. 

He finally makes his way to the restaurant, finding you immediately. Something about seeing you calmed his nerves, but seeing you with Kyle made him frantic again. You and Kyle were sitting on separate sides, neither of you talking to each other but looking at your phones instead. As soon as you made eye contact with him, Mat could feel his breath stop. He never did stop loving you, even though he didn’t tell Tito and Kieffer. Seeing you with your fiance did not sit right. All he could do was be your friend. 

“Hi, I’m so sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, slipping into the seat next to you. 

“No, it’s fine,” you say, at the same time as Kyle saying, “I guess with an NHL salary you couldn’t afford a better watch, eh?” 

“Kyle!” you scoff. You knew this was a bad idea, and already, Mat regretted saying yes. 

“It was just a joke,” he shrugs, not looking up from his phone. 

You mouth, ‘I’m sorry’ to Mat, him just shaking it off. He tries to make conversation with Kyle, but with no success. Every time he asked Kyle a question, Kyle responded with a short, one-worded answer. He never looked up from his food or his phone, he didn’t so much as look at you or Mat in the eye during the conversation. At one point, you and Mat just pick up the conversation you were having the entire day. 

“Excuse me, sweetie,” an older couple comes up to your table, “We just wanted to say how cute you and your fiance are,” she motions between you and Mat. You both try to open your mouth to protest, but they leave before you can correct her. 

“Great,” Kyle says, throwing his napkin on the table and getting up to leave. You don’t know if he intended on going home, but frankly, you would rather leave without him. You didn’t feel like having a fight with him in the Uber anyway.

“Shouldn’t you go after him?” Mat asks, shocked that you were even still sitting next to him.

“I don’t really want to,” you admit, staring at your plate of food. “Plus, we invited you out, I’m not going to leave you with the bill.”

He sits there, studying your face. He can see the tears start to form in your eyes, you fidgeting with your ring again, sliding it up and down your finger as if you wanted to take it off right there. “If you stuck me with the bill, I would just Venmo request you for twice what it came out to be,” he jokes, hoping to lighten the mood at least a little.

You laugh, shaking your head at him. “Yeah, we both know with that NHL salary that you can’t even afford a watch.” The two of you sit in silence for a moment, you debating on asking him what you wanted to. Mat wanted to ask you why you were with Kyle in the first place. Why would you be with a guy who acted like that in front of an old friend? Ex or not, you should still be civil. “Do you remember what kind of cookies I liked?” you ask him, praying that he wouldn’t.

But of course, he did. “Store-bought, you love those Keebler chocolate chip ones with the M&M’s. But homemade?” he stops, trying to wrack his brain to remember, “You used to love those sugar cookies that my mom made. Remember with the homemade icing? She told me that when you graduated from high school and from college that she made them for your parties, and that she had to make an extra batch just for you because she knew that you would eat them all yourself.” 

“How do you even remember that?” you ask him, smiling. 

“How could I not? I’m pretty sure those cookies are the only reason you were friends with me in the first place. But she always made sure to scrub the kitchen and everything she used before making them because my sister used to make those peanut butter cookies a lot and she didn’t want to risk you having any sort of allergic reaction.” 

You can’t help but smile, but you can’t look him in the eye. Why were you with Kyle? 

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist 

Part 26  

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 

A/N: Sorry it’s late. Again. Technical difficulties :/ 

Warnings: None 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13, @bihoeofmanyfandoms 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity - Edgar Allan Poe 

Spencer raised an eyebrow as Garcia came into the room with her open laptop in her hands. She immediately placed the grey slab on the desk and began typing rapidly. 

"W-what do you mean? What do you have?" Spencer asked, rushing over towards Garcia's side to see what she intended to show him. 

"I've been keeping track of all the surveillance cameras in the surrounding tri-state area. And get this; just an hour ago, I got this glimpse of a very Peter-y looking guy up in Baltimore on one of their traffic cams. He got out of the city but he's headed back here. His license plate wasn't in his name, but he was driving a black chevy truck. I've put it out on the APB so the police can bring him in if they find that car." Garcia shows, turning the laptop towards Spencer to show him the footage. 

On the screen, sure enough Peter was there in what was a chevy truck and with a baseball cap and a dirty flannel. He seemed to be on the phone. Whoever he was on the phone with obviously got on Peter’s nerves, as over the ten seconds of video where he was in the view of the camera, he yelled into it before tossing it out his window. 

Spencer widened his eyes and began to stumble over his words. "D-do we know if that was a-a disposable?" He asks. Garcia looks up at him and shakes her head. 

"I don't know his true personal number so I can't track and see if it's called any numbers repeatedly." She apologizes. Spencer curses under his breath and rubs his face tiredly. 

"I… I guess I'll have to ask (Y/N) when we get back if her phone records still exist from before she abandoned her old life. Maybe we can check the numbers he used to stalk her with. If any of them have any recent repeated calls we need to bring them in for questioning." Spencer insists, pacing through the room instead of getting anywhere on the geographical profile. 

Garcia nodded. "I'll do the best I can for now Jr. G Man." She says, closing her computer and then clicking her heels as she left the room to get back to her temporary office. Spencer sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took an exhausted sip of the coffee JJ had given him. He watched Garcia go, nothing but sleep weighing on his eyelids.

All he could think of was you. But unfortunately, they had a case. And the case came first. 

But that didn't mean Spencer wouldn't be willing to drop everything he was doing to drop kick Peter onto his ass multiple times if he decided to show himself. 

Spencer grabbed the small box he had of pins and got back to work, hoping sincerely that you were okay back at home. 

It wasn't long after he finished that JJ and Emily came back from investigating the main dump site, and came back to inform him of the new findings. 

"Another body? Where?" He asked, turning his head towards Emily as he picked up another obnoxiously red pin. 

"9 miles from here. It fits the distance, except it was 3 miles more than the normal 6-7. What made him change?" She asked. 

"Maybe someone saw him abduct this girl and he drove farther to prevent this murder being tied to the others?" JJ asked. 

The two women continued talking while Spencer added the pin and began to look over the map. He wasn't really listening. Why was he so distracted? He never usually had this much trouble, especially when you were here. 

His mind was going blank as he looked over the blending blurs of the map. He was developing one of those headaches again. The colors on the map all began to blur together and he couldn't make any of them out. He grunted in frustration and gripped the side of his head from the sudden onslaught of pain. 

"Dammit…" he exhaled as he narrowly placed the box of pins yet again in the marker tray of the map. 

"Hey… you okay there Reid?" Emily asked, her voice changing to express her concern. JJ wasn't too far behind her, her voice soft and motherly. 

"Yeah, you've been kind of out of it since we left." 

Spencer shook his head. "I'm fine, alright? Just… another one of my headaches. Garcia's news didn't really help anything." He grumbled. 

"News? About what?" Emily spoke up, putting her pen against her hand. She adjusted in her seat, as if preparing herself for whatever news Garcia had given him. 

Spencer groaned and rubbed the front of his head, his fingers digging into his scalp. "She said she found traffic surveillance footage of Peter in South Baltimore. He wore a… pretty pathetic disguise? Like… a Yankees cap and a stained flannel hiding some sort of beer company t-shirt. The only letters I could come up with from the exposed fabric were C, D, and B. The B ended up standing for beer when he moved and exposed more of the shirt-" he was pacing now without realizing, and stopped himself once he noticed. 

JJ looked towards Emily for a moment, then back at Spencer waringly. "Do we know for sure where he is?" She asked. "He could be in Quantico by now if this footage isn't too old." JJ warned. 

Spencer’s eyes widened. "No… no, no, no… He… Morgan’s at home. He doesn't know my apartment… she's safe…" he began to rant, more to himself than to the women. 

Emily sighed and stood up. "Reid, I think you need to take a break." 

Spencer looked up from the sudden change, his eyes and pupils as wide as saucers. "What?" He breathed. 

"A break. You know, take a walk. Read a book or 16. Call her maybe." Emily suggested, her shoulders rising with her last one.  

Spencer looked back down to the ground for a moment, finally his nerves deciding to take a break from causing him so much distress. "Maybe… maybe I will…" 

Emily smiles down at him, but unfortunately was a little too soon. 

"But only after we find this unsub. Hotch wouldn't want any of us to slack off. Especially with two of our team members on leave." Spencer insisted. Emily sighed and looked to JJ for help. The blond just shrugged and gave her a smile. One that most definitely said 'Well, we tried.' 

"Well… Good luck then Reid. Don't overwork yourself though, okay? If you do I'm telling (Y/N) myself." Emily teasingly threatens. 

Spencer chuckled. "You wouldn't. She hasn't told me anything regarding overworking myself before." 

JJ grinned. "Doesn't mean she won't." 

○●♡●○ 

A few hours passed and Arthur had to leave. Your mother would be tracking him by cell phone before he knew it, and he didn't want to risk giving your mother anymore 'product' to sell to Peter. You understood, and wished him well as he went off, of course not without Morgan giving him a talk about trying to use a disposable from now on. 

But for now, you were doing the dishes as you listened to Beethoven and tried to distract yourself from Derek's obnoxious snoring. Yes, he had decided to catch up on sleep while he was with you. But you didn't blame him. There wasn't much to do. So you settled on chores while Spencer’s favorite composer played over the speakers of your cracked I-phone (Or Samsung). 

You hummed along with the familiar tune and scrubbed at the ceramic plates Spencer had in the sink. It was a miracle they were even used at all, given the amount of paper plates you had found and had thrown away when you first actually got to sleep in the apartment. It seemed so long ago since he first brought you here. He hardly ever used his flatware and relied on the 'Great value' brand to supply him with things in which to put food on to eat. But thankfully, you had been slowly getting him brought back to the light side of the force. But it was an uphill battle for sure. 

"Why do I have to use them? They're easily breakable, (Y/N). The plates I buy are biodegradable." Spencer had grumbled as you insisted on putting the food you had made on one of his ceramic plates. 

You had playfully rolled your eyes. "Because! You wouldn't have to buy the 'biodegradable stuff' if you used plates you could wash instead. Problem solved." 

Spencer had then replied with a very childish and frustrated stuck out tongue and an annoyed huff that had sent you and your aching insides into a fit of laughter. 

The memory brought a smile to your face, causing you to put the plate down so as to not drop it into the sink from how far you had it held in the air. (If you dropped it, he'd really get after you about the paper plates) 

As you continued to wash the dishes, your mind began to travel back to Spencer. You wondered what he was up to. What he was thinking about. Did he think of you? If he did, did he think of you the way you did him? 

A sigh released itself from your lungs, letting your chest fall. The dance you had invited Spencer to was still in four months. Maybe then would be your next chance to tell him how you felt. But with that long of a wait, you didn't think you could do it. You wanted him to know. Even if you ended up being hurt in the end, you wanted desperately to tell him. Unfortunately, cookies and killers were successful at pushing your opportunities away. 

You finished the last dish; Spencer didn't have any more than 6 dishes in his sink due to it only being the two of you. Derek always washed his dish when it was cleared. You turned the sink off and quickly dried your hands with the dish towel on the oven handle. Once the dishes were all in the dishwasher, you began to wander back into the living room. 

You had done what laundry there was to do and Derek wasn't due to wake up for another 2 hours. He had specifically asked you to wake him up when it was 6:30 pm. So you decided that since you had virtually nothing else to do, you'd take a nap. You'd wake up at the same time you were set to wake up Morgan, and then you'd both be rested. 

You turned off all the lights and closed the curtains for a dimmer light. You then grabbed the blanket Spencer had recently been keeping on the back of the couch and curled up in it. You didn't want to head into Spencer’s room and bother Derek just to borrow one of Spencer’s hoodies. No matter how much you really did want to steal one. 

You settled in on the couch, and closed your eyes, letting your body begin to rest more and more with each inspiration and expiration. 

When 6:30 hit, and Derek had somehow managed to wake himself up without your assistance, he groggily got up to go check on you. 

"Hey, Pretty Girl, what happened with you waking me up, huh?" He asks you, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He expected an answer, but instead heard the sudden movement of fabric and the thud of something hitting the coffee table. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at you, and found you asleep. However, it was not peaceful. 

Your leg kept trembling, almost kicking the coffee table as the rest of you shook in terror. You mumbled incoherent pleas under your breath, causing Morgan to panic. He was afraid this would happen. 

"H-hey, kid," he started, gently putting a hand on your shoulder to slowly get you awake without alarming you. He gently shook you, but you proved to be unwakeable. So he took in a deep breath before he shook you a bit harder, calling your name a little louder. "(Y/N), hey, come on kid it's just a nightmare-" 

You finally woke, heavy breathing and a jolt forward followed by a violent shaking came afterwards. You hated this. Even after having just woke up. You felt terrified. Fear was coursing through you and you had no way out of it. 

You whimpered and curled up in the corner of the couch, unable to calm your racing heart or your uncontrollable breathing that came in harsh sobs. 

Derek felt his eyebrows tilt as he looked at you. "Kid I… " he sighed, looking at you pitifully. You and him both were in the same boat. He had been sleeping more often to escape the look in Peter’s eyes he was reminded of whenever he saw you. But he knew you needed him, that was why he had been cutting back on his sleeping. It wasn't healthy anyways. 

"C-call Spencer…" you whispered softly, hugging your knees. 

Derek raised a confused eyebrow and got a little closer to your reserved form. "What'd you say?" He asked, unsure of what you actually said. 

"P-please…" you spoke up a little louder, taking a deep breath as you began your request. "C-call Reid…" 

Derek didn't know how Spencer was supposed to help, but he didn't want to sit by when you clearly needed the genius. 

He nodded and grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialing Reid's number. He pressed the phone to his ear, whispering pleas for Spencer to pick up the phone. He reached over and gave you the option of holding his hand, to which you thankfully accepted. You squeezed his hand for dear life, just wanting to hear Spencer’s voice and hear him recall one of the many poems he'd read to calm your mind. 

Meanwhile, Spencer was currently standing beside JJ, feeling his phone buzz as Hotch tried to deliver the profile. Spencer had given his expertise already, and just wanted to see who was calling him. He'd already been on high alert in case it was you. And no amount of convincing himself to focus on work was helping. 

"Please have all of your available officers out looking for this unsub, and warn women of his type around the neighborhood and in the kill zone." Hotch began to warn. Spencer’s phone continued to buzz, causing the room to turn their eyes towards him. He blushed softly and flashed Hotch a desperate look. He sighed, but nodded. 

Spencer nodded back in rushed thanks before muttering his apologies and leaving the main room to answer his phone. 

Once outside, he picked up his phone and answered.  

"Sorry, we're in the middle of delivering the profile, so I was a little caught up. How is she?" Spencer asked. 

"Reid, she's… I don't know…" Derek replied, wishing he could hug you and soak up all your pain. He took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. "She just woke up from another nightmare. She told me to call you." 

You look towards Morgan, gesturing to see if you could take the phone. He nodded, still never letting go of your hand. 

"S-spence?" You whispered into the phone. 

"Hey…" he replied calmly. "Are you okay?"  

Instant relief washed over you. Not completely instant and overwhelming, but you suddenly felt a rush feeling of being protected and loved. Even if Spencer didn't know it yet. 

You sniffled. "H-honestly? No. I'm the furthest from okay." You wiped your eyes of incoming tears, exhaling sharply so as to not encourage more sobbing. 

Spencer felt his heart ache from hearing you cry. He wished he were home with you. So it wasn't just you and Derek. Strangely, after that thought, a misplaced thought of jealousy panged his heart. Seriously? This wasn't the time to be jealous of his best friend for getting to spend extra time with the girl he loved who he hadn't gotten enough courage to confess to yet. He supposed he was just worried that when he'd be ready to tell you, you wouldn't feel the same anymore. 

"Is there anything I can do to help? I still have all of Edgar Allan Poe's works memorized if you need me to recite one." He offers. The idea brings a slight, and small smile to your face. 

Derek's face lit up at the arrival of said smile, showing off his own signature one. 

"Please? S-spence I don't want to i-intrude on the c-case but-" you began to ramble and try to explain. 

"Hey, it's okay. Hotch cleared me to come take this call. You're my top priority right now. Not the case, not the profile, you." Spencer assured, smiling genuinely as he even was able to hear your voice. 

You sighed gently, and let your mind relax for a moment. "O-okay… but y-you pick this time." You replied. Spencer replied in kind. 

"Sure, (Y/N/N). He answered. "How about The Raven this time? It's one of his most well known works, and it surprises me you haven't asked me to read it yet." 

You can feel your nerves slowing down and relaxing as you let out a soft giggle. "S-sure. But you know that's because you prefer the obscure ones." 

Spencer rolled his eyes teasingly, as if you could see them. Derek gave you a reassuring look, and you nodded, letting him sit back for a moment as Spencer Reid began to read yet again another poem to you to calm the raging storm of emotions stirred from your nightmares. 

Spencer cleared his throat teasingly before he began, pulling a slight laugh from you. "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping…" 

Just as it was each and every time he did this for you, it calmed every part of you to hear his voice alter somewhat to fix the tone of the poem. To hear the way the words rolled off his tongue even without the poem in his hands. 

You were asleep before he could even finish the poem. But that didn't matter to him. He just finished the poem and sighed to himself. 

"Is she asleep?" Spencer asked softly.  

"Yep. Out like a light." Morgan says, readjusting the blanket over you. 

"Good. Just… call me if she needs anything else. I should be able to answer. If not text Hotch for me." Spencer expressed. 

If only he could be there to see your beautiful face asleep on his couch. Maybe even with your head on his chest. To hold you close. To hear your gentle breathing in and out. 

Derek got to do that. 

Spencer couldn't help the jealousy he felt in his heart. Derek could get any girl he wanted. Even you. But Spencer's heart couldn't help protesting that you were supposed to be his. He wanted you to be his. His life. His love. His Darling. Well...

Only time will tell if that will ever change. 

[catlady5001]

10, 12, 17, 18 for the ask prompts? 👀

hihi wash!! :D

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

I very much enjoy writing all three, but dialogue is my favorite because I love getting into the characters and for me it flows easier than either of the others!

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

ive been LONGING to write a body swap AU just because in general I find them fun, but I haven’t had The idea yet :( soon

17. What fic are you most proud of?

currently it’s my most recent oneshot I am Here (which was part of a collaborated universe (we each wrote one shots set in the same universe) with authoress_Lilly!!), just because I really liked how it turned out overall and writing it flowed so smoothly, so it’s one of my all-time favorites :D

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

okay as a whole I’m really proud of this fic but my goodness this scene:

[The commercial begins as they usually do. Luxury. Power. IceBreakers.

Fifteen seconds in, Todoroki Shouto enters from stage left. He takes a seat on a pink flamingo positioned so that he faces the camera head-on, and he stares at it for another fifteen seconds. Then, he says in the most dull and monotone voice imaginable, "Try IceBreakers Duos. They're just like me; minty on one side and fruity fun on the other."

A hand appears on the right side of the screen, and Todoroki takes the offered case of IceBreakers: Duos. He holds it up to the camera so that his red and white hairstyle aligns with the case and says, still in a monotone, "See? We're exactly the same."

Todoroki then opens the case, holds it to his mouth, and dumps all of the IceBreakers: Duos in. He is staring at the camera the entire time. He simply sits like that for a moment, mouth full of IceBreakers: Duos.

And then he begins to chew.

crunch

crunch

CRUNCH

The video continues like that for another three and a half minutes. Finally, Shouto swallows the last IceBreaker: Duos. He smiles widely, unnaturally, and winks at the camera. "IceBreakers: Duos. Delicious."

The video cuts off. No credits roll. No logo is shown.]

I could Not stop laughing while I wrote this haha

this is a section from my fic HIC Icee which I wrote for a friends birthday, and this is pretty much how the whole fic goes. honestly I just thought it’d be hilarious for Todoroki to eat the mints with like. No regard for how they’re supposed to be eaten lmao