#fingers crossed actual gif makers will do it

[schizo2709]

You were sick and with Cheon Sangwon. You think I didn't know? You relied on Cheon Sangwon but why couldn't you do that with me? Why won't you rely on me? Why must you always manage everything alone? Why won't you tell me things? Why am I the only one doing this? Whenever I see you, I both feel good and want to cry. I feel so much about every little thing. But I'm not happy at all right now.

Love for Love's Sake (2024), episode 7

[hoedamn-eron]

size doesn’t matter

You didn’t think anything bothered Poe Dameron…until he found out about your ex.

Warnings: Like one mention of sex. Mentions of drinking alcohol and being drunk. Was meant to be comedic but took a bit of an angsty turn, so warning for insecure!Poe. No proofread (surprise, surprise) so there are probably mistakes. Word count: 1,056 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

“How big was he?”

“Poe, please – “

“No, seriously, how big was he?”

You sigh, giving him an almost exasperated look. You’re not sure how you got here. No, actually, that’s a lie. You do. You and your friends had been drinking the night before in celebration after a successful mission, with no casualties, and the more you all drank, the more the conversation…turned.

Listen, you’d played Never Have I Ever before, and even Strip Poker. You were no prude; in fact, you were open about your sexuality, you enjoyed sex and you weren’t ashamed of it. So when someone (you couldn’t fully remember who it was, you think it might have been Rose) asked what your biggest ‘non-sexual' turn on was, and you mentioned your ex was a big guy and that was what had drawn you to him in the first place.

Now, obviously, it’s the next day and word got back to Poe. He’s not happy about it, and he’s cornered you by your quarters. Normally you’d take advantage of the fact that you’d found yourself alone with him, but he doesn’t look to be in the mood. You’d been steadily seeing Poe for over a year, and you felt like you were secure in your relationship; he was a great guy, with a heart of gold, and a nice smile. You still flounder around him, because kriff, he was so good looking. He had a line of people falling at his feet any chance they get.

You never expected him to be self-conscious about his height.

“Tell me,” he said, looking at you with that frown on his face, his arms crossing over his chest.

He’d been working out a little more lately, and it was paying off. He looked delectable.

“There is nothing to tell!”

“Other than you get turned on by guys who are ‘big’,” Poe mutters, and you ignore the pang of guilt that settles heavily in your chest.

“Poe - “ you stop yourself, giving a frustrated huff through your nose. You closed your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose as you gather your thoughts. “Does it really matter? I’m not with him, I’m with you.”

“But it turns you on.”

“Oh, Maker,” you say, exasperated, opening your eyes and rolling them up to the ceiling.

“Just tell me how big he was,” Poe said, almost nonchalant. You knew it was a trap.

“Look, it was just an offhand comment after a night of drinking, it didn’t mean anything,” you say, almost desperate now.

“Well if it didn’t mean anything, then you should have no problem telling me.”

You sigh, giving him a pointed look. “He was 6’5.”

“6’5!?” he asks, eyes widening as he looks at you.

Your shoulders sag, and you shake your head. “I told you it wasn’t important to know – “

“Not important to know? He’s a kriffing giant, how do I compete with that?” Poe asked, and you swear he looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown.

The guy can look a First Order officer in the face and shoot down a bunch of TIE fighters, but worries about the height of your ex.

“You don’t need to compete with anyone,” you said. “It’s been well and truly over with him for years, and I’m with you.”

“But you’d prefer me to be taller though, right?”

“I prefer you as you are,” you say, cupping his cheeks and making him look at you. “You are amazing. You are exactly who I want you to be. You’re brave and good looking, and you’re kind, and you make me happy, Poe. Please, for Maker’s sake, I love you.”

Poe looks at you with a sad look on his face. “I sometimes…” He goes quiet, averting his gaze from you, before lifting his hands, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. “I sometimes feel like I’m not good enough for you. That you might want something…more.”

Your heart breaks at his words. Poe was always so confident, and he treated you like royalty, and practically wanted for nothing when it came to him. You hated the thought of him feeling inadequate, or ‘not enough’ for you. He was everything you ever wanted.

“You are enough,” you say sincerely. “You’re more than enough. I wake up every day wondering how I got so lucky to have even met you, never mind being in a relationship with you. You treat me well and respect me, and you…you make me feel all fluttery inside.”

Your cheeks warm at the admission, and Poe gives you a shaky grin.

“All fluttery, huh?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a few moments, dropping your hands from his cheeks.

“Your, uh…your ex not make you feel like that?”

You roll your eyes. “If you must know, he was a nice guy but not right for me. A bit of a trainwreck, but…yeah…” you sigh at him. “Please don’t…don’t compare yourself to him, or anyone else. You are kriffing Poe Dameron, everyone would give an arm and a leg to just be in your presence. And I fell in love with Poe Dameron.”

Poe studies you for a moment before his grin widens. “I am pretty great.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t let your ego get too big, you wouldn’t be able to walk through doors with your big head.”

“Even though I’m shorter, I am the better man.”

“Okay,” you say laughing, stepping away from him.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he says, pulling you back towards him and he wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you to him. “I just worry sometimes. I’m not around much, and I don’t want you to have…wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?”

“I love you too.”

Your irritation from his quip softens into a look of warmth and understanding. You adore this man.

“Let’s go and get some dinner, okay?” you say, pulling away from him and holding your hand out for him to take. “Bet all that worrying all day made you hungry.”

“Funny,” said Poe, heavy on the sarcasm as she takes your hand and you both stroll through the base, in a comfortable silence.

After a while, Poe pipes up with, “Our sex is better though, right?”

You smirk, not bothering to look at him. “Oh yeah, much better.”

“Sweet.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cause of Action 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

As you near the concrete steps of the brick front building, a pair of officers emerge from behind the heavy doors. You wait at the bottom as you watch them descend, curious as to their unexpected appearance. Your eyes flick up the small metal placard beside the entrance; ‘Barber & Associates’. 

You suppose it wasn’t very unlikely to find the police there on a given day, however you didn’t think this office handled criminal cases. At least it didn’t seem like it when you filled out your application. You don’t put much thought into it, you’re an intern. You’re there for the summer to get some cred on your resume.

You’re completely unnoticed as the cops cross the pavement to their cruiser. You hop up the steps, careful not to trip on your heels. You’re not the best on stilts but you wanted to seem professional.

There is no elevator and so you're forced up the winding staircase. You’re out of breath as you reach the top and you stop to collect yourself. You dab away some sweat with the back of your hand and blow out your nerves.

You approach the door propped open along the hallway and peek inside. There are three desk but only two with occupants. You wonder if the empty one is yours. You try not to be presumptuous as you meekly step into the doorframe.

“Um, hi,” you say in the crisp silence, “um, I’m looking for Andrew Barber.”

“Ah, the intern,” the woman mutters and tosses a look at her coworker.

The man lifts the receiver of his phone and hits a button. You wait awkwardly at the threshold. He speaks into the phone, “sir, your intern has arrived.” He hangs up and doesn’t say a word to you. 

You fidget awkwardly and look at the woman as she looks ready to fall asleep on her keyboard. Well, this a very welcoming place. You inch inside, not too far, as you fear you might be reprimanded for intruding.

A door opens and you look over as another man appears. He wears a dark blue suit, tugging at his cuffs as his eyes meet yours. He gives a friendly smile and offers a hand as he crosses towards you.

“You must be…” he says your name.

“Mr. Barber,” you shake his hand. His grip is strong, his skin slightly rough, a warmth radiating from him.

“Nice to have you. Welcome to the office,” he says, “I’m sure you’ve met our law clerks; Marnie and Taylor,” he gestures towards the figures sat at the cubicles. They look over but say nothing. “Sorry about them, police dropped in and it makes the place a little tense. The other partners are at the courthouse so I’ll have to introduce you tomorrow.”

“Ah, okay,” you fold your hands together, “um, thanks. I’m excited to get started.”

“First, the tour,” he says gaily, “this is the office,” he looks around with a grin, “you can claim that desk. Recently vacated. Conveniently, actually.”

“Right,” you go forward and put your bag on top of the barren desk.

“And if you follow me, I’ll show you the kitchen, or break room, what have you.”

“Sure,” you turn back and follow him around the cramped space, “bathroom,” he points to a door as he passes, “and in here, we have a full set-up. Fridge, microwave, toaster oven, coffee maker… do you like hazelnut coffee?”

“Uh, hazelnut?” You sputter in surprise.

“Yeah, I have a few extra pods if you’re interested.”

“Oh, thank you, but uh, no, I’m not a hazelnut person.”

“Really,” he puts his hand on his hip, “hm. I didn’t realise it was such an acquired taste.”

“Is it?” You chuckle nervously.

“Anyway,” he drops his hand and flutters his fingers behind you, “I’ll take you through all the first day paperwork and then you can get settled in.”

“Alright,” you agree and back out of the kitchen, waiting for him to pass before following him. “Can I ask… I guess it’s none of my business, never mind.”

He leads you into his office, standing with his door on the handle as he waits for you to enter, “wondering about the police?”

“A little,” you admit as you scratch your neck.

“They’re asking around. Up and down the block it seems,” he shuts the door and points to the empty chair in front of the desk, “guess someone went missing.”

He goes around and sits in the leather chair, rolling it forward as he picks up a pen.

“Really?” Your brows rise in shock, “oh, that’s horrible.”

“Well, you know, I’ve dealt with a few missing persons cases when I worked for the attorney’s office. Typically if the person isn’t found within the first day, they aren’t… alive,” he hesitates. “Not to be cynical, it’s just the way it is.”

His face drops as he spins the pen between his fingers. He looks suddenly drawn and sniffs, scratching his beard as he leans his elbow against the armrest. He is younger than you expected but still much older than you. His hair is thick and combed neatly, his suit pressed and well-kept, a silver clip on his tie. He is entirely put together.

“It’s sad,” you agree grimly.

“Apparently it was a young woman, much like yourself,” he continues, “so maybe you should be careful. If you want, I can walk you to your car. Or the bus stop.”

“Oh, that’s so nice,” you smile, “I think it’s fine.”

“Can never be too safe,” he points the pen at you, “anyway, the sooner we start, the sooner we’re done.”

He shuffles through some papers on his desk as you sit patiently, squirming as a rolling chill rises up your spine. You think about the faceless girl, the police coming down the steps, the matter-of-fact way Mr. Barber spoke about it. It all seems so…apathetic.

[jake-g-lockley]

Piece of You (The Mandalorian x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: fluff, you might fall in love with Mando if you haven’t already

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Thank you so much for 500 followers!! Wrote this cuz I love this tin can and I kinda just wanna kiss his big, sexy stupid helmet. Also I’m sad rn but the show must go on :’)

Grogu cooed gleefully as he watched the evening light refract from the stone on your wedding ring. He was clearly fascinated by the way the light bounced around the hull of the razor crest. You smile into his wrinkly green head as he grabs your fingers, bouncing happily on your lap.

You were waiting for your husband with bated breath. He was out, bounty hunting again, something you’ve grown used to over the past few years. But today he was late, and he had promised you that he would be back at noon.

Being married to Din Djarin had its own set of hurdles that you had to learn to get past. One of the main things you still haven’t gotten through was your husband’s untimely working schedule. You certainly understood the complications of bounty hunting but the familiar anxiety hits you as you glance up to see the evening sun setting, its departure casting a golden glow over Grogu and you.

As light slowly faded, you got dinner ready for your child and not before long he was sound asleep in your arms, tiny fingers gripping your tunic. A clan of three, Din had whispered with a smile when he had proposed to you. You vowed to care for this kid as your own and you loved him very much knowing that he was just an extension of Din.

You glance outside once more for Din but no sign of him. You sigh and get up, rocking the child slightly and placing him into his cot with a little stuffed Blurrg that you made not too long ago. Just as you placed the stuffed Blurrg down with Grogu, you hear the whoosh of the front entrance and the stomp of big boots. You smile, turning to see your husband, expecting him to remove his helmet and give you his usual kiss but he just walks past you.

You blink as he removes his helmet and sets it on the dining table, trying to figure out what had just occurred. You gather your bearings and glare at him as he walks straight into the refresher without even giving you a glance.

“Di'kut,” you murmur to his retreating figure. Suddenly, you look back at his shiny helmet and an evil thought crosses your mind. You quickly grabbed your reddest lipstick and instantly got to work.

You wiped the helmet clean with a cloth before slathering lipstick on your lips. You kissed every single shiny bit of beskar until it was covered in red smooches. Giggling at your creation, you wiped your lips, setting the helmet down and you quickly walked to your sleeping quarters.

You pretended to be asleep the second you heard the shower turning off. About thirty seconds later, your ears were happy to hear a loud sigh coming from where you had left Din’s helmet. One thing you loved about your husband was that he never overtly reacted to anything and his toned down reactions made any situation funnier than it actually was.

Your lips tried to betray you by curling upwards and you felt like you were fighting with the Maker as you tried to keep it together when you heard Din’s footsteps coming towards you.

“Cyar'ika, what in the world have you done to my helmet” he sighed again.

You kept your back turned to him, still fighting the urge to giggle.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Instantly, you turn to him with a grimace on your face. There your husband was, holding his decorated helmet, a big fluffy towel wrapped around his waist and a look of slight indignation was sewn into his handsome features.

“Ah,” he said as he set the helmet on the bedside as he scanned your face.

“They don’t teach you how to treat your wife as part of your training, Mando?” you pout as he smiles down at you.

He suddenly tackles you, kissing you all over. Wet droplets scattered all over your face as the curls on top of his head shook. You squirm and laugh but Din cages you with his larger frame and you’re trapped.

“I’m sorry baby, I just really needed the shower.” he said, his damp hair soaking your linen shirt as he laid his head into your chest.

You wrap your arms around him and cling to him like your life depended on it. He noticed the pressure in how you held him and he reassuringly brought a hand up to cup your face.

“Hey, I’ll always come back to you. No matter what. I made that promise and I intend to keep my word.” He whispers as he looks up at you.

“Really?” you ask despite knowing what his answer will be.

“Of course.” He said, nuzzling back into your chest.

After a few beats of comfortable silence, you smile.

“You'll have to wear that to work tomorrow.” you said, pettiness lacing your voice. “No buts.”

“Hey-“

“It's just a piece of me with you, you know, for a while until it fades away.” you say, truth edging your voice on.

“I already have a piece of you with me, cyar'ika.” He says, holding your hand and placing it onto his chest, right above where his heart beats. “This here belongs to you, and only you.”

You and him stayed like that for a while, you feeling the weight of his hand against yours and the soft thump of his heart, playing a melody that would only be music to your very own soul. Your other hand finds its way up to cup his jaw, his scraggly beard soft and fluffy under your touch.

You stared lovingly at the man before you. You thought about the first time you saw him without the beskar and the usual combat gear, how he surrendered it all for you, showing his vulnerability in the purest form he could find.

Nevertheless, you had the right to be mad.

“That’s cute, sugar curls, you’re not getting away with this, not even your sweet words can save you now, Mando.” you said, patting his chest.

A dark look passed his eyes, one that would usually be masked by the helmet. You most definitely caught the look and you shrank back slightly, wondering whether you had taken it too far.

“I was just joking, I’ll go clean it-” Din silenced you with a hand to your mouth.

“You wanna show everyone that I’m yours, huh?” He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

You nod, unable to find any coherent words in your brain to comprehend the pressure of his hand on your mouth.

“Only for you then, cyar'ika.” he breathes, kissing the shell of your ear.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m not even going to ask about your beskar decorations today, Mando.” Cara chuckled, trying to keep a straight face. “But if I had to pick out a wild guess, I’m gonna go with angry wife?”

Din nodded and smiled at the thought of your mischiefs. Cara patted his shoulder understandingly as several giggles erupted from the other end of the canteen.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Translations:

Di'kut: idiot

Cyar'ika: sweetheart

[cookies-and-music]

Ghost. - part 20: Directions

My suggestion for this chapter is Born to Die by Lana del Ray, cause I just had to.

Part 1 here - Last part to be published on Tuesday

PAIRING: TVA!LokixOC

TAG LIST: @kats72 ; @mischief2sarawr ; @m3ntally-unstable ; @star-maker-rain-dancer

SUMMARY: Loki meets sombody at the TVA he once knew. Unfortunately she doesn't seem to remember him.

Lydia crouched down, covering her head with her arms, but she didn't feel any impact. She didn't feel anything. Slowly, she opened one eye, and the strong light that hit her was annoying. She straightened up, blinking to adjust to the neon lights, and looked around, recognizing one of the corridors at the TVA.

TVA? Loki!

She still felt the stone she had taken from the tree in her hand. She loosened her grip to check that it was still there. And it was. And so was the TVA. She started running towards O.B.'s office, and the closer she got, the more she heard her colleagues talking.

"She will never give up, you saw what she's become, B-15."

"It's precisely because I've seen her like that that I don't trust her, Mobius. Under different circumstances, I might have gone with her into the unknown, but I won't accompany her to die and I won't let her drag us along."

"No need" Lydia said, opening the door "I did it."

"Did what?" Mobius tilted his head.

Lydia looked at everyone present before smiling.

"I took the heart from the donor" Lydia showed the stone to everyone, holding it between her index finger and thumb. B-15's jaw would have hit the floor if it weren't attached to her, and Victor Timely took a few steps back as if frightened.

"What the hell…" Mobius began but was interrupted.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much, the donor was dying anyway" Lydia slid the stone onto the desk towards O.B., who took it in his hands, adjusting his glasses.

"You really did it" Mobius leaned in to get a better look at the object.

"And it went well" Lydia shrugged, while O.B. began murmuring with Timely and analyzing the stone with various instruments.

"You've completely lost your mind" B-15 shook her head.

"Maybe, but at least I solved the problem."

"Actually, I'd wait to say that" O.B. interrupted, drawing attention. "This thing… has no energy."

"What do you mean?" Lydia tilted her head.

"Well, the heart is supposed to power the tree, like some sort of battery, right?" Lydia exchanged a glance with Mobius, nodding.

"So it should have a charge, a form of energy."

"Faster, O.B." Lydia crossed her arms.

"At first glance, this stone has nothing energetic or magical or anything. It's just a stone" O.B. looked at her almost apologetically for having to give her the news. Lydia laughed bitterly and dug her fingers into her own flesh as much as she could while rolling her eyes from the floor to the ceiling.

"Just a stone." She repeated bitterly. When she had put her hand in the tree, she had felt the energy coming from that thing, but there was only one person in the world who could have created such a deception.

"I can analyze it further to see if there's anything else but…"

"Screw it" she turned, opening the door and leaving "Screw everything" She ran down the corridors, knocking over anyone in her way, reaching the main hall and hurling herself against the glass behind which Yggdrasil hid the Asgardian, punching with all the strength she had in her body.

"Screw you, Loki" she threw another punch. "Do you hear me? Screw you!" She threw a third punch. "Do you want to spend eternity alone? Fine!" Mobius, who had run after her, finally reached her and grabbed her arm, pulling her back and out of the room while Lydia struggled.

"Sorry about that" Mobius smiled at the shocked colleagues. "She's a bit stressed, it'll pass soon."

Lydia continued struggling until she was out of the hall.

--

"Feeling better?"

Mobius had made her sit in the infirmary and left her there to cool down while he went to get her something warm.

Lydia didn't answer, remaining curled up with her chin resting on her knees and her gaze lost.

"I'll take that as a no," Mobius sighed, approaching. He sat on the cot next to her, holding the cup he had brought between his hands.

"I'm really sorry, Lydia, truly. And not just because Loki is my closest friend, but also because I saw your disappointment."

Lydia still didn't respond.

"You tried. You risked your life for him, and that's admirable, but sometimes we have to know when to stop, take the time to mourn and move on."

"I saw him," was all she managed to say.

"What?"

"Loki" Lydia lifted her head slightly "In Asgard. I talked to him."

Mobius took a moment to process.

"And what did he say?"

"That he loves me and that he wants me to move on."

Mobius inhaled.

"You should."

"I can't," Lydia finally turned to look at him "I know he made a choice. I know we should be grateful and do our best to live out the opportunity he gave us. I know all of that."

"But you can't."

"He asked me if I loved him. I said yes, and he left. He chose to live without me. But I never chose to live without him."

"You two are so selfish," Mobius smiled, taking a sip from the cup, forgetting he had brought it for her "and yet you both have no sense of self-preservation."

"How can I move on, knowing he loves me too, that we could have had everything? I can't live in this purgatory where he's alive but we all have to pretend he's dead."

"I understand," Mobius nodded "But if you do love him, the only thing you can do is preserve his legacy. This," he gestured around them "is what we have left of him."

A shrill beep from Mobius's pager interrupted the conversation. Mobius glanced at it quickly.

"It's O.B., want to go see what he says?"

Lydia nodded slightly.

"Let's go," he got off the cot, "and then enough. Starting tomorrow, you'll focus on something else, agreed?"

She smiled slightly and followed him.

--

The last person she expected to find in O.B.'s office was her.

"Sylvie" Lydia said through gritted teeth.

"Princhett" Sylvie replied with equal enthusiasm.

"This isn't your place, what are you doing here?" Lydia crossed her arms.

"I invited her" O.B. interjected "for an Asgardian's perspective."

"Trust me, as soon as this little meeting is over, I'll be as far away from your ugly face as possible."

"Calm down," Mobius intervened. "Both of you. O.B., what have you found out?"

"Well," he adjusted his glasses "as I said before, this stone should work like a battery, but right now it's drained. Upon further investigation, we found small traces of energy inside, of various kinds, or rather, coming from different sources."

"Which, for those without an engineering degree, means?"

O.B. looked at Lydia's blank expression, which somehow made him feel more uncomfortable than when she was angry. He gulped.

"Well, thinking of it as a battery, this is currently drained, but it's possible that it has been recharged multiple times in the past."

"I'm still not following," Mobius put a hand on his hip.

"The heart fills with the power of whoever creates the tree, i.e., it recharges, and then it diffuses it, powering Yggdrasil little by little" Sylvie interjected.

"And how does that help us?" Lydia massaged a temple, too tired to think and her plans never seemed to work.

"Loki could use it this way" Sylvie grabbed the stone and waved it in front of Lydia, "he could inject his power into it and then leave, letting the tree power itself until the battery runs out."

"And when the battery runs out?" Mobius asked.

"We end up like Asgard in 2017" Sylvie turned to him "But that would happen anyway at some point, because nothing is infinite, not even Loki's power."

"Sounds easy" Lydia looked at her skeptically.

"Oh, it's anything but easy. The moment Loki recharges the heart with all his power, he ends up with nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"That he would no longer be a god, neither of mischief nor of time. Goodbye powers, goodbye longevity, goodbye everything. He would just be Loki… and—"

"And he would never agree to that," Lydia sighed, running her hands over her face. Sylvie nodded, and a silent moment passed.

"Well, we'll have to convince him," Mobius clasped his hands in front of him.

"You know it's impossible" Lydia shook her head.

"No, I don't know that, and neither do you."

The group just looked at him as if he were rambling.

"Come on, you can't say Loki has never surprised you" he continued "When he arrived, he was an egotistical megalomaniac, and in the end, he made the greatest sacrifice one could ask of someone."

"So what are you suggesting?" Sylvie crossed her arms.

"To go on. To try. Whatever happens, it will be his choice and it will be free, and whatever it is, we'll have to accept it" he looked at Lydia.

"I don't think he wants to listen to me right now," Lydia sighed.

Mobius smiled, "In fact, I don't think it should be you talking to him."

--

Swimming in space in a heavy suit attached by a cable to the TVA base was probably the most difficult and complicated thing to do. Besides, it was risky, given that the tree emitted a considerable amount of radiation.

Mobius cursed with every step.

After passing the branches that, like brambles, blocked the passage, Mobius found not Loki, but the god of time. Seated on his golden throne, rigid and with a face that seemed to have aged years. He looked at him, and Mobius had the sensation of facing someone else, someone unknown.

"Mobius," the god pronounced his name.

"Should I bow?" Mobius tried to lighten the atmosphere, and the only response he got was a softening of Loki's expression.

"I know why you're here and my answer is no."

"Oh good, since the longer I stay, the more I risk my skin, I'm glad it was quick," Mobius shrugged "Enjoy the rest of eternity" he waved, turning to leave, taking only two steps before stopping, as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"Just one question before I go" he turned back to the god "why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why don't you want to come home?"

"I have no home to return to" Loki clenched his jaw.

"Oh, come on! Why are you always so dramatic?" Mobius laughed "You know that's not true. We are your home, and I know you know it" he shook his head "why don't you give me an honest answer?"

Loki didn't respond.

"Nothing? Then I'll guess," Mobius touched the helmet with one hand, as if he wanted to massage his temple. "Maybe you think you deserve punishment for all the deaths you've caused over time, or maybe you think the only way not to do more damage is to abstain from the world, or maybe you believe that solitude is the only answer because you've been too disappointed by the people you trusted."

"Mobius…" he spoke as if to warn him.

"Maybe all of these things together, or simply, you couldn't face life without being a great god but a mere mortal."

"You know I'm not that shallow."

"So, what is it? What's the reason? Give me a sensible answer and I promise I'll leave." Loki clenched a fist and looked away. Mobius sighed.

"I know you believe there's nothing out here for you, right now. That the god of mischief or time is the only thing you can ever be, but it's not true. You are a skilled analyst, you've proven to be a brilliant scientist, and most importantly, you are a great friend, and that's why I'm here."

Loki looked at him with a softer expression.

"We love you, Loki. We want you in our lives, and knowing that you're just an observer isn't enough for us. We want you to be a part of them."

"And what if it doesn't work?" Loki sighed.

"Know that there's someone at the TVA who doesn't understand the meaning of the verb 'to give up.'"

Loki ran a hand over his eyes, "She'll end up getting herself killed."

"That's why you need to come back, the girl has no sense of self-preservation, she's impulsive like no other, and I can't keep up with her anymore" Mobius took a few steps, placing himself in front of Loki "But know that she's not the only one at the TVA ready to risk everything for you." He placed a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki gave a faint smile, covering Mobius's hand with his own, and Mobius felt terribly relieved at the idea of seeing his friend again and not the self-proclaimed king of timelines.

"So…" Mobius reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out the stone. "Shall we give it a try?"

so... stay tuned for the epilogue, I guess. Don't think many users are reading this fic anymore... anyway, I'm writing and pubilishing for the few who do read it, and myself. As, usual Cheers.

[thrawns-babygirl]

could i request “crosshair walking in on the middle of reader getting off” please? also fem!reader if possible if not no worries❤️

One of my favorite smut tropes anon <3 I'm kinda on the fence with how i feel about this one but I hope you enjoy! As always Likes and Reblogs keep me going.

Rating: E Warnings: Mutual Masturbation, Oral (F!Receiving), Unprotected PiV, creampie Word Count: 1531

Masterlist

You finally got some alone time. Finally, after rotation after rotation you were alone in the Marauder while the Batch went out on a supply run. You know for a fact it was not necessary for each and every member to go, but after being cooped up together for maker knows how long tensions were running high and some time outdoors was exactly what the Batch needed.

You checked the readouts in the cockpit that Tech had asked you to keep and eye on, you counted the rations and sent the numbers over to Echo and Hunter, you even washed a set of everyone’s blacks so they had clean clothes to return to and now you were finally free to relax.

Walking over to your bunk, you start to wonder… what do you actually want to do? It’s been so long since you’ve had some alone time you’re at a bit of a loss for how you want to spend said time.

Gazing around the bunk room you take in each member’s small personal space. Tech’s equations and scribbles on the wall next to his bunk, Wrecker’s unmade bed, Hunter’s trademark bandana is loosely shoved under his pillow and Crosshair’s bunk is perfectly made. You get along well with almost the whole batch, and working with them has been a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy rules and regulations you were used to in your old Venator. The only member that you had a somewhat… tumultuous relationship with was Crosshair.

There was a lot of silence when you first joined, followed by a lot of scathing remarks, followed by playfully teasing remarks, that all cumulated in somewhat flirtatious banter between the two of you. You can’t really say it’s unwelcome banter either, out of the entire Batch, Crosshair is 100% your ‘type’. Witty, snarky, smart, competent and very very handsome.

Your thoughts continue to wander as you gaze over at his bunk, after working with the batch for what almost 100 standard rotations now? You still have never seen what he looks like under his blacks. The other’s have had no issue leaving the refresher in nothing but a towel, or the one unfortunate time Wrecker forgot there was a woman on board and walked out stark naked, but Crosshair? You’ve never even seen his arms let alone his chest or legs, regardless of how much you’d like to.

You look at the chrono and realise no one should be back for at least the next 2 standard hours, more than enough time to let your thoughts run a little wild while you make the most of your ‘alone time’.

You remove the bottoms of your civvies and hop onto your bunk. Closing your eyes, you let your thoughts travel to the stoic sniper and his long fingers, wondering what it would feel like if he was the one rubbing circles over your clit instead of you, how his hands would feel wrapped around your waist as he pounded you into the mattress, what his voice would sound like as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

You slip one finger then a second inside your entrance as your other hand continues rubbing small tight circles on your clit. Small whimpers and moans of his name leave your lips, your minds eye conjuring up lewd scenarios of Crosshair on his knees before you, face buried between your legs telling you how sweet you taste telling you how-

“Am I interrupting something doll?” your eyes open and standing before you with the most self-satisfied smirk you have ever seen is the object of your desires. You close your legs and scramble to get under your blanket.

“C-Cross… I-” you stutter trying to get your breathing under control.

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account, the way you were saying my name was much prettier before” he makes his way over to the bunk directly across from yours. Taking a seat he removes his codpiece and the lower parts of his armour before pulling down his blacks enough to reveal his half hard cock.

He sits there, stroking himself lazily his eyes locked with yours as you slowly remove the blanket covering your lower half. Turning to face him you realise that if he didn’t want you this wouldn’t be happening, so you throw caution to the wind and sit on the bed fully facing him, legs spread putting yourself on display for the man in front of you.

Crosshair lets out a low whistle as he watches you play with your clit with one hand, your other hand reaching up under your shirt to fondle your breasts as you let out a low moan. The hand around his length speeds up as he lets out low grunts and groans, eyes trailing down your body to where your hand was working your own arousal.

“What were you thinking about Mesh’la?” he asks bringing his eyes back up to yours.

“You” you answer simply as you speed up the tight circles on your clit, throwing your head back and letting out another moan.

“I know that princess, I want you to be more specific, what about me?” he stands up off the bunk and walks towards you, still pumping himself as he approaches you.

“Your mouth… and Ah- your cock” you move the hand down from beneath your shirt and bring one finger to your opening before slipping inside your slick walls.

“Kark doll, what about them?” he’s so close to you now, you can see the precum beginning to leak out of the tip of his hard length, hear his stuttering breaths as he watches you.

“I was thinking about you… eating me out… before bending me over and fucking me… making me scream your name” you close your eyes and before you can continue a loud moan erupts from your chest as Crosshair moves your hands away from you, gets to his knees and licks a long stripe up your entrance before circling your clit and letting out a low groan.

“You taste… so sweet Mesh’la…” he mumbles against your heat as he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub and sucks. You threat your fingers through his short hair and pull him closer to you as he continues lapping at your slick entrance. You had already worked yourself up so much that it doesn’t take long for the clone’s talented tongue to rip a powerful orgasm from your body. He doesn’t let up, his mouth working you through your peak until you have to pull him away from your oversensitive body.

“On the bed doll” he grunts as he removes the bottom half of his blacks. You get on all fours as he slides into the bunk behind you, ducking his head so he doesn’t smack it on the bunk above yours. He stays behind you for a moment, simply admiring the mess he had made of you, your slick glistening in the light of the Marauder.

He grabs your hip with one hand, and uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. He rubs his length along your folds a few times before slowly inching himself inside you, letting out a sinful groan at the feeling of your tight heat engulfing him. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust before he starts quickly thrusting into you, settling both of his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Kriff Mesh’la you’re so karking tight- I’m not gonna last long” he pants out at you, the bunk beneath you creaking slightly at his furious pace. You’re reduced to a whimpering mess beneath him, head falling onto your pillow as you moan and whine. This was better than you could have possibly imagined, the head of his cock was reaching that spot inside you that made you cry out, the sounds muffled by your pillows.

He reaches a hand around to tease your already oversensitive clit. The friction on your bundle of nerves combined with the way his length was pounding in and out of you was enough to send you over the edge again your muscles spasming and clenching around him as an almost pornographic moan of his name was ripped from your lungs.

“W-where” he asks as his pace begins to faulter.

“Inside… its safe” he lets out a groan and thrust one, two, three more times before he releases inside of you, cock throbbing as he spurts ropes of hot cum inside your walls.

You’re both quiet for a moment, panting before he slowly pulls out of you, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. You can feel his spend leaking down your thighs as he does before your tired limbs give out and you lay flat on your bunk. He chuckles, placing a toothpick in his mouth.

“Well, I just came back to have a shower before the others came back and used all the hot water… wanna join?” he looks over at you, eyebrow raised.

“Sure” you give him a tired smile, watching as he begins to shed the top half of his armour as he walks towards the refresher.

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@starborncyare

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Requited Love

[Resident Evil: Village] Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Spoilers for the game, angst, mentions of past trauma, death, anxiety.

[A/N]: This was a prompt swap with one of my friends, and I've written one more from this challenge with her for Samantha Giddings, though I don't plan to post it anytime soon. I have a masterlist in my drafts that lists all of the characters I want to write for, but I'd like to post three stories for each of those characters before I upload the masterlist--that way I can figure out which ones I will actually write for, and which ones I won't.

Enjoy!

 “C’mon, Aunt Donna! I’m telling you: if you take her out on a date like that, she’ll have to say yes!” Daniela chirped excitedly from her seat against the armrest of the sofa. Bela elbowed her gently in the arm, scoffing and shaking her head. “Dani, [Y/N] shouldn’t feel pressured to say she feels the same way. She should have every reason to feel comfortable enough to say no if she’s not interested.” She turned to Donna, who had been fidgeting with her fingers. “Of course,” the blonde said in a much softer tone, “I don’t have any doubts that she won’t reciprocate your feelings. I’ve seen just how thrilled and lively she gets whenever your name is even mentioned.” The doll-maker’s head perked up at this, her shoulders tensed as she stared with pure hope behind her veil at the eldest daughter.

Angie jumped up onto the sofa and bounced on top of Bela’s lap. “Really?” She squealed. Bela smirked knowingly at her as she side-glanced at Donna. “Yes, of course.” Daniela leaned forward. “Yeah! She really does love you, Auntie! We’ve all seen it–even Cassandra! Right, Cass?” She turned to her older sister, who was seated at the far end of the couch with her arms crossed, seemingly disinterested. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. It’s sickening to see how oblivious the two of you are around each other,” she retorted. Bela sent her a threatening glare. “Cass, watch it. It’s not their fault they’re too nervous to confess. Rejection is a painful thing to experience.”

The brunette turned to her. “Yeah, I know, but they aren’t going to reject each other. We all know that.” “They don’t know that. Well, Donna knows now, but [Y/N] doesn’t.” She turned to her aunt with a comforting smile. “I can assure you that the love you have for [Y/N] is requited.” Donna smiled softly under her veil, looking to her lap as the three daughters turned to Angie. “Don’t worry,” the small doll spoke while waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll make sure Donna doesn’t chicken out.” Donna turned to her. “Angie,” she scolded as Daniela and Bela chuckled–Cassandra even snickered a bit to herself from the opposite end of the group

The doll-maker sighed and tugged Angie over to sit in her lap. “What if I mess something up?” She voiced softly after a moment. Daniela stood from the armrest and moved to sit next to Donna, squishing herself in between her aunt and Cassandra. “Hey, watch it!” The redhead ignored her and gently grasped one of Donna’s hands. “You won’t ruin anything,” she reassured in an uncharacteristic tone. “Bela and I can even help you set everything up so you can focus on making the food!” The veiled woman looked to Bela, who smiled back at her. “You two would be willing to do that for me?” The blonde nodded. “Of course. Since it’s warm enough outside, we should be able to stay out without much layering.”

Cassandra cleared her throat, prompting everyone to glance over at her. She stared at them expectantly. When she got no answer, she growled and planted her hand flat against her chest. “Am I just supposed to stay here on my own? Do you three really not trust me enough to contribute somehow?” Bela and Daniela looked at each other with confusion. “We thought this kind of stuff annoyed you,” the blonde responded. “It does, but I don’t like being left out of things. I hate it almost as much as I hate all of this cheesy romance shit.” Bela rolled her eyes and Daniela giggled. “I’m not really sure what you could help with. Dani and I can take care of the table and decor pretty quickly on our own.”

Cassandra growled again, but before she could speak and bicker with her sister, Donna turned to her. “Actually, Cassandra, if you’d really like to help, it might be nice for the main part of the meal to be hunted and homemade instead of being bought from the Duke. It would add a more meaningful aspect to it.” Cassandra’s eyes lit up as she smirked. “Say no more. Name the day, and I’ll be there with whatever you need.” She shifted into a swarm of flies and flew up the stairs, leaving her sisters there to finish planning with Donna.

T////////S

[Y/N] giggled as Donna led her over behind the house to the edge of the waterfall. “Donna, where are we going?” The doll-maker had covered the girl’s eyes with her hands so she’d hopefully be surprised by the setup. “Somewhere special, but not far from home. I…” She hesitated, her hands trembling against [Y/N]’s face. The [h/c] girl raised her own hands to cover Donna’s, gently caressing them with the pads of her thumbs. “Hun, just relax. I’m sure I’ll love wherever you take me.” Donna smiled warmly down at her. Her tensed hands slowly relaxed as they continued walking forward, but quickly grew rigid again as they grew closer to her desired spot.

Finally, after a long while of stumbling and trying not to trip each other, the two women came to a stop. [Y/N]’s eyes were still covered, but she was able to hear the rushing water of the nearby cliff flowing down rapidly somewhere far below them. Donna sucked in a deep breath. “I-I really hope you’ll like it,” she whispered, internally slapping herself for stuttering. Even after failing to steel her nerves, Donna managed to remove her hands and drop them down to her sides, where they only remained temporarily before finding each other in front of her torso to pick at one another. [Y/N]’s eyes slowly fluttered open. They quickly widened shortly after as a small gasp slipped past her lips. “Oh, Donna, it’s beautiful!”

Donna sighed in relief, glancing over to take in the view herself. There, a good distance away from the edge of the cliff, stood a suitably sized table with two seats placed opposite of one another. A pastel tablecloth draped itself atop the wooden surface of the table, the edges rippling with the soft breeze. Resting on top of the cloth was a small vase filled with dicentras as the centerpiece, two plates of lasagne, and a small tray of antipasto. Two wine glasses full of Barbaresco positioned themselves beside the plates, the rims of the glass shimmering underneath the moonlight. Even from where she stood, [Y/N] recognized the craftsmanship of the wood used for the table and chairs–Donna had made them quite a while ago, but she never knew why until then.

Donna stepped forward and softly placed her hand on [Y/N]’s shoulder. She squeezed it to gain her attention, prompting the girl to look up at her. “Do you really think it’s beautiful?” [Y/N] beamed brightly at her, turning to her and grabbing her hands. Donna blushed. “Of course I do,” she responded cheerfully. The ravenette sighed softly in relief. “I’m glad.” They stared at each other for a moment, not entirely sure what to say next. Finally, Angie came bounding from the opposite side of the house. “Sit down and eat before the food gets cold,” she yelled while tugging at [Y/N]’s pant leg. “Donna and the mean sister from the Tall Lady’s family spent a lot of time on it! I’ll bite your ankles if you don’t go sit down.” [Y/N] chuckled. “Okay, okay, fine.”

She and Donna walked over. Before [Y/N] had an opportunity to pull her chair out to sit down, Donna rushed over and did it for her. She thanked her with a sheepish grin and watched as the doll-maker forcefully sauntered over to her own seat. Once they were both seated, they picked up their utensils and hesitantly began to eat. [Y/N] hummed once the flavor hit her tongue. She covered her mouth as she spoke. “Oh, wow, this tastes incredible, Donna! And Angie said Cassandra helped with this?” Donna nodded and blushed. “Yes. She helped hunt for the meat in the dish, and Bela and Daniela helped me set the table, chairs, and decor up. They’re, um…they’re actually the ones who encouraged me to do this tonight.” [Y/N] smiled. “They’re all so sweet, even if they don’t like to show it.” Donna nodded in agreement.

She took a shaky breath, unsure of how to even bring up her confession. Her hand trembled as she continued to take small bites. She went to reach for her glass, but decided against it when she noticed just how badly her hand was shaking. She didn’t want to spill the wine on herself and end up embarrassing herself while ruining the moment. ‘How am I supposed to ask her? There has to be a way to bring it up in a smooth manner.’ Panicked, her mind went back to a few weeks prior when she had been discussing the plan with the Dimitrescu sisters.

F////////B

“How do I even go about asking something like that? I don’t want it to be sudden and make it even more awkward than it already will be,” Donna anxiously said aloud, surprisingly not using Angie as her voice. The three sisters all turned to her, each one carrying their own expression: Bela seemed distressed, Cassandra appeared annoyed, and Daniela looked as though she was about to burst with the ideas she had been keeping private about the date. “I don’t want to screw this up–I’m already enough of a screw-up as it is.” The sisters’ expressions all shifted into one of uniformed concern. They sat next to Donna on the bed, Bela and Daniela taking either one of her hands. “Hey, what are you talking about? You’re not a screw-up,” the redhead assured softly. Donna lowered her head in an attempt to hide the tears pricking her one good eye, even though her veil was still covering her face.

“I am. I always have been. I don’t know what [Y/N] even sees in me.” Bela tilted her head as the pad of her thumb brushed over the back of the doll-maker’s hand in a soothing manner. “What makes you think of yourself that way?” Donna sniffled and slipped both hands out of the girls’ grasp, allowing her to bring them up under her veil to wipe her tears and hide her face even further. “I’ve always been able to tell how people think of me,” she started softly. “My parents always favored both of my sisters, and once they passed, they didn’t seem to care enough about me to stay. I remember crying to myself each night–telling myself that, if I had been good enough, maybe they would’ve stayed. Maybe they would’ve loved me more.”

“Oh, Donna, you–” “And then I met Mother Miranda. I thought I could be a perfect daughter, even if I wasn’t fit to be a vessel for Eva. When she told me I was part of the family, even though I wasn’t a perfect fit, it didn’t upset me because I was happy to finally have people I could rely on. But then I read her entries about the experiments she performed on me.” She wiped her face again, her fingernails digging lightly into her scalp. “She…she said I was almost a perfect fit, but she was disappointed to learn that I’m “mentally underdeveloped.””

The three women beside her remained silent, unsure of what to say to comfort her. They listened with disheartened gazes as their aunt began to weep. She curled her legs up onto the bed and clutched them to her chest, allowing her to bury her head in between her knees. “I don’t want [Y/N] to see me as a disappointment,” she finally rasped at length. “She means way too much to me–I can’t lose her like I’ve lost everyone else.” Bela pulled her to lean against her shoulder. “Hey, I may not be able to say anything about what Mother Miranda said about you because that’s out of my control, but I can assure you with all of my heart that [Y/N] loves you. She would do anything for you, yes, but that also means she wouldn’t lie to you about how she feels. If she thought of you in a low manner, you would’ve been able to tell. Has she done anything to make you doubt how she feels?”

Donna stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking back on what Bela had asked her. After a moment, she shook her head. “No, she hasn’t. She actually…does the opposite.” “She does? How so?” “She just–she makes me so happy. She always compliments everything I do, and supports me, and constantly helps out around the house so I have more time to work in the shop. She even,” she chuckled, letting her legs fall back down to hang over the side of the bed again. “She even plays the piano and sings for me while I work so I won’t be alone.” Daniela grinned beside her and gently shook her shoulder. “See? There ya go! Just focus on the positive.”

Donna giggled, and she nodded as she moved to stop leaning against the eldest daughter so she could straighten out her clothes. “I suppose you have a point. I just–I still don’t know how to confess how I feel or ask her.” Cassandra stood and stepped in front of the three, crossing her arms. “Just do it. I don’t see why you’re so anxious about this.” Bela scoffed and stood up as well. “Cass, you need to–” “No, listen to me. I may not understand why people fall in love, but I do know that Aunt Donna and [Y/N] love each other. It’s not a temporary thing–especially for them–so she doesn’t need to worry so much about what could go wrong.” She turned to Donna, who had been listening intently. “She won’t say no, I promise. Just find whatever courage you need and tell her how you feel.”

The doll-maker smiled up at her, though no one could see it, and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you–all three of you.”

They all beamed at her warmly. “Of course,” Daniela responded. “So, how’re you going to confess?” Donna blushed, her shoulders growing tense. “Oh, well…I’m not entirely sure. I know you said I couldn’t–and shouldn’t–use Angie, so I’m having to find a way to rehearse what I want to say for myself.” “And what do you have so far?” “Well…”

E////F////B

Donna cleared her throat, twirling her fork around and moving bits of food across the plate. “So, [Y/N],” she mumbled barely loud enough to hear. [Y/N]’s head perked up at the sound of her name. “Yes?” “I-I, uhm…” She glanced up at the girl across the table and blushed once they made eye contact, quickly averting her gaze and staring down at her lap. She looked over to find Angie giving her a thumbs up from several feet behind the [h/c] girl. With a shaky breath, Donna’s hands dropped down to pick at themselves underneath the table. She felt her heart hammering against her ribs, silently wondering if [Y/N] could hear it as well, and she found it hard to breathe properly. She whispered a few words of encouragement to herself under her breath.

Finally, she looked back up, though she couldn’t maintain eye contact, and she felt her arm jerking its way slowly above the table. Her palm presented itself face up–a silent plea for [Y/N] to hold her hand, which she did happily. Donna felt herself sigh. Holding [Y/N]’s hand always calmed her down–she truly felt at peace with her. “Can I be honest with you about something?” [Y/N] squeezed her hand softly, a small smile painting her lips.

“Of course you can. What is it?” Her calm tone felt welcoming–like it had no judgment behind it. Donna cleared her throat again. It felt too soon into the evening to be confessing like this, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She had to know if [Y/N] felt the same. “It’s about why I brought you here tonight. I wanted it to be special because what I need to tell you is…very personal. It’s important to me.” “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me this then.” Donna chuckled, mindlessly rubbing her face with her free hand as she felt her face heating up even more.

“I have more than trust for you, [Y/N], believe me.” [Y/N] tilted her head, suddenly growing anxious. “Is something wrong?” “No, no, nothing is wrong. I just–” She finally looked her in the eye. “You mean the world to me [Y/N]. You’ve made my life so much better from the moment you arrived. You always know what to say and do to make me feel happy. You make sure I eat enough throughout the day, that I take plenty of breaks, that I get plenty of rest. You always help with the cleaning and cooking, so I have even more time to work on my projects, but you still manage to sit in the room with me to keep me company. I’ve never felt so…loved and important to someone. I truly hope you feel the same way about me.”

[Y/N] was awestruck. Her blush was evident as she responded. “I do, Donna. I do feel the same way. You mean the world to me as well. It might be really corny for me to say this, but I just can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine my life without you.” Donna felt the tears already trickling down her cheek and across her jawline. She felt her fears slowly easing up. This was a great sign–she shared the same feelings about how important they were to one another. She smiled, squeezing [Y/N]’s hand even tighter. “I’m so glad.”

They stared at each other for a long while, both too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the moment. Angie, however, came bounding over and pulled on Donna’s pant leg. “Tell her how you feel already! It’s getting dark, and I’m getting tired!” Donna shooed her away silently, her head perking up when [Y/N] giggled. “Angie, don’t rush her. She shouldn’t feel uncomfortable no matter what she has to say.”

Donna felt her heart beating faster. She stared at her for a long moment, her mind racing. “Donna? You okay?” She jumped. “Y-Yes!” [Y/N]’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at her sudden urgent tone, making Donna blush as she reflected immediately on how she answered. She cleared her throat and covered her mouth. “I-I apologize. Yes, I’m alright.” “Okay, that’s good.” “But what Angie was talking about–about me telling you…how I feel?” “Yes?” “Before I tell you, could I possibly ask if you’d promise me something?” “Of course.” “Can you promise me that you won’t leave me? That nothing will change between us?”

[Y/N] laughed nervously, but quickly composed herself a bit when she saw just how terrified and expectant Donna seemed. “I promise, but what exactly are you wanting to tell me? I’m sure nothing could be bad enough to damage our relationship.” Donna nodded, wiping her tears away and gripping [Y/N]’s trembling hand in her own. “I suppose we’ll see. I just want–I want to tell you,” her voice trailed off, her confidence faltering and crumbling.

“Take your time, okay? Don’t feel like you have to rush.” Donna remembered every word of encouragement from the people who knew about that night–Bela’s, Cassandra’s, Daniela’s, and even [Y/N]’s. She needed to get this over with. The feeling of being a burden returned–she was taking too long to get it out there. She gripped her leg tightly and took three deep breaths. Steeling her nerves, she blurted it out before she could lose her courage and back out of it again–the way she had done so many times before.

“I love you.”

She felt a weight lift off of her shoulders, though it wasn’t much. She still needed to know if [Y/N] felt the same. She pried her eye open and finally darted her gaze back up to find [Y/N]’s, only to discover that the [h/c] girl was blushing profusely. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, making Donna even more anxious. “Did…did I ruin this?” She asked softly. [Y/N] slipped her hand from Donna’s to wave them dismissively in front of her. “Oh, no! No, Donna, not at all! I’m so sorry, I just—wasn’t expecting you to be the first one to confess.” Donna’s heart fluttered at the statement. She wanted to smile, but she needed to make sure she didn’t misinterpret the last part of the sentence.

“So…do you feel the same way?” “Yes! Yes, I do.” “Say it!” A random voice suddenly called from around the corner of the house. Both women jumped and turned to find Daniela peeking around the corner while Bela and Cassandra tried to pull her back into hiding. “What the hell?” Donna muttered, turning her attention back to [Y/N] when she laughed. “Sorry, they just really scared me,” she said in between breaths. Donna smiled warmly at her and let out a small snicker of her own. “They scared me as well.”

They gazed at each other with love-stricken grins. Finally, [Y/N] brought her hands up and took Donna’s into hers, caressing them softly before bringing her left hand up to press a light kiss to her knuckles. “I love you too,” she confessed. Donna’s heart flipped as a wide smile cracked across her lips. She stood, pulling [Y/N] to her feet, and tugged her into an embrace. “I love you so much. You have no idea how long I've dreamed of saying that to you,” she whispered. The faint sound of buzzing grew louder, and soon, Daniela was beside them, pulling them into a hug of her own. “Yes! See? I told you you could do it!” Bela and Cassandra joined nearby–Bela began to try to pry Daniela off of the two while Cassandra laughed at how ridiculous her sister was being. “Dani, leave them be! You just ruined the moment!” Donna giggled and leaned back from the hug just far enough to look over at her.

“Actually, Bela, she didn’t ruin anything. It’s alright, I promise. It’s nice to see that she’s so supportive of how [Y/N] and I feel about each other.” Bela sighed. “I’m glad, but Dani, you still need to let them go. This is their moment,” she said as she finally managed to yank her sister away from the two. Donna and [Y/N] both giggled at them before turning to stare at each other again. “So what does this mean? Are you two a thing now?” Cassandra suddenly asked as she stepped closer to the group.

The two women glanced at her before returning to each other. They studied each other’s gaze for a while, seemingly communicating without saying a word, and finally turned back to the sisters. “Yes, we are,” [Y/N] announced. Donna looked back down at her, unable to wipe the grin from her face.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Bela replied, softly patting Donna’s shoulder. “I told you this was a requited love.”

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

“Is that my shirt” + “relax” for bob and nat 👀

👀👀👀 ye i can do that

|| prompt list ||

prompts: "Is that my shirt?" + "Relax."

word count: 511

warnings: there's no actual smut in this but there are allusions to it, nat being vulnerable, bob being a good egg, idk man it's mostly fluff

“Is that my shirt?” Bob asked as he walked into his kitchen. 

Natasha was standing in front of the coffee maker wearing nothing but her pair of boyshorts from last night and his bright yellow VFA-51 t-shirt. Her dark hair in a loose ponytail, locks of it falling in her eyes as she tried to figure out how to get coffee to come out of the old machine. 

She jumped when she heard his voice, looking over at him standing in the doorway to his kitchen with that crooked little smile. Then she looked down at the shirt, fingers tugging at the hem.

In pure Phoenix fashion, she started defending herself, “Yeah, it is. I just wanted some coffee — I couldn’t find my clothes and this is the first thing I saw. I can go change if you want me to.” 

“No, no, s’okay.” Bob quickly shook his head, stepping further into the kitchen. “Looks good on you.” 

He watched her jaw clench before she turned back to the coffee maker. Her hands were steady as ever as she pulled out the filters and separated one from the stack. Natasha did everything like she was flying. Controlled, precise — like she had done it a million times before, even if it was her first time. 

Everything except whatever was blossoming between her and her backseater. It was completely new, only a few hookups and one date, and she didn’t know what to do with it. With him. With her feelings for him. With how he made her feel. 

She was so used to being Phoenix everywhere. The tough Navy pilot that took no shit and rolled her eyes through insults and held a commanding presence. But when she was with Bob…She was none of those things. He peeled back the layers of her until there was nothing left but just Natasha. Who blushed when he called her pretty and begged him for release and revealed all of her most vulnerable parts to him. 

She wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. Bob seeing all those pieces of her. Being vulnerable. It had only ever gotten her hurt before. 

So focused on scooping out the coffee grounds, she didn’t notice Bob cross the room until it was too late. Until he had his hands on her waist and his front was flush with her back. She tensed beneath his touch now in the light of morning. When just last night she had leaned into it with kiss swollen lips and inhibitions nowhere to be seen. 

But they were all back up now. What if he hadn’t liked that side of her? What if he only wanted that toughness? What if this made working together impossible — now that he knew just how soft she could be? 

“Nat…” he spoke quietly into corner of her jaw. “Relax. You’re okay. We’re okay.” 

The breath she released stuttered out of her as he trailed his lips down the column of her throat. As one big hand reached down to cup her through her boy shorts. 

“Just relax.”

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[genavere]

@whumptober 2023 - Day One

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Summary: Team Natsu and the Thunder Legion are on their way back from a mission together...but the forest has different ideas on how their night will go.

Warnings: Minor Blood, Embarrassment for Characters, Probably OOC, Crack Fic

Rating: T for Teens (I kept this one nice for all of you)

Relationships: None - Everyone can enjoy this crack shot

If a Branch Falls in the Forest...

“Stop it, all of you.” Lucy frowned, pressing her once favorite sweater against Laxus’ forehead. Behind her, Team Natsu and the Thunder Legion were bickering back and forth on who the fault would ultimately land on. All the arguing felt like a hammer against her skull. It had to be worse for the man before her.

The accident had been just that—nothing to fight over in her opinion. No one could have known that a branch from above would have fallen while they slept. Freed’s barrier spell had been set up to detect intruders, not foliage.

In her opinion, they were lucky the branch did not flat out kill him. They were called Widow Makers for a reason.

“Laxus?” she called gently, worried that he had not opened his eyes for the past ten minutes, but took his posture as a good sign. Arms crossed, back straight, and a growing tick under his eye, if the morons behind her would pay attention, they would know of the coming eruption.

Glancing over her shoulder, it impressed her how a simple branch caused the world to end. Gray and Natsu stood back-to-back, fists raised and agreeing with the other as Bickslow. Both Evergreen and Erza had gone all out and had their wings out and argued in the air over the men. Even Happy got into the action arguing with Bickslow’s puppets—and that seemed more like a game of tag than actual fighting.

Freed had tried to help her tend Laxus, but she had ordered him to sit when he became paler than the person bleeding and swooned. They already had one severely injured teammate, she did not need to tend another with the rest acting like children.

“Laxus,” she called again, snapping her fingers in front of his face. Grey eyes pierced her in a glare, one she quickly returned with her own. “Don’t you give me that look, Mr. Tough-and Mighty, I am doing my best here.”

Heat rose over her cheeks when all he gave in response was a grunt. Fingers tightened in the ruined fabric. The urge to ensure he had a concussion barely stomped down. Violence would solve nothing here, she reminded herself, ignoring the multiple voices casting spells behind her. Not even the explosion that sent her hair snapping against her face phased her.

Lifting three fingers, she closed her eyes and held them out for him. “Just… tell me how many fingers am I holding up, okay?”

Another grunt.

Virgo would be able to dig seven graves—Happy and the puppets would go with Natsu and Bickslow respectively—and if Taurus had the element of surprise. No, the stubborn bull would never be quiet enough to land a surprise attack, and she could not rely on Loke to attack Gray. Not even the contract and bond between them as spirit and master broke whatever relationship those two had since neither admitted anything.

A swell of magic pulled over her back and a wall of words erupted from the ground as an arsenal of swords bounced off them. Glancing back, she recognized Freed’s work and realized he put up a safety net to keep them safe.

Scratch that, to keep Laxus safe. The pouting green-haired man kept glaring at her over his shoulder before his stomach revolted again. Yeah, she sighed, she had only been collateral in being kept safe.

“Laxus, I swear”—she gritted her teeth and pressed the cloth harder into his head. A pleased lift graced her lips as he winced—“if you don’t tell me how many I am holding up, I will—”

“Two,” he grunted, once more not looking at her. The lift quickly turned downward. Two? Even if he had a concussion, usually the vision was blurred. The answer should have been three or more.

“What?”

He mirrored her earlier look, grinding his teeth together. “Your shirt—”

“My shirt…” She looked down, brows furrowed.

It had been a cold night, and faced with huddling against Erza and risking personal harm or bundling up, she had taken the safer option. Her sweater had been soft and warm, and she hated the fact it might never get all of the bloodstains out. Underneath, she had just worn a normal tank top, white in color…

And it seemed that without the sweater, her body revealed exactly how cold it was, and the white fabric did not help, either. Eyes widening in realization, she met grey ones again. The hint of red on his cheeks had not been from embarrassment—not embarrassment from the branch.

A squeal of indignation filled the forest for miles. One blonde stomped off, taking the furred coat of the downed Lightning Dragon Slayer with her. Another blond laid on the forest floor, eyes swirling, and a second welt swelling.

When they returned to the guild hall, a concussion had been confirmed, though neither Wendy nor Porlyusica could say which blow to the head caused it. And, unfortunately for all of them, the reward money went to replanting the forest they had stayed in after a chaotic battle had left nearly all of it destroyed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day one is in the bag! Not the whumpest of whumps, but it was fun to write, lol. The next few days will be out of order to fully put together a story concept I came up with (much like my Dead Stars story, but this time not in order).

Hope you all enjoyed!

[aew-kun-age-regression]

"Nails"

Pairings: Caregiver!Derek Hale + Caregiver!Peter Hale + Little!Erica Reyes+ Little!Stiles Stilinski.

Summary: Erica paints Derek's nails. (Idk how to summarise this one tbh 😅)

Warnings: Mentions Erica having a bad day at school, Nicknames. (De, Sweetheart, Sweetie, Eri, Trouble Makers.)

De - Derek

Eri - Erica

‼️ THIS IS NOT NSFW ‼️

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NOT Proofread

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Now.. one might ask how the 'big bad scary sour wolf' ended up in this position. - sitting crossed legged on the floor, while Erica sat in fron of him with nail polish in her hand.

If you didn't know the pack then you'd have never of guessed that painting Dereks nails was actually his own idea as Erica had had a particularly bad day at school.

Funnily enough this wasn't the first time Derek had put himself in a position multiple times to help his regressors...

Noone would believe the pack if they said that Derek Hale was a caregiver, especially not a good one. But he was. He was amazing at it. And so that is why his nails were not being painted an assortment of bright colours.

Once Erica had finished Dereks last nail she looked at him brightly.

"All finisheds De!!!" She announced loudly.

Derek looked down at his fingers.

"Oh its very lovely Sweetheart!" He said with a slighr smile.

"You gotta wait for it to dry now!!!"

"Okay-"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. A very specific knock that only the pack knew.

"Erica Sweetie could you get the door, i dont want to ruin my nails"

"Okay De!!!"

Erica ran up to the door opening it.

There stood Peter with a very sleepy Stiles on his back.

Peter looked at Erica (who was clearly small) and ruffled her hair with a smile.

"Can i come in Eri?"

She nodded.

Derek looked over at the other Hale and the child on his back with his eye brows raised.

Peter chuckled and quietly spoke.

"We went to the park. As you can see he had lots of fun."

"Ah i see. Well i think its time that both of these little trouble makers have a nap"

Peter took Stiles to the sofa and gently placed him down, and Erica got herself onto the other sofa in the room, laying down.

The two men smiled at the kids before leaving the room, letting them sleep.

It was then that Peter saw Dereks hand.

...

"I like the nails" He said, supressing a chuckle.

"Haha. They are amazing and you're just jealous she didnt do yours.." Derek replied, almost woth a pout.

This made Peter burst put laughing.

"Your right man. Maybe I'll see if she wants to paint them after her nap..."

The two spent the rest of the kids nap time bickering playfully between themselves.

[eeemarvel]

Camping Ask Pt2

This was such a good ask and now I'm back for more. The Hero Reform squad is on a camping trip and there's no signal. Who loves it and who hates it?? If you remember, Phichit left before they could even raise a tent despite Victor's pleas, leaving the hero with Chris who's desperately trying to be OK and Yuuri who's here for a good time, not a long time because his anxiety is telling him it's time to GO once the sun sets.

Oh yes and I'll be telling this story with the help of Schitt's Creek gifs.

Yurio's attitude depends entirely on the fact that a certain someone is also on this camping trip (character dynamic spoiler, so I'm not naming names). He's pouty and quietly grumbly most of the time because he can't use his switch but he would've been FAR worse if this certain someone wasn't also on the trip. He's dragging his feet behind the entire party on their hike to the campsite. He's moodily poking the pile of wood that's meant to be their fire with a stick because he's "helping". He's secretly rolling his eyes whenever the more chipper campers suggest campfire songs to sing. When the certain someone offers to teach him to fish, he reluctantly gives it the old POLITE college try before bowing out, opting for shadowing Victor and grumbling his complaints to his brother. Because he sees right through Victor's act. Chris stays away from Yurio bc he's afraid that the teen is going to out him by being a wet blanket. The only thing that he secretly kind of enjoys is in fact the stargazing. It's peaceful and he likes finding the patterns that make up the constellations. It reminds him of... Animal Crossing.

Yurio when Chris tries to talk himself into being optimistic for the trip:

One time, when Robin and Kenza were new to History Maker, Axle and Felix took them glamping which is like the super cushy and sheltered version of camping. They've been in love with "camping" ever since. They loved the open air aspect of hanging out with their buds and being able to do more outdoorsy things like making smores, fishing, and stargazing. At the end of the day, they could always retreat to their fully furnished tent so it wasn't bad at all! So when the squad camp trip came up they were both like "Yeah OF COURSE we'll go camping with you guys again! This is gonna be awesome! Let's bring everyone!! :DD" But Axle and Felix didn't tell them that they'd be *for real* camping in normal tents at a camp site that they have to hike to.

The thing is, Robin is by no means an outdoorsy person. They only agreed to go on the 1st camping trip when they were promised that they'd have all the comforts of home with the added benefit of being surrounded by nature. So they and Kenza are trying to cover up their distress and disappointment (much more successfully than Chris and Victor) as they hike through the woods, swatting bugs and avoiding animal poo. Kenza enjoys nature a bit more than Robin who is a homebody, but not by much. She's a "jog through the park and stop to admire the ducks on the pond, maybe sit on the grass for a while" girly. Not a "roughin it" girly. They end up enjoying themselves a bit more once they can sit down and make smores under the stars. They're stressed but you'd never know it. They even come up with cute songs to cheer up the other party poopers.

Kenza behind Felix's back when he says it'll be a 4 HOUR LONG HIKE:

Robin to Kenza when they're 2 hours into the hike, covered in bug bites, and still haven't reached the campsite:

Felix and Axle are responsible for this little excursion. They were actually only aiming to have Kenza, Robin, and Yurio come but they lucked out; Kenza and Robin asked Victor and Yurio to come and Yurio couldn't say no since it was 2 against 1. So Victor begged Yuuri K. to come who gave him an easy yes. And then Yuuri K. asked Phichit to come who said "lol sure," and Phichit asked Chris to come. Felix and Axle barely had to lift a finger.

Anyways, these boys love the great outdoors. Hiking, mountain climbing, white water rafting, you name it. They've been trying to get Kenza and Robin into the more natural side of life which is why they started soft with glamping. And that's how they trapped them. They are so ECSTATIC that everyone came along, so much so that they are not too upset when Phichit decides to leave. They're not totally aware that everyone else isn't having the best time because they're just excited that they were able to get such a large party to come with them. For Axle, he's just thrilled that he gets to spend time with everyone away from the stress of work. He misses everyone :')

Felix is checking out the birds, pointing out snakes, finding animal tracks, teaching the squad how to do camping stuff, and picking out the mushrooms you can eat. Whole time Axle is beside him hiding happy tears.

Felix when everyone gathers in the lobby of HM to leave for their trip:

Axle when Victor says that he and Yurio would be "more than happy to go camping" with him ((because Victor thinks that Axle looks super hopeful and can't bring himself to say no)):

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

^^

This, 100%. But also as someone who worked this kind of job it *is* sincerely helpful when customers understand what’s going on behind the scenes.

I’m absolutely not saying it’s the customers’ fault, or that you shouldn’t unionize, or that it’s not understaffing (I’m extremely aware that that’s about 90% of most of the problems we faced). You’re right and I wish that could have happened, been fixed, etc. (I’m at a new job that, fingers crossed, seems to be much better about this.)

What I *am* saying is that customers tend to be more patient and understanding if they know what we’re up to / expected to do. Especially in the meantime while we are forced to be understaffed.

We’re *technically* not supposed to tell customers that we’re understaffed or why we’re struggling or any of that, but as an autistic who’s sometimes brutally honest, sometimes I would anyway. It usually gave customers a sense of relief, ironically (because then they understood we weren’t intentionally slow or ignoring them, and that it wasn’t their particular order or anything special about them that made us struggle).

I was a cashier. I was the one who typed in some of these orders. I was sometimes the one who yelled it into the kitchen if we had a big order so that the people on fryer or sandwich maker positions could prepare a couple minutes early, to save all the time we could. (“40 nuggets going out!” (we had to drop a new bag, that was usually all we had & sometimes more than we had); “nine burgers going out!”)

So whether it was during a cleaning time, during a rush, or close to close, I would tell the customer what was going on. It made both of our lives easier.

“We had three people call in, so we’re a little short staffed. It may be a few extra minutes to get your food; ¿is that okay?” Sometimes that could save someone on their work lunch break, or it would at least give them the chance to ask for it to-go so they had time to return to their workplace. Sometimes it told them they had time to run to the restroom or call a friend to come visit.

“We have five people running ten positions today; I’m so sorry for the delay. ¿What can we get you?” Usually a quick explanation with an apology made the customer smile, relax, and order their food. Sometimes they would ask questions and make sure we were going to be alright when we were short staffed.

As long as it was brief, and often accompanied with an apology (‘sorry for the delay’), a question (‘is that okay’), or both (‘we're short staffed today, I'm sorry for the delay. is it okay if you have to wait a couple extra minutes before your food is ready? we'll get it out as soon as we can’), then customers felt reassured, relieved, respected, or at least less upset.

The customers also usually felt like they were being let in on a secret, in a happy & connective way. They would lean in, murmur curiosity, ask questions about how being short-staffed worked/affected us or about what each position was expected to do (not in an intrusive way, more of a ‘how many responsibilities are you expected to juggle? ...oh wow, that's actually a lot. can I make your job a little easier?’ kind of way). Often this meant explaining that as the cashier, I was typing in orders and giving out drink cups or specialty drinks, but I was also getting orders out to customers at the other part of the counter (two positions, supposed to be two people at least, but they usually had the cashier do it all), and I was somehow expected to still stay on top of keeping the dining room swept, the tables cleaned, touch points wiped down, finger prints off of anything glass, wiping down soda machines & replacing anything that ran out, restocking the straws/lids/portion cups/etc.— I was expected to basically do the physical labour of two to three people so corporate didn’t have to pay three people and lose a tiny bit of profit, and ‘risk’ somebody having a chance to rest and breathe (“if you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean”).

Obviously we couldn’t share some information (upcoming sales or profit info or whatnot that we’d get sued for sharing), but if I was allowed legally to share it (even if it was frowned upon), I would.

Sometimes I’d even run the drive through alone, and that’s supposed to be minimum three people (I think it should have been four). I’d have to take orders at the loudspeaker (talk to the customer, ask the questions so I got the info we needed to make it, & type it all in), cashier at the window and try to minimize the small talk (so I had time to do everything), and also bag and hand out the order. That’s not including that I had to make drinks, and only the soda machine was close by. If they wanted anything else (coffee, lemonade, etc.) I had to go around the corner away from my register to make it, then bring the drink(s) over to the window (and sometimes they ordered several of those speciality drinks). Sometimes I even had to run the fryer station too. Whenever this happened, I would tell customers explicitly what was happening. “Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m running drive-through alone” (at the window) or “I’ll be right with you, I need to cash out the car at my window” (at the speaker). It helped them feel better about the delay, and be a little more patient as I desperately attempted to keep up or catch up. It happened a lot because I was their longest lasting employee apart from (7 years, 14 years) people titled management (because let’s be honest, I was one without the pay or title by the end).

After I had made it a whole year, they gave me a celebratory pin and started asking me to “coach” new people, and started making me run 3 to 4 positions alone. The longest employees were two to three years, and by the time I finally quit (2 years), every single one of the people I started with had quit (for new employment or because they couldn’t stand it anymore). There were a handful who began after me, six months to a year in, but they were already talking about leaving too. Most people I left behind had been there a month to six months at most. (I left in part because I was supposed to have a new job (got yanked from underneath me), and in part because they were ableist (anti autistic, anti physical disability, very very anti depression (that would be a whole other post)) and sexist & transphobic (very interrelated), and in part because they refused to actually make me a manager despite having me do every single manager task up to and including training new hires *with the manager specific training packet*. I began that job because they promised to promote me to management a year or so in, but they just kept making excuses (the real reason is depressed/bipolar autistic trans masc person, who can’t perfectly mask).

I wish we had been properly staffed, or that people were employed longer than 3 months so we had time to unionize (they usually quit at that point). It was exhausting trying to run a minimum of two to three positions, or sometimes what should have been four to five positions. I wish I had known how to unionize (they of course kept all that information from us), and had the confidence to involve others. Most of that was corporate’s fault (intentional), because greedy capitalism was more important than their workers’ lives, safety, and even ability to work properly.

But I, as a cashier, also hated it when customers showed up too close to closing time (didn’t hate the customers, but did dread the extra work). I tried to not make it their problem, but I would deflate a little and immediately dread taking their order. Because like the line cook above said, as a cashier you’re very strictly told to make anything the customer requests no matter how inconvenient or painful. Make the customer happy, worry about yourself and your cleaning and your store later. So I was expected and demanded to let them order forty nuggets or three triple burgers or whatever they wanted, and I couldn’t kick them out of my dining room so I had to clean around them, lock the doors, and wait for them to leave (because I couldn’t leave until they did, even if I was technically off *at* closing). Sometimes I’d nudge that we were short-staffed or (‘how are you’) a little ‘haha, well, I'm alive’, but I got in trouble for admitting that we were all exhausted, it was three minutes to close, and I just wanted to go home.

Customers who didn’t work in fast food were shocked by what was expected of me. (Customers who did were very understanding.) So I continued—despite protests from management—to openly disclose why we were struggling, late to talk to them, or late getting their food to them. I wish more people understood how fucked up the fast food industry is (wage theft, understaffing, expectations, timers & competitions, etc.), and how difficult it can be to work anywhere in the food industry (unless you’re very well staffed with a good boss).

The tasks the line cook described ^^ made me recall as the cashier how much we all struggled. I watched the cooks and fryers and sandwich makers groan, or run to grab more food or add something to the fryer, or lean into the edge of their station in exhaustion, or stare blankly at the screen and count sadly how much they had to make, or panic at a new order. Even as a cashier, or when I bagged their orders, it was exhausting and stressful.

I loved seeing the regulars, and beginning to memorize their name and order. It was rewarding to see them smile or light up at being recognized. They were usually the most patient, empathetic, and respectful people. They were dependable. But the new people or infrequent people were the ones who were shocked by what was expected of us.

The least stressful late orders (or large orders) called ahead or placed a mobile order. We could make it ahead of time, and continue our tasks. It still wasn’t ideal, but we didn’t have to panic or run to prepare for it. Or at minimum it was the small orders— one meal with one drink, or a couple sandwiches.

Please please please be kind and patient with your food service workers.

~Nico

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[sinfulspencer]

Double espresso.

Prompt: Derek notices Spencer has a crush on the bartender at the local coffee shop, so he does his best to play match-maker.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: fluff

Warnings: //

Words: 4.2k

A.N.: I had this idea in mind for quite some time. I came out exactly like I wanted to. I hope you like it. x

“I hate Mondays.”

Spencer takes off his jacket and leaves his leather satchel on the chair. “You know, there are actual physiological factors involving the body’s natural cycle that can explain why Mondays are so rough. Especially for those, like us, who follow traditional Monday-to-Friday workweeks!”

Derek glances at him, picking up the menu of the coffee shop. “I’m pretty sure I hate Mondays because I usually hang out with Savannah and her friends every Sunday night.”

The young doctor turns to his friend, chuckling. “Ah. I bet that’s true. What did you do last night? Did you take them to the cinema?”

“Worse. They were celebrating Savannah’s third year of not being single anymore.” – Derek explains, shaking his head – “I didn’t even know you could celebrate that!”

“The world never stops to amaze me.” – Spencer mumbles, shrugging and glancing at the entrance of the bar – “So, uh, what do you want this morning? Two espresso?”

His colleague furrows his brows, crossing his arms to his chest.

This is the first time Spencer decides, on his own, to order for both of them. It’s quite unusual: the coffee shop is always busy, just like today, and Spencer doesn’t really enjoy crowded spaces – which is exactly the reason why Derek has always asked for his order and got that for him.

It’s not that he wants to go today, because he’s really not in the mood to end up in another crowd of people who are yelling at the three bartenders inside to get their coffees. He’s just curious to know why Spencer has changed his mind.

There must be something in there that has captured his attention, Derek is not stupid – and he’s a profiler. He can read Spencer’s body language pretty well.

“Oh? Are you going to be a waiter today?”

Spencer gives him a nervous smile, glancing again at the entrance of the bar. “You’ve done it for the past two months and three weeks! I thought you could catch a break, you know. Especially after last night.”

Derek crosses his arms to his chest. “Thank you, Reid. Are you sure?”

“Hm, yes!” – exclaims the younger agent, pulling out his wallet from his pocket – “I’ll be right back with your coffee. What was your order again?”

Once Morgan has reminded Spencer that he knows his order pretty well, he sits down on the chair and moves it to the right. He has to be subtle, but he also needs to see what’s going on inside of that coffee shop – Derek might already have an idea about Spencer’s new interest.

It’s not just the new type of coffee branded on the glass of the entrance, which made Spencer already excited. No, there’s also a young girl – probably the same age as him – making coffee and handing out all of those cups.

Derek smirks when he sees Spencer approaching the counter, patiently waiting for his turn while keeping his eyes on the young woman’s face. Derek noticed that bartender as well when he and his colleague started to get their coffee there; he has always thought she’d be the perfect fit for Spencer, because they just... Look nice together.

It wasn’t really a personality-reason, obviously. Morgan never talked to her if not while ordering his and Spencer’s coffee, but she has always been kind and gentle with him. Even while there were at least ten people waiting in line and yelling at her to be quick because they had to go to work.

Spencer is now talking to her, his fingers moving quickly as he explains what he and Derek want for breakfast. The young woman stares at Spencer for a few seconds and then, when he pulls out a nickel from behind her ear, she laughs.

Derek shakes his head.

Spencer is using magic tricks to flirt with her. While she’s working.

He’s lucky there are not many people in line, otherwise she would’ve probably kicked him out.

However, she seems intrigued by Spencer’s actions because she leans forward and looks straight at him with a huge smile on her lips. Derek wonders if Spencer has been rehearsing that magic trick for days, over and over until it’s more than perfect – he probably has, and that’s what makes Derek realise that he has to be the match-maker.

He needs to ask that girl if she’s interested in Spencer, and if she is, he needs to set up some kind of date.

They look too cute together.

Derek is sure Penelope will be more than happy to participate in this plot.

It’s been so long since Spencer has gone on a date. After his disaster with Lila, he has always been alone – Derek knows that a partner is not essential, especially for someone like Spencer who’s already found love in books and psychology and physics.

It would be nice to see Spencer with someone, that’s it.

Derek is going to organize that date and that’s it. If Spencer is interested, he’ll go. If he’s not, he won’t – and neither Derek or Penelope will pressure him into doing something that doesn’t make him comfortable.

They would never.

Spencer heads out of the coffee shop with two cups in his hands and walks back to the table, a satisfied smile on his lips that he immediately hides when Derek stares at him.

“Hey! What has gotten into you today?”

The young doctor puts their orders on the table, clearing his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Derek chuckles, tilting his head. “Oh, I’m sure you do. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about her, but I saw you.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything, pretending to have not heard a single thing from his colleague. He knows very well that the bartender has a crush on him, just like he has one on her. Spencer is sure that she’s made for him. It’s difficult not to believe so, when his heart flutters every single time he spots her behind the counter smiling to every single customer.

She’s just so endearing to watch, which is why Derek has always ordered for Spencer. Because he loves watching her. He finds it so attractive that she never loses her smile – not even when a client is rude to her, which happens pretty often.

“So you’re not gawking at the cute bartender right now, are you?”

Spencer takes a sip of coffee, immediately looking away. “No.”

“Wow. You need to get better at lying, kid.” – Morgan says, chuckling again – “I don’t blame you, she’s really pretty.”

Spencer tries his best not to get defensive right now, crossing his arms and moving his eyes on his colleague’s face. He’s well aware she’s gorgeous beyond words, everyone can see that, but he’s a bit jealous.

Derek would never flirt with her because he’s married.

“Did you finish your report for Hotch? He’s going to kick your ass if you haven’t.”

Derek notices the shift in the topic and he decides not to pressure him to talk. “Nope, which is why I was hoping you could help me out this morning.”

The conversation isn’t over.

It’s Thursday morning, four days since Spencer flirted with the bartender and his conversation with Morgan. Spencer made sure not to go to work on Tuesday and Wednesday because he had to go to DC for something he didn’t say, so Derek couldn’t ask any more questions about his situation with the bartender.

Spencer walks beside Derek, going straight to his table outside the coffee shop. He hasn’t said a word since they’ve seen each other, except their usual greeting, and Derek is worried: did something happen to him? Did he fight with somebody at home or in DC? Did he see the bartender with somebody else?

“Hi, good morning Agent Morgan! I’ll be right there! Usual?”

The young bartender waves at him, washing her hands. She had been waiting to see Spencer, but his colleague came in instead – he’s also a beautiful view, she can’t deny that, but she’s more interested in the guy on the other side of the door.

“Hey, good morning. Yes, the usual.”

Spencer is fidgeting with his leather satchel, pulling the strings before twisting them into a knot – and releasing them right after with a sigh. Derek looks at him from where he is, leaning against the counter with his elbow.

“Here it is. Double espresso for Agent Reid, Americano for you.” – the bartender says, catching Derek’s attention – “Is everything alright?”

Derek looks at her, nodding. “Yes. I didn't see you yesterday.”

She immediately blushes, biting her bottom lip. “Oh, yeah. I was... I was with my mother. She came here to visit me for a few days.”

Weird.

She wasn’t here two days before, just like Spencer.

Derek decides not to read too much into it. “I understand. Well, I wish you a wonderful day. And please, if my colleague comes back tonight, pretend you’re surprised.”

The young bartender lingers for a few seconds in front of the agent, glancing between the doctor sitting outside and his colleague right in front of her. She wants to say something, which is why Derek waits for her to talk, but then she grabs another empty cup of coffee and turns around.

“Thank you for the heads up, Agent Morgan. I will.”

Derek gives her a smile, waving at her colleague before heading out of the coffee shop with his two cups of coffee in his hands. He did his job, now he’s going to wait for Spencer to accept his offer and come back later.

It’s Thursday, so unless they have another case waiting for them at Headquarters, Spencer is free for the whole evening.

The young doctor has a book in his hands, but his eyes are not on the pages – no, they’re gawking at the bartender. Obviously.

“Come on, Reid. Now this is getting weird.” – Derek says, sitting down with him – “Just go inside and ask for her number!”

Spencer widens his eyes, frantically shaking his head. “I can’t do that. She’s working!”

“You performed a magic trick for her while she was working!” his colleague exclaims

That’s true, but he did it only because she asked him to. She overheard him and Morgan talking about magic last week, and she asked Spencer if he knew any magic tricks – obviously he did, and he used one to his advantage.

It was amazing to see her smile just because he made a nickel disappear and reappear from behind her earring. Derek knows that this is Spencer's way of flirting with somebody, and the reaction he got from the girl was self-explanatory. She likes Spencer and Spencer likes her.

What could go wrong? Well, everything if one of them doesn’t make the first move.

“That’s different.” Spencer mumbles

“If you don’t ask for her number, I will. For you.” Morgan tells him

“Would you do that? Really?”

“I’d do anything to make you stop staring at her like some kind of creep. I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything about the way you keep staring at her.” – his colleague rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his espresso – “Or you could come here this evening and order your double espresso, with her number.”

Spencer bites his bottom lip, playing with the lid of his cup. “That might be a good idea.”

Derek pats him on the shoulder. “That girl likes you. A lot.”

“Well... We’ll see. I’ll come back this evening.” – the young doctor glances at the woman behind the counter and she waves at him, making him blush – “This is the best coffee shop ever.”

“I wonder why.”

Spencer laughs along with his colleague, still glancing a few times at the young bartender busy with the coffees and the cupcakes she’s making. When their eyes meet, he waves at her - and she smiles.

Spencer feels his heart jump in his chest and immediately looks away, tightening his grip on the book on his thighs. Morgan doesn’t seem to notice that exchange of looks and even if he did, he doesn’t say anything - he doesn’t want to make Spencer uncomfortable.

“What should I tell her?”

Derek raises his brows. “Well, approach her and ask her how her day went.”

“That’d be predictable.” - Spencer mumbles, shrugging - “I don’t want to be predictable.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate your interest in her day, Reid.” - explains the other agent, taking another sip of coffee - “See how she reacts to your presence here and ask her if she’s busy tonight.”

“Tonight?!”

Derek nods. “Yes, tonight. Are you doing anything tonight?”

“No, but…”

“Then ask her if she’d like to hang out with you after work.”

Spencer huffs loudly, tapping his fingers over the hardcover of the book. “I can’t do that, Morgan, she might think I’m a creep.”

“If you keep looking at her like that, she might.”

“Oh stop it! I’m just… admiring her from afar. I’m not doing anything bad.”

Derek looks at the watch on his wrist, standing up from the chair. “You’re not, but I think she’d appreciate you talking to her. Come on, we need to go to work. My report is not going to write itself.”

Spencer throws the empty cup of coffee in the trash can beside their table and takes another look inside the coffee shop, watching the bartender bend over to pick up a napkin from the floor. When she gets back up and turn around, she sees him standing there with a smile on his face.

The bartender flips him off.

Spencer grins and shakes his head, following his colleague to his car.

Spencer leans against the wall of the elevator, with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

He woke up early this morning and instead of waiting for Morgan, he took the metro to get to the coffee shop before his colleague. He came up with an excuse of being late or wanting to go for a walk, and spend at least an hour inside of that coffee shop.

The bartender didn’t have much time to talk to him, but Spencer didn’t mind.

Looking at her and admiring her beauty from afar were more than enough for him, which put a smile on his face for the whole morning.

Spencer gets out of the elevator and instead of being greeted by a smile, he finds Morgan right in front of him with a confused expression on his face. Spencer pretends not to see him and walks straight to his desk, rolling his eyes when the question arrives to his ears.

“Did you ask her out?”

Penelope gasps, hurrying towards Morgan. The loud echo of her heels against the floor make Spencer realise that he’s not going to get to work that easily – especially not if those two are going to pry him with questions about his personal life.

Spencer finds this amusing.

“Who? Who asked who out?”

Spencer rolls his eyes, pulling the strings of his satchel. He just arrived at his desk and his colleagues are already pressuring him to talk about something that has obviously happened. It’s not that Spencer wants to keep it a secret, because that’s not the case, it just... Sometimes he likes to have a little privacy.

“The cute bartender.”

Penelope furrows her brows, puzzled. “What? What cute bartender? Do I know them?”

Spencer sits behind his desk, leaving his phone inside the leather satchel. “Me and Morgan found a coffee shop not too far from here. There’s a young bartender who works there and serves us every single day. I might have mentioned having a crush on her. Now Morgan is not letting it go.”

Derek walks behind him, putting his hands on Spencer’s shoulders. “Ah, ah! That’s not all.”

The young doctor crosses his arms to his chest, allowing his colleague to continue his speech.

“I convinced Lover Boy to ask for her number two days ago, but he hasn’t said anything yet. I’m assuming either she said no, and left him hanging, or she said yes, and he doesn’t want us to ruin anything.”

Penelope widens her eyes, sitting right in front of Spencer’s desk. “Oh! Wait, are you talking about the coffee shop next to the florist? The one with roses on the entrance?”

“Yes, that one!” Derek replies

Emily, who has overheard the whole conversation, turns on her chair. “You have a crush on Y/N!”

Spencer hums, immediately looking up at the sound of her name. “Do you know her?”

“Oh, yes! Of course I do!” – she says, crossing her arms to her chest – “Now that I think about it, she’s perfect for you. She’s obsessed with magic.”

“Do you have a picture of her?” Penelope asks

Emily clicks her tongue, leaning forward on her desk. “No, unfortunately not. I used to go to the old coffee shop she worked in before it closed, she was a sweetheart and very pretty. Always smiling, always running. Just adorable.”

Derek opens his arms. “See? She’s perfect for him! And he doesn’t want to say anything! That’s not fair, I was the match-maker. I need to know if I did my job.”

Spencer looks up, patting Morgan’s hand.

There are so many things he’d say about that bartender, but he’s not going to do that – he loves keeping Morgan on the edge, it’s so funny, considering that he’s the one who basically started the whole thing.

“I don’t want to say anything because there’s nothing to say, besides the fact that she told me you warned her I’d come over in the evening.” – Spencer explains and Morgan holds back a laugh – “That wasn’t very nice. You ruined my perfect plan to approach her.”

“I was trying to push you to make the first move.”

“I understand and I appreciate the help, Derek, but I think I can do it by myself.” – the young doctor says, making Emily and Penelope gasp at the same time – “Also, I’m not going to tell you what happened. I like my privacy.”

Emily laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, but you love to gossip with me. Can’t we gossip about a girl you want to date?”

Spencer’s nose twitches. “It’s not just a girl I want to date, she’s...”

“Yes? She is what, Reid?” Derek winks, waiting for his friend to say something else

That’s when Spencer stops talking, a smile spreading over his lips. No, he’s not going to spill out anything – it’s not the right time, and definitely not the right place. They all need to get back to work and save lives, not listening to Spencer’s love life.

Even though it’s more interesting.

Penelope pouts, crossing her arms to her chest. “Just tell us if she gave you her number or not!”

Spencer ignores her, turning on his computer and grabbing one of the books on his desk. He’s not going to spill out what really happened, because it’s none of their business – he loves his friends and he’s dying to tell them everything, but they’re going to wait.

Derek gets back to his desk, keeping his eyes on Spencer the whole time.

“Hey Reid, we’re planning on going out for a drink this weekend. Are you going to join us?” JJ asks, having no idea about the conversation that just happened

Spencer looks up at her, giving her a smile. “Yes. I’d love to join you.”

“Wonderful! First round is on Derek because he didn’t bring us doughnuts today.” – Penelope exclaims, following JJ to her desk – “Hey, talk to Spencer and ask him if he asked a bartender for her number.”

JJ raises her brows, turning to Spencer. “Oh? I didn’t know you were...”

“Penelope! I can hear you, you know.” Spencer mumbles, a shadow of a smile appearing on his lips

“Sorry! I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.” – Penelope answers, tilting her head – “JJ, if you find something out, please tell me.”

Spencer can’t help, but laugh at his colleague’s behaviour.

“Where’s Spencer?”

“He’s a bit late. He was stuck in traffic.” – JJ chimes in, looking at the text he sent her – “He should be here in a couple of minutes.”

“Alright, alright.” – Derek says, leaning against the counter – “We’ll wait for him, even though I don’t think he’s going to drink.”

Penelope hums, crossing her legs underneath the table. “Just order the usual for him.”

David and Aaron couldn’t make it tonight, but the rest of the youth decided to hang out anyway to blow out the steam of the week. Even though they didn’t work on any particular case, sometimes it’s just to spend some time with your co-workers and enjoy a drink or two.

Will and Savannah come back inside the bar, after calling the babysitter that has to keep an eye on Michael, Henry and Hank. Derek promised Savannah he wouldn’t get drunk just like what happened on Sunday, but it’s obvious he’s not going to reject a drink or two with his friends.

Emily already has a glass of red wine, Penelope a glass of white.

“Hey! You didn’t wait for us!” JJ exclaims, leaning against her husband

“We were thirsty! And I need to be drunk for the karaoke session with Penelope. There’s no way in Hell I’m gonna get up there sober..” – Emily explains, lifting her glass before turning around towards the entrance of the bar – “Wait, is that...”

Penelope follows her gaze, finding the same view Emily is admiring. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Derek furrows his brows, turning around

It doesn’t take long for him to spot Spencer, right next to the door of the bar, holding hands with the bartender of their coffee shop. She’s waving at the owner of the bar, probably because they know each other, and she looks around to see where the rest of Spencer’s colleagues are.

He whispers something to her ear and she turns around, kissing him on the lips.

Derek was not expecting to see that.

Not because it’s disgusting, don’t get him wrong – he’s ecstatic to know that his friend has finally gotten the courage to ask the bartender out, but they’re already kissing and holding hands. Did it really take such a short amount of time for them to get close?

Unless...

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Emily widens her eyes, the realisation hitting her. “Shut your mouth! That’s...”

Derek glances at Savannah and silently tells her that he’s going to walk over to Spencer. He has to confront him because he can’t believe Spencer hid his relationship from everybody – and pretended to flirt with a stranger.

That’s just... Incredibly smart.

“Reid!”

Spencer yelps at the voice from behind him and he turns around, smiling softly when he spots his best friend right in front of him.

“Hey Derek.”

“Agent Morgan, hello!”

The bartender waves at him, smiling softly. “You two...”

The young doctor shrugs, pulling his girlfriend’s hand. It’s fun to see how Morgan pieced everything together so late, Spencer didn’t know him and his girlfriend were such good actors – but they were, because Derek truly didn’t notice anything.

Spencer never held back when he went to the coffee shop, especially when he lingered inside for more than one minute just to share a quick kiss with his girlfriend – right in front of her colleagues, and Derek as well.

It’s just that Derek never looked inside. If he had, he would’ve seen them.

“You were the best match-maker in the world, unfortunately for you we’re already together.”

“But thank you for pushing him to pick me on Thursday! I didn’t want to take the bus and he didn’t really want to drive all the way to my apartment.” – she tells him, rolling his eyes – “Which is weird, because he does it almost every night.”

Derek is speechless. He wasn’t expecting this at all.

“Derek, is everything okay?” Spencer asks, chuckling

“Yes, I’m processing everything that has just happened. I’m shocked, I wasn’t... I didn’t notice you lying to me. I guess my profiling skills are not as good as they were before.” – Derek jokes, feeling someone approaching them and smiling when it’s Savannah – “Well, it’s very nice to meet you Y/N.”

Spencer’s girlfriend gives him a smile, bowing her head. “Pleasure to meet you officially, Agent Morgan. And you must be Savannah, his wife!”

Savannah holds out her hand. “Yes! And you must be Spencer’s girlfriend. He has told me so many things about you.”

“Uh, excuse me! What?” Derek raises his brows

Y/N bites her bottom lip, turning to her boyfriend. He’s giggling like a child and he leans forward.

“It’s my fault.” – Spencer says, lifting his free hand up – “I talked to her about Y/N because they know each other and she introduced me to my girlfriend. I wanted to see how long it would’ve taken you to figure out I was already in a relationship with her. I guess... A whole month.”

Derek shakes his head, pretending to be hurt. “I can’t believe it.”

Savannah playfully taps him on the chest. “Don’t beat yourself up, Derek. Just take another profiling class, maybe next time it’ll happen you’ll be more ready.”

Spencer lets out a laugh, following Savannah and Y/N inside the bar.

[tmntxthings]

HELLO!! I've been binging your fics lately and I am absolutely in love with your writing!! I haven't seen many but I was wondering if you could do a Rise Donnie x chubby reader? Nothing with insecurity or anything, maybe just something fluffy! It's rare to come across fics w a chubby reader that isn't angsty LOL -👑

What Are You Waiting For?

author’s notes: animal by neon trees influenced this oneshot greatly, I hope my 👑 anon that this is what you had in mind 💜✨

warnings: longer oneshot, super fluffy

> part two <

—————————————————————————

Donnie was humming along to a song as he floated above the tall buildings of New York City. He was currently scanning all the nearby buildings with his headset, until his gear loaded in a match. “Found you!” Donnie said triumphantly as he pushed back the goggles. It was 9:00 pm, the sun only having gone down an hour or two ago. But Donnie couldn’t help himself, plus he was dressed pretty inconspicuously, purple hoodie and all. He landed in the alley next to the small bakery, making sure he looked presentable and his tech was stowed away in his shell.

“Alright Othello Von Ryan, be smooth~” he spoke to himself as he started walking to the sideway. “Yo bro, where you at?” Leo’s voice patched in from Donnie’s wrist tech. “Occupied, talk later!” Donnie said immediately before turning off the voice channel, not wanting any interruptions once he finally walked into the shop. The smell of freshly baked goods wafted into his face as he opened the door. And coffee! He sighed dreamily, if he could bottle this smell up he would. Which gave him an idea for later. But back to the task at hand!

He was the only customer in the store, which was a shame as well as an advantage. He’d have your absolute attention, though as he looked around, the counter also seemed to be empty. Then as if his thoughts had called to you, you came bursting through the back door that led to the kitchen. “Sorry about that dear customer, I was taking out some macaroons from the oven!” You said not looking over at him just yet as you crossed out something on a tiny notebook. After that you finally looked up, Donnie had made his way to the counter, like a moth drawn to flames. “Oh! Donnie, it’s you!” You graced him with a smile and Donnie could only nod for a few seconds before actual thoughts came to him.

“Yes it is I, Donatello, your favorite and most valued customer,” he said smiling a little smug smile. You giggled at that, shaking your head but not going as far as verbally refuting. “You always like to come when I’m about to close up shop!” You said as you glanced down at the treats you had left. Today looked to be a busy day for you as Donnie looked at his options. All his favorites were gone and he clutched at where his heart would be. “Not the scones! And the petits-fours too?!” Donatello hid a frown behind his hand as he contemplated trying something new or just getting a coffee. “Oh wait!” You said shaking him from his inner thoughts as you quickly disappeared from his view back into the kitchen.

When you emerged both your hands were behind your back as if to hide something. Donnie looked at you curiously and it wasn’t til you stood right in front of him, the counter the only thing between the two of you, did you reveal two perfect little cakes. Donnie gasped as you said, “I thought you might come tonight and remembered to save your favorite!” Donnie smiled brightly, they even had purple frosting on them! He readily held out his gloved hands, you gently placed them both and he was enraptured by your fingers, they were so small compared to his own. So cute and chubby and he blushed to himself at the word cute. “That’ll be $10, did you want a coffee too?”

You didn’t seem to notice him going into a reverie over just the sight of your cute hands up close. “Hmm? Oh yeah I’ll have a coffee, your special” he specified, because not only were you an excellent baker but you were a bangin’ coffee maker too. Donnie didn’t think he would ever make his own coffee if all it took was a five minute trip here from the lair. “Coming right up, most valued customer,” you giggled and winked at him. He was stunned, you were usually so shy with him. But he had become a regular, maybe you were finally warming up to him! That thought made him feel all mushy inside, he reallyyyy wanted you to be comfortable around him.

He watched as you flitted around behind the counter whipping up his coffee. “Soo do you have any plans after you close up shop for the night?” Donnie was trying his hardest to be smooth. He had practiced that line about 20 times. “No plans!” You said in concentration as you poured a certain amount of creamer into a cup. “Welll” Donnie started to fidget, getting nervous because this was the part that would either mean success or failure. “I was wondering, if you would wanna go watch a movie sometime?” He had been staring at the back of your head with pleading eyes hoping for just a chance and when you turned to him, cup of coffee in your hands he looked away, down at the countertop.

He was too nervous! How could he possibly watch as you turned him down. He should’ve known- “I love movies! When were you thinking?” You chirped happily as you slid the coffee into his frame of view. His head shot up, “Really?” then just as quickly he said, “I mean, we can go tonight! To the theater just around the corner?” He said a smug smile coming back to his face. But relief flooded his mind, he couldn’t believe it! You were giving him a chance!! “Sounds good to me, it’ll take me a couple of minutes after closing to get the shop ready for tomorrow,” you said and Donnie was offering his assistance. “Oh no, you haven’t even started on your coffee and cakes!” You said nodding to his hands.

Which reminded him he needed to pay! And as he started digging around for his wallet you stopped him, “how about you get a special discount tonight since you’re taking me out on a date,” you gave him another flirtatious wink. Boom. His brain fried up completely as his mouth dropped open slightly, “I’ll be right back!” You said giggling at his reaction as you went to get the shop ready for tomorrow. Donnie found his way to a table and a chair as he sat down not really thinking about anything other than you winking at him. His heart was pounding as he sipped on his coffee and nibbled the petit-fours. He was a goner if you kept flirting with him like that, he’d surely make a fool out of himself!

But while his brain was running around flailing it’s imaginative arms in worry, Donnie’s heart was fired up and ready. He wanted you to flirt with him again, and he wanted to flirt back. He just needed another opportunity and not short circuit like before. When he finished off the treats and coffee he went to the trash can to throw away the wrappers and empty cup. When he turned around you were coming out from behind the counter, apron off and hair down. He swore under his breath as he took in your fitting jeans and cute purple shirt. You were so pretty, and he obviously knew that before, but seeing you now with his favorite color on you and the rest of your outfit, your hair down, his heart was racing. “Ready?” You smiled shyly as you twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly. “Yep,” he said in awe as he held the door open for you. You smiled, waiting for him to follow through before locking the door with your keys.

“So what movie were you thinking?” you said getting the conversation flowing and Donnie breathed through his nose to try and get it together. “I’m down for anything, but my favorites are sci-fi and action,” the conversation went on from there as he learned your favorites. The two of you walking closely together as the night had gotten chilly. He wasn’t ready to make a move like wrapping an arm around you, but maybe he’d work up the courage in the theater! He still couldn’t believe it, that you had agreed and it had a constant smile on his face. “Oh look! They’ve got Avatar 2!!” You said excitedly and before he knew it you had his gloved hand in your own, tugging him forward as you ran to the ticket booth. His mind screeched as he moved trying to keep up but his eyes were glued to where you held his hand. He wished he didn’t have the gloves on, to be able to feel you, but he pushed that thought away quickly. Baby steps Donatello, don’t go ruining things just yet!

“Two for Avatar,” Donnie said as he pulled out his wallet with his free hand, not wanting you to let go but you did so he could grab some dolla dolla bills. Tickets now in hand, Donnie pushed open the door letting you walk by him, you smelled like your bakery, he tried not close his eyes at the smell. “Are you hungry?” Donnie said as he followed after you noticing the snack bar. “Hmm do you wanna share some popcorn?” you asked looking over at him and he nodded swiftly.

The two of you sat towards the back, popcorn in your hands as he carried the drink, he had gotten two straws and he was mentally flippingggg out. Seriously he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, he could hardly contain his excitement as you both settled in your seats. The lights dimmed and the movie started. You glanced at him hands coming together to clap silently showing you were just as excited though probably for the movie and not about him. Donnie didn’t think too hard about that though, not letting anything ruin his mood even his own thoughts. He took off his gloves thinking in the dark you wouldn’t notice, and hoping for the off chance of reaching for popcorn at the same time. What?! Donnie liked all the clichés! And it happened more than once and each time it felt like electricity, you were too occupied with the movie though. Hardly noticing while it was all he could notice, your fingers were so soft!

Once the popcorn was finished Donnie started to actually watch the movie. Every now and then he’d glance over and watch your reactions of awe and wonder at the big screen. He would smile to himself, and go back to watching until he felt a nagging thought. He wanted to make a move, flirt back like you had at the bakery. He took a deep breath and moved his arm to go around your shoulders, and you leaned in closer his way almost immediately. Mission accomplished!!!!!!! And he was chewing on his lower lip to keep from smiling like an idiot or worse squealing with excitement.

When the movie was done and the credits started rolling you slowly stood, stretching. The movie had been a long one but that just meant Donnie got even more time with you. “That was awesome!” You said as you turned to him, the purple turtle had quickly put on his gloves and replied, “yeah the cgi was incredible!” The two of you walked out of the theater, talking about favorite scenes and characters. “This was really fun Donnie!” You said thanking him once out on the sidewalk. “Thanks for coming with me I had an equally great time,” Donnie said unable to help his bright smile.

He breathed in through his nose again as he rallied his courage. “Can I get your number?” You asked holding out your phone with a slight blush dusting your cheeks. You had beat him to it!! Donnie laughed saying those exact words and you giggled and watched him type in his number. “I’ll see you later then, Y/n!” Donnie waved as you started walking backwards waving back and thanking him again for a great night. He watched as you turned and walked until you were out of view, taking a corner and disappearing behind a building.

Donnie had happy feet! And he jumped up fist bumping the air. “Fibonacci!!!” He practically hollered in victory, walking no skipping, the opposite way you went, entering an alleyway and shooting up to the sky, flying with his tech. He raced all the way home to the lair. “Well well well, look who it is,” Leo said as Donnie entered the abandoned subway. “Surprise surprise,” Donnie waved his hands sarcastically, as he took off his gloves. “Where were you brother of mine?” Leo questioned coming up and wrapping an arm around Donnie’s neck. “Just out and about,” Donnie droned as he tried walking to his lab. Then his phone buzzed and he immediately pulled it out forgetting about Leo.

‘Made it home!! Hope you did too, just in case you hadn’t heard me the first two times 😂 I had an amazing time 😊 goodnight Donnie’ - y/n 💜

Leo gasped into Donnie’s ear and the purple turtle turned dark green. “YOU!” Leo said loudly catching the attention of Mikey and Raph. “SHUT UP!” Donnie screeched as he tried to push Leo away but Leo’s grip only tightened and he grabbed for Donnie’s phone. “Guys you won’t believe what I just saw!!” Leo said goading his brothers to come see. Mikey was up and bouncing towards them in seconds, “ohhhh what, what is it?!” he said as he watched his older brothers struggle. Donnie trying to keep his phone away while Leo trying and succeeding in capturing it. “LEO!” Donnie hollered and stomped his foot down on his blue brother’s.

Leo yelped hopping on one foot and dropping Donnie’s phone. Donnie lunged for it but Mikey was faster, and as soon as he got the phone he was off running to Raph who was laughing at the whole thing. “MIKEY!” Donnie yelled running after him telling him to stop. This went on for a while before all his brothers knew of Y/n and he ended up confessing about the amazing date he had just went on. All brothers listened intently, teasing him here and there but ultimately super proud of their genius brother. “So when we meeting???” Leo said curiously, “and when are you gonna tell them you’re a turtle?” Raph said eyebrows going up.

“Problems for a later time,” Donnie said waving his hand and with his phone back in his possession he headed for his room. He realized he had yet to text you back!

‘I made it home too, sorry for the late reply my brothers bombarded me 💀, we should definitely have another night like tonight 😁 goodnight Y/n!’ - donnie

He landed on his bed, closed his phone and rolled around too excited to do anything else. He couldn’t wait to take you out for another date. Hoping this would become a recurring occurrence in his life. He couldn’t wait and immediately started thinking up other date ideas, kicking his feet out happily.

[fandomwriterlover]

Hi I have a request? How about a two one-shots of a love potion Involving Macaque and Wukong? Like one involving just wukong and (female)s/o while collecting the rings and the other just Macaque and (female)s/o during season 2?

Lol I have no idea if this where u ask for requests so sorry if I got the wrong area and it can just be one story u pick which one sounds more appealing lol😁

(I think I'll split in two. Love potion themes are so much fun!)

Love potion Sun Wukong with Fem!Reader (One Shot)

The third Ring of Samandhi that were placed in the main lantern was actually a decoy, a fake one. For generations, your family of traditional pharmacists and potion makers has kept the ring for safeskeeping; so it was obvious that you would be stolen by the gang.

The main room where the ring was placed in an altar, at the end of an long hallway, it has traps by presure on the floor and wires; once activates little sacks and vials of paralizers, sleepy drug and more would appear and sway to hit the intruders. MK, Pigsy and Sun Wukong were across the door, and they were aware of the traps; the Monkie Kid almost got hit by a medium size poison sack at the first step. This time the Monkey Kind decided to step in and cross the alley. He did it fast with confidence, since there's no poison that can take him down because of his inmortality. Yeah, he bragged about it. And that made him step on one of the traps and a small sack hitted him on the face!

"It's fine!" The monkey said at the gasp of the other two from afar, while he was rubbing his eyes; the powder were in his eyes and it itches a little. "There's no poison that can kill an inmortal..."

"Monkey King!" MK hissed in a soft tone, alarming him. "There's somebody there!"

You were schedule to watch the Ring many day per week, and tonight was your shift. You usually study medicine notes while you're on the watch, and that night you were asleep in the bench of the room at the othre side beneath a fire lamp. The monkey noticied you and tiptoed to the wall where the ring were hanging. It should be easy... Then, he felt his head lighter and dizzy. He shook his head brushing off this feeling and went straigth to grab the golden ring. Before he could place one finger on the shiny object he saw the reflection... Your reflection. The Monkey King's eyes averted the objective to look straight at you.

"What-is-he-doing?" Pigsy said concerned and worried at the sudden change of the monkey's behaviour. MK was also concerned. He used his golden vision. There wasn't much noticeable... Just the few sacks. The poisonous of course had a skull label, but... why the one that hitted the Monkey King had a heart? Both of them relaized at once that that wasn't poison.

Yes, the drug that was already in the Great Sage system was kicking in hard. He was captivated by your presence as you were sleeping sitting at the bench laying againts the wall, and the lights of the flame of the lamp made it look like you were basking in a golden light. He felt the urge to approach you, slowly... The closer he was the warmer he was feeling from his head and chest; and his heart was pounding strongly and hard. He was near of you, the enough to see your face. He kneeled to see it closely as you were breathing softly. You looked so peaceful, so calm, so...

"So beautiful..." the monkey couldn't help but to whispered that thought of you...

"PsssT! Monkey King!" MK and Pigsy hissed and whipered hard at the monkey. That managed to get his attention, and they gestured at the ring many times. "Get the Ring./What are you doing?!/It's right there!/Get the ring!/Hurry!/Come on!

For a moment the Monkey King remembered the objective and stepped back from you. He shook his head and walked at the wall where the golden object was... Oh, you just murmmured in you sleep! That angelical sound made the king to turn around at you again, placing his hand on his heart dramatically. MK and Pigsy facepalmed at the same time.

MK had enough! Don't ask how, but he crossed the hallway in ablast and grabbed the mentor before he touched you. He was startled but concerned. "When did you-- You dodged all the traps?" No he didn't... He was making a brave face while the paralizer was kicking in slowly. He pulled the monkey to the wall. "We... Have to... get... the ring!" And he grabbed the ring with his free hand. But it slipped and fell making a metalic sound.

"STOP!" You woke up startled, getting up and taking out a knife that you had. You pointed out at the intruders. You were still groogy so you couldn't belive your eyes that your were in front of the legendary Monkey King. "What the-- What it's going on here?!" You scanned the scene fast: the traps, the kid on the floor... The monkey stared at you at the same way a mortal would stare at a paradise or the Celestial Realm. You were awake, moving... He could finally see what your sleepy eyelids were concealing: the most shiny and alluring eyes he ever saw. "State your business here!"

"... You." Sun Wukong said with no hesitation and smiling. You rose an eyebrown confused, while the boy gave a expression that said 'Are you serious?'. "We came here for a reason... Can't remember what is it--" Pigsy let out a "What?!" from his spot. "But the moment I saw you, I just knew it: I was meant to meet you!" You were taked back by this unusual confession, your eyes met MK who pointed at the little sack with the heart label. It made sense! This is why you don't let your dumb cousin to set up the traps! "Huh, Great Sage?" You decided to talk to him calmly and put down your knife. "I belive you've been intoxicated--"

"I sure I am, by your stunning beauty~" he declared still looking at you loveling, stepping close to you. "Belive my words, my fairest lady: I've seen all wonders in the world, the magnificent views of the Celestial Realm-- Even met Yang Asha herself. But all of them are eclipsed by your divine presence~" Now it was your heart that was racing. The Great Sage's words was making you blush. You KNOW that he was like this because of the love potion, but STILL! "Pl-please, I am not worthy for such compliments..." "There's not enough words to describe woman I love~" WOW, he just said the big words! "A divine being-- A QUEEN!" he said with emphasis waving his tail, holding at last your hands, as you felt your face warm and the heart racing. "A goddess of love to worship...💗" He was just a inch away from your face, his golden eyes never averting yours.

"Excuse me." Pigsy tapped his shoulder, and HIT HIM WITH ONE SLEEP DRUG SACK! The pig picked up the unconscious monkey and the paralized kid, one for each arm. Before leaving he asked you directly. "Huh, how long will the love potion last on him?" You were still standing in shock, but you answered at him. "It's a simple powner dosis, so it would last for an-- an hour or so?" The swine thanks you and took their leave. You were still blushing and trambling. How are you going to explain to the matriarc that you were courted by THE Monkey King?! Aaand that you've lost the ring.

Hours passed, the gang had collected the final ring and were happy about it. Sun Wukong was already waking up with a pounding in his head that was a pain. "Oww-- Hey, what hitted me?!"

"I did!" The chef confessed annoyed. "Just in time before you proposed to the ring's keeper!" "Propose?!" The monkey was confused by that statement. "Yeah. 'Oh, I love you! Oh, I worship you~' YOU ALMOST GOT US CAUGHT!!"

"whaa-- Now, come on, that is ridiculous! I wouldn't say I love someone that I don't even know it's name . .. Would I?" He asked dizzy and still in pain from the inside of his head. Eventually having flashbacks about you and how he behave like a simp.

He should have asked your name

[seresinhangmanjake]

Wants and Needs: Part 5

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Summary: Jake “Hangman” Seresin sets his sights on you, Rooster’s best friend, but it doesn’t take long for you to understand what type of man the cocky, blond pilot is. Unfortunately for Hangman, you have no interest in a womanizer. 

Wanrings/Notes: This is very similar to my other fic because that one was basically a wip of what this turned out to be. 

Also: Hangman’s ego, fluff, flirting, protective angry Rooster. 

All parts in Masterlist

Words: 845

Part 5: Good Morning?

The kiss on your forehead was what stirred you, and the mumble you made in response melded with the chuckle of a deeper voice.  

“Morning,” he said, pressing more kisses to your skin; your cheek, your exposed shoulder, and then your lips. A warm touch brushed stray hairs out of your face. “Coffee?”

You lazily gestured in the general direction of the kitchen before your arm flopped back to your side. “Far left cabinet, above the maker.”

He kissed you again, then tossed the covers off his body and slipped his boxers on. “Be right back,” he said, his heavy footsteps making their way to the door that he softly opened and closed. But the kind care he put into trying not to disturb you further was immediately overpowered by a jarring “What the fuck!”

You shot up, grogginess sprouting concern, and you rushed to wrap the bedsheet around your body and hurry into the kitchen. The sight before you stopped you in your tracks and seized all blood flow. “Shit.”

Rooster sat in one of the stools at your kitchen island, newspaper spread out on the marble countertop and your ‘my best friend is a pilot’ mug in his hand, filed to the brim with the black liquid. His jaw was slack, but brows could not possibly have been more turned down in the center. The glare he gave Hangman would have been enough to shatter you, but Jake stood still, a strong wall of a man who had no issue maintaining eye contact with your best friend.

“What the actual fuck is this,” Rooster growled, finally directing his stare at you, forcing the sudden urge to clutch the sheet and wrap it tighter around your body.

“Rooster—,” Jake began, but was instantly interrupted by your friend jumping out of his chair.

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Rooster pointed a finger at Jake as he stomped towards him, but you snuck your body between them before Rooster could get too close, placing the hand not holding up the sheet on his chest to try and stop him.

“Bradley,” you pleaded. “Breathe.”

And breathe he did, just not the way you wanted. His chest expanded greatly with every heavy, heated inhale. His eyes flared from the streaming sunlight through your window reflecting off of them. A raging bull was a before you, waiting to be taunted further. “Bastard.”

“Stop it,” you snapped, shoving him until he fell back a step. “What are you even doing here?”

“That’s what you think is most important right now!”

“This is my house!”

The dip of his eyebrows eased when he recognized the anger in your eyes. He never liked to make you mad; it rarely did him any good when you had no problem putting him in his place. “You have the good coffee,” he said. “And I wanted to talk to you, so I used the spare key and thought I would wait until you got up.”

Jake crossed his arms from behind you, and it was only that simple movement that had Brad’s death glare back on him. It shocked you that Hangman managed to keep his mouth shut. The cocky arrogance you knew he possessed could have reared its ugly head in a half-second in response to Brad’s outburst, but he was holding himself back.

“Did you get drunk after we left,” Rooster asked you. “Did he take advantage of y—”

“Jesus, no!” you shouted, slapping at the side of his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? Am I not old enough, mature enough, to decide to be with him on my own?”

He scoffed. “Be with him? That sounds like whatever this—” he motioned between you and Jake “—is, will be more than a one-time thing?”

“That’s because it isn’t a one-time thing, jackass,” Jake said, and you shot him a look of warning.

Rooster’s eyes narrowed. “That better be a lie.”

“Bradley—”

“That better be a goddamn lie, Y/N!”

You recoiled at his shout, but regaining your backbone, said, “It’s not a lie!”

Seconds passed, achingly quiet, then Rooster shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I do not approve of this,” he spit out through gritted teeth.

“Brad—”

“And neither will Uncle Mav.”

His words stunned you into silence and wasn’t until the front door to your house slammed closed that you snapped out of it. Muscled arms wrapped around your body from behind as a kiss fell onto the crook where your neck met your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered against your skin.

“Don’t be,” you sighed, and twisted in his arms until you could lay your head against his bare chest. “He’s out of line. We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not going to dump me because of this?”

You looked up at him and ran a finger softly along the line of his jaw, and when that fingertip reached the middle of his chin, you gently pulled his face forward and kissed him.

“No,” you said. “So don’t worry.”