#get out of the beige box boy

[beetroot-merchant]

W E ' V E B E E N T R Y I N G T O C O N T A C T Y O U A B O U T Y O U R C A R ' S E X T E N D E D W A R R A N T Y

[attapullman]

Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!

robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew

“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.

You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago. 

Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”

“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.

The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups. 

As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.

And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?

Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place. 

You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.

“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”

“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.

Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.

When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.

You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”

But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street. 

From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves. 

At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.

“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect. 

The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.

“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”

His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.

Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”

Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.

The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye. 

Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious. 

His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks. 

As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug. 

The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.” 

A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him. 

You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.

“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?” 

The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”

You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.

“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”

A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.

You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”

To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.

Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”

By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.

He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen. 

“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.

Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.

Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.

His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.

Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen. 

Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.

He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace. 

“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.

Your mouth can’t open fast enough.

You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.

Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.

When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”

His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”

“You.”

That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”

The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.

“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.” 

You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?

You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.

As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.

You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.

“Did you still want your tea?” 

He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”

Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both. 

When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door. 

Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.

Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.

You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.

When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.

You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.

see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting

taglist: @callsign-mongoose

[fairytaleendingss]

Room For One More?

Chapter 1

Summary: After a sudden eviction from your home, your friend Mary puts you in contact with her high school friends, James, Sirius and Remus who just so happen to be in need of a roommate. However, living with a group of boys you’ve never met before proves to be more complicated than you expected; especially when they’re all so attractive.

CW: None I don’t think.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

——

To say that life had been crazy lately would be putting it lightly. You had only just moved to the city six months ago, in pursuit of a career you were still yet to achieve, got landed with an office job that you were only barely qualified for, and the eviction notice on the door of your shitty downtown apartment was just the icing on the cake.

For a good few days it seemed like your world was caving in around you as you tried to collect yourself and figure out the next steps. In a city like London, real estate was scarce, not to mention expensive, and you were still working to pay off your student loans.

It was only two days before you were set to be kicked out when your new friend, Mary stepped in and saved the day.

You met Mary at your new office job and she’d been somewhat of a saving grace from the beginning.

She had been a splash of colour in a sea of black suits and beige blouses. She’d been quick to introduce herself, inviting you to join her for lunch on your first day, during which she caught you up on all the ins and outs of office politics. The two of you had become fast friends, something you were extremely grateful for.

And you found yourself even more grateful for her, as her car pulled into the driveway of the apartment building you were about to call your new home.

“How do you know these guys again?” You asked, glancing up at the red brick structure through the passenger window.

“We all went to high school together,” She explained. “I know them really well, trust me they’re great guys.”

You believed her. She’d never given you a reason not to. But still, moving into a household with three strange men that you’ve never met, is bound to be daunting nonetheless.

“And you’re 100% sure they’re okay with me moving in? I mean, they don’t even know me!”

She only giggled. “Don’t be silly! They’re completely on board. They’ve been looking for a new roommate since their other friend Peter moved out a month ago to get a place with his girlfriend, Sybil. They were just about to put up an ad on Craigslist, for heavens sake. Trust me, you’re doing them a favour. If I love you, they’ll love you too.”

You nodded at her but your heart still hummed unsurely in your chest. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

After a treacherous journey up the narrow staircase with boxes in hand, you arrived at the door to the apartment. Mary was behind you, lugging a suitcase full of your clothes. You wished, for a moment that her friends at least lived in a building that had an elevator. You erased that thought from your mind a moment later, when you remembered that these people were doing you a massive favour. Besides, you were hardly in a position to complain.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. When it swung open you had to make a conscious effort to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Standing in front of you was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. He was fair and lean with long strands of dark hair fanning his face. He was chiseled in a way that made him look delicate, almost doll-like but he also had tattoos lining his arms and chest, which you could see poking out from beneath his white t-shirt. He was leaning against the doorframe, effortlessly cool, looking down at you with a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“Hey there gorgeous. You must be the new roommate. I’m Sirius.”

You peered up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond to this man who had the face of a Greek God. And did he just call you gorgeous? You weren’t sure what you were expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Um, hi,” you stumbled awkwardly. Your hands felt clammy even just looking at this guy, how the hell are you supposed to live with him? “I’m y/n.”

His grin only widened “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ugh, stop flirting with her Sirius! And move out of the way, this stuff we’re carrying is heavy you know.”

You’d almost forgotten Mary was there until she’s stepping forward, shoving past Sirius who was blocking the doorway, and entering the apartment.

“Sorry hun, just trying to make conversation,” Sirius teased, stepping aside gently to let you in.

The place was bigger than you expected. Not huge but definitely comfortable, and better decorated. The picture you’d created in your imagination could only be described as a “bro cave” with bean bags on the floor and minimal furnishings. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the place is rather nice and homey, with comfortable leather furniture and a few framed artworks on the walls.

“Well, welcome home,” Sirius said, following you into the living room. “I can’t take any credit for the interior design, unfortunately. That was all Remus. Speaking of, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you.”

Sirius padded off down the hall, making his way to one of the rooms and banging heavily on the door.

“Remus! The new roommate is here! Don’t be rude and come and meet her!”

The boy that emerged was equally as attractive as Sirius. He was taller than the first boy, with a mop of sandy hair and dark, piercing eyes. He wasn’t as effortlessly cool as Sirius, he was more lanky and hunched in posture, but he had a sort of nerdy charm about him that was very endearing. He was dressed in a thick woollen jumper and his hair was mattered. He blinked up at Sirius, like he hadn’t quite caught up with the situation yet.

“What’s going on?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “Our new roommate is here! Come and say hello!”

He peered out of the doorway. Looking in either direction before his eyes landed on you. Not quite sure what to do with yourself, you sent him an awkward wave.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” he replied in return, with a tight lipped smile. Then he turned back to Sirius.

“Could you go away now please? I was having a nap.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

There door was abruptly slammed in his face.

You stood in the living room, holding a box to your chest awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable about the interaction. Sirius could apparently tell, and was quick to jump to your aid.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said dismissively. “He’s just in a mood. He’s a med student and all the studying is driving him wild at the moment. He’ll come good after he gets a bit of sleep. Now, how about I show you to your room?”

He directed you down the hallway to a door at the end. Inside, you could already see Mary hanging up your clothes in the wardrobe.

“So this is you,” Sirius muttered, gesturing to the space like a magician revealing his assistant had not, in fact, been sawed in half. Then he sent you another flirtatious smile, something you were quickly learning was a signature of his.

“I’ll leave you girls to it but just shout if there’s anything you need. Although, if you want someone to help carry boxes, I’d recommend waiting until James gets home later on. He’s the athletic one of the three of us. And let me tell you those stairs are a killer.”

You chuckled, a genuine smile overtaking your face for the first time in this whole experience.

“Thanks Sirius. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he drawled, giving you a wink.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay Sirius. Thank you but you can go now. We have a lot of unpacking to do here.”

Once Sirius had departed, you and Mary got to work on unpacking your things. Luckily for you, Peter had left behind a bed frame and a few pieces of furniture in his move, a saving grace considering most of your stuff had come with the previous apartment. You still had a mattress strapped to the roof of Mary’s car that needed bringing in, but like Sirius had said, Mary insisted that you wait for the mysterious James to return from work to help you carry any of the heavier items inside (With the way the others talked about him, you could only imagine he must be a superhero). Instead you busied yourself with unpacking your random assortment of trinkets collected over the years.

“So how are you feeling about the place?” Mary pried, unpacking a few shoe boxes into the bottom of the closet.

“It seems alright,” you admitted. “To be honest, I was a little nervous going into this but Sirius seems nice. I think he and I will get along.”

Mary smiled. “Oh good! I knew you’d like it. And just wait until you get to know the other boys better too. You’ll fit right in! I’m sure of it.”

You have her an anxious smile. “I really hope you’re right.”

—

It was a few hours later, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

“Honey! I’m home!” A playful voice boomed down the doorway.

You slowly emerged from your room to greet your final roommate. The guy was visibly buff and wearing a mud-covered jersey. He had matted tuft of thick dark curls and round glasses that balanced on the edge of his nose.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hi. I’m y/n. I’m your new roommate.”

He looked up curiously before his expression morphed into a dazzlingly charming smile. He began to approach you and you held out a hand for him to shake. He bypassed the gesture all together, instead choosing to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug.

You were caught a little off-guard at first but tentatively hugged him back, heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the muscles of his biceps flex against you.

Pull yourself together!! You thought.

As he pulled away, he looked down at you, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. He smiled widely, reminding you somewhat of a playful puppy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed. “Mary’s told me so much about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your own face as you looked up at him. You really liked James, you decided.

“How have you been settling in so far?” He continued.

“Pretty well, I suppose. I’ve done most of my unpacking now.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Well if you need help with anything, let me know. I’d be happy to assist.”

You grimaced. “Actually there is one thing you might be able to help me with?”

He raised a brow expectantly.

“How do you feel about mattress transportation?”

—

Manoeuvring a queen sized mattress up three floors of narrow stairs proved to be a challenging task. But somehow, between the two of you, you managed it.

By the time James actually wrestled the mattress on your bed-frame, you were just about ready to collapse on top of it.

Mary, unfortunately, had found the whole display hilarious, especially the moment where you’d lost your grip and send the mattress sliding down the stairs back to the first floor. So instead of offering to help, she’d taken the opportunity to film the entire ordeal on her phone. You expected it would be gracing social media by the end of the evening.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done!” James exclaimed as he finally dropped the material onto the bed-frame.

You chuckled. “Yeah! I mean it only took an hour and a half.”

James smiled and checked the watch on his wrist.

“It’s getting late and I really should shower. But how about we order pizza afterwards. We could have dinner and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Mary, darling, you’re invited too of course.”

The girl looked between the two of you, smiling playfully. Then she shot you a look.

“Thanks for the offer Jamie but I actually have some stuff I need to get done back at home. You guys enjoy though.”

She sent you a wink as she went and your eyes widened.

“I’m going to go wash off, but there’s a take out menu on the fridge,” James said. “Pick out whatever you want. My shout.”

—

A short while later you found yourself sat on the loveseat, a plate of pizza in your lap while Sirius and James sat side by side on the couch, bickering about the most recent episode of the Bachelor. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched on.

They argued in a way that was firm but affectionate. You could tell that they were particularly close and had clearly known each other a long time.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Sirius exclaimed, waving his piece of pizza in the air for emphasis. “Jennifer was such a bitch! She totally deserved to be sent home.”

James gasped in mock offence. “No way! He should’ve kept her. They had a special connection.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius blurted. “All she did was talk about herself. She barely even gave him the time of day.”

“I disagree! She was playing hard to get. Girls only do that when they like someone!” James stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t contain your snort at the comment.

Sirius turned to you then, a smirk adorning his gorgeous face. “Well, lucky for us, we now have a girl here to settle agreements such as these. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname. “If I’m being honest, I have to agree with Sirius. Jennifer was kind of a bitch.”

Sirius cheered and James held a hand to his chest dramatically.

“Well you’re both wrong,” James joked. “We must have been watching two different shows.”

Sirius scoffed. “Nah, mate. You just have a terrible radar when it comes to girls. I mean, you’ve been chasing the same girl since you were fifteen and she’s still shown you no interest.”

Your eyebrows raised at that one. “Wait what? I feel like I’ve missed a chapter here.“

“She’s just a friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a friend you’ve been in love with since third form.”

James sighed.

“There’s this girl, Lily, in our friend group,” he began to explain, looking rather bashful. “And I’ve kind of been into her for a while but she always turns me down.”

You grimaced, clicking your tongue in sympathy. “That sucks. But hey, If she’s managed to keep your interest for all these years then she must really be special. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

James smiled gently. “I’m sure you will soon. She and Mary are quite close.”

Sirius face lit up suddenly at that. “Actually guys, that reminds me. The band is playing a gig on Saturday and everyone’s coming. You should join us y/n!”

“Hold on, since when are you in a band?” You queried. “I thought you were a bartender.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m a bit of both! Bartender by night and lead singer of ‘Snakes and Lions’ by… well also by night I guess.”

“Basically, he plays in a band on the weekends,” James clarified.

“Yeah, and soon, we’ll be world famous!”

“Well I’d love to come and see you play,” you uttered.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“What’s a date?”

You all looked up to see that Remus had finally emerged from his room. He looked tired and a little disheveled. Although you supposed that was the only way you’d had a chance to see him so far.

“Rem, mate! Come join us! We got Italian sausage just for you!”

Sirius gestured to one of the pizza boxes on the table and Remus nodded, grabbing a plate to fill.

“We were just telling y/n about Sirius’ gig this weekend.”

Remus looked up at you for a moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then he straightened himself up and came to stand before you awkwardly.

“You’re um… you’re in my seat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

You shot up from the spot, feeling rather mortified by the interaction.

“It’s okay, you can come sit here!” James stated, sliding further towards the armrest of the sofa and patting the spot in between himself and Sirius.

You sat down tentatively, but Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder which helped a bit in easing the nerves.

You found yourself glancing over at Remus. He seemed quiet as he munched on his pizza. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of frustration towards him. He’d been nothing but rude to you since you arrived and you had no clue why.

“So tell us, y/n. What brought you to London?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Sirius’ question.

“Well, I just finished my degree not too long ago and I decided I needed a change, I suppose. London has a lot of good opportunities.”

“What did you study?” James asked, leaning his head in his hand as he looked down at you.

“Literature actually. I want to be a writer.”

Sirius brows shot up. “Really? That’s great. You should talk about that with Remus. He loves books.”

“Hmm?” The boy looked up then, as if having been lost in his own world, before brought back by the sound of his name.

“Y/n studied literature at university.”

He glanced over at you, only looking mildly interested. “Oh, that’s good.”

Then he turned his wrist glancing down at the watch that he wore. “It’s getting late. If you all don’t mind, I think I will finish dinner in my room. I have a lot of work to do.”

You frowned at that. Had you done something to upset him? Why was he so eager to get away from you?

“Alright mate. We’ll see you in the morning,” James muttered, oblivious to the issue.

Remus nodded at him before getting up slowly and sauntering back into his room.

James continued munching on his pizza happily but Sirius clearly noticed the way you tensed at the boy’s exit. He leaned in closely, speaking in a low tone so only you could hear.

“Sorry about him. He really isn’t like this usually. I’ll have a talk with him.”

You sighed. “No no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

You really didn’t want to be a point of contention between these boys.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble-“

“No it’s fine,” you shook your head. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired as well. I might turn in for the evening.”

James looked over at you with gentle eyes. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Once you got to your room, you lay back heavily against the door, sighing. You considered the events of the day. There had been few hiccups but you decided then and there that you’d do whatever you could to move past them.

You got along well with James and Sirius seemed friendly. It was just Remus who was yet to warm up to you.

As you got ready for bed, your mind ran over the interactions that you’d had so far and wondered what might be the root of his frustrations.

Maybe things will be different tomorrow, you thought, as you settled in for the night.

[xoxochb]

hiii!!

can i please request apollo!reader who is kinda like the head healer or something x percy jackson? (they are the same age please!)

so, he's been a regular at the infirmary bcs of all the...yk he's been in, so reader gets kind of annoyed that she sees him in the infirmary practically every two three times a week

and percy is like “fix me, i guess?”

⋆·˚ ༘ * a band aid and a kiss

warnings: mentions of injuries

pairing: percy jackson x head healer! daughter of apollo

“no, no, no”

you shake your head and walk back to the previous camper you had been healing. you instruct them to be careful on their journeys and send them out of the infirmary. percy jackson follows you around like he’s never been here before- which is extremely untrue, he takes visits to the infirmary at least three times a week, a new cut, a new wound every time. how does this boy always get hurt? It’s like he does this on purpose!

“you’re gonna let me bleed out?” he gasps

“it’s a small cut. get a bandaid and leave”

“It’s more than a small cut, I’m getting dizzy and I see stars. I think I’m dying, sunshine”

you huff “sit down then”

percy smiles in victory and gladly takes a seat on one of the many infirmary beds, holding out his finger to show you the microscopic cut, not even bleeding either. nonetheless you open a drawer filled with varieties of bandaids, when you begin to pick up the regular beige ones percy freaks, hands frantically waving to stop you

“no, no! I want the iron man one”

you roll your eyes. “I should have known. you act like a child you get a children’s band aid” you pull out the marvel band aid box and search for an iron man

once you find it you unwrap the packaging then you take the band aid and wrap it around his finger where his imaginary cut is placed

“where’s my kiss, sunshine?”

you mutter curses under your breath and place his band aid-covered finger to your lips

“are you satisfied now?”

“I guess. I think I should stay here a little longer though. y’know, just incase I start getting dizzy again”

“yeah, don’t want you passing out or anything” you play into his nonsense

“yeah, you know what I mean. but maybe another kiss will help and I could be out of your way”

you kiss his forehead

“thanks, sunshine. I think I need a kiss here now” he puts a finger to his lips and your cheeks go pink

“why there?”

he shrugs. “so I don’t throw up”

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m nauseous. you let all your patients suffer like this?”

“only boys name percy jackson”

“I’m waiting”

your face turns red this time when you realize he is indeed serious about the kiss

“you really want this?”

“never wanted anything else”

you mentally prepare yourself and place a small peck to his lips. he frowns

“what was that?”

“that was your kiss”

“one more” he tangles a hand in your hair when his hand reaches the back of your head and he kisses you longer this time

maybe all those visits had been worth it

[kaiserthread]

shopping spree

clothes/accessories the bllk boys buy you! characters: sae, kaiser, reo content: pro players, established relationship, f!reader, fluff lowkey my first time writing anything romantic so this might be ooc, was giggling soooooo hard while writing this part 2 here!

ITOSHI SAE - wool coat

took one look at you shivering and thought NO

buys you a nice wool coat for the winter months

he’s always giving you his when you guys are out together, might as well have your own for when he’s away 

he sprays a bit of his cologne on it when he knows he’s going to be away from you for a while

sae worries about you, he hates when you're upset, hates when you get hurt, and most of all he hates seeing you in the cold and shivering because you refuse to wear a jacket that isn’t his. this brings him to his current predicament, he’ll have to leave you to go to training camp in the winter. “just don’t go, sae. who’s jacket am i going to wear?” you whine dramatically, draping yourself over the pile of clothes he's currently placing into his travel bag. “get off, I need those.” sae scolds. “and you have your own jackets.” “but they’re so much better when they're yours.” you pout at him. he sighs, knowing he’s already lost this battle. the morning he leaves is gloomy. he leaves early, waking you to kiss you goodbye and shushing you back to sleep. as you’re leaving you find a note on the hall closet, sae’s handwriting reminding you to grab a jacket. you open the closet to find a brand new wool coat, almost identical to his. you pull it on and catch the familiar scent of his cologne. reaching into the pocket you find a handwritten note that reads: for whenever you miss me, i love you darling

MICHAEL KAISER - jewelry

the possessive type honestly, takes note of your preferred metal and buys you a thin chain with a delicate ‘M’ on it 

a charm bracelet with a blue rose charm

a dainty sapphire anklet to show off during the warm summer months

takes every excuse to buy you some new bling

michael comes home after practice with a familiar looking gift bag. he sets it down on the coffee table and kisses your cheek in greeting, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sits down next to you on the couch. “is that for me?” you gesture to the bag in front of you, “what’s the occasion?” you ask as michael leans against you, “practice wasn’t as long as usual so I got to come home to you earlier.” he reaches for the bag and takes out a slim box. you open it and find a sleek new bracelet, perfectly complimenting the others stacked on your wrist. “thank you mihya, it’s beautiful!” you exclaim, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. “but seriously, did i forget something? you can tell me.” he pushes himself up to kiss you, his breath warm on your lips as he whispers, “no my love, let me spoil you, it’s the least you deserve.”

MIKAGE REO - louboutin red bottoms

okayyyyy go rich boy!

but seriously he wants to give you the best of everything including something as simple as a pair of heels

so he buys you a pair of 100mm pumps in both the beige and black colorway

watched you struggle walking in them for .5 seconds before putting in an order for a pair with a lower heel

“are you sure you’re comfortable in those? let me order a pair with a lower heel.” reo is seriously worried that you’re going to trip and break your face trying on the gift he bought you. “babe seriously, it’s fine. i’ll break them in, put your phone down, are you seriously ordering another pair?!” you exclaim, moving over towards him to try to grab the phone out of his hand. reo is having none of it, taking advantage of the fact that your new heels are throwing you off balance to run off into the ensuite bathroom to place the order. he walks back into the room to find you sitting on the edge of your shared bed, arms crossed and pouting. he moves in front of you to kiss the pout off your lips, “angel don’t worry about it, that money is nothing to me. i want you to be comfortable.”

[yournightmary]

you should write something where reader is a primary teacher, and ellie is a volunteer/fill in music teacher :D they meet and romance happens or something (i’m bad with words 😀) <3

Play Date | E.W.

content warning:: fem!reader, I guess dealer!Ellie but not really?, bad writing

AN:: not proofread because i’d rather shoot myself than read my own writing. I’m so sorry if it’s bad but i’ve tried my best😔 also no idea hot to tittle things

Whoever told you that being a daycare volunteer is a good idea was wrong- on many, many levels may I add.

You always thought that kids were just cute tiny humans but that changed with your first day at the daycare in Jackson. Most of the kids were boys, there were maybe three girls total. And you never even took into consideration that fall just started, so did every kind of colds and sicknesses possible.

What’s worse than a snotty, nasty seven year old boy tugging on your shirt with his grimy hands? A whole room of them. You only took this job because Maria asked you to. She said something about you ‘wasting your potential by going on patrols’. And by potential she meant the fact that you can read, write and do basic math… sometimes.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You pushed the door of the daycare building open, furrowing your brows softly at the scratchy sound they’d made. It was almost winter, thankfully. Maria said you wouldn’t have to work once the snow falls, something about patrols not going out as often in bad weather. You shrugged off your jacket, hanging it on the wooden coat rack.

Before you could do anything else you’ve heard a knock on the door, immediately rolling your eyes in annoyance. You took your sweet time getting to it, muttering profanities under your breath.

“Daycare isn’t open until 7:30, sorry.” You opened the door with a sigh, your tone as cold as the outside air.

“Uh- Maria asked me to help you? She said to come here after 6:00 but- I uh, overslept.” Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the girl before you.

Ellie Williams. What the actual fuck?

You stared at her in disbelief, finally noticing the guitar in her hands. She scratched her neck nervously, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

“You gonna let me in?” You slapped yourself mentally, stepping away from the door. She walked in, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’.

Ellie placed her guitar against one of the many chairs, curiously looking around the daycare. She traced all of the drawings on the walls, wondering about the stories behind each of them.

“Why did Maria want you to help me?” You asked her after a while, sorting through all of the pencils and sharpening dull ones.

“That’s a funny story… I did something she didn’t like and this is my punishment, I guess- not that I don’t like you! I’m just… bad with kids.” Ellie stumbled over her words a little, looking everywhere but at you.

“Well, what did you do?” You raised your eyebrow, even if she wasn’t facing your way. You sighed softly before adding. “And don’t worry- this feels like a punishment to me too… and I volunteered.”

Ellie snickered before circling around some tables and sitting down next to you, grouping all the pencils by color and placing them in their assigned little boxes.

“She found out I was dealing.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, though you could hear the nervousness in her tone. “Weed, you know? Said ‘I’m corrupting Jackson’”

“Shit, you’ve been dealing?” You unintentionally raised your voice, turning your head to look at her with furrowed brows. She raised her head slowly, nodding with an anxious expression. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? I felt bad for nagging Dina and she didn’t want to tell where she gets it from.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped as she looked at you baffled, the pencil she was holding almost falling out of her hand.

“I didn’t know you smoked, sorry.” She muttered, not expecting the way you reacted.

“I don’t look the part, huh?” You looked down at your clothes, the white collar peeking out of your beige sweater and your brown pants cuffed nicely, even if it exposed your ankles to the cold winter air.

Ellie shook her head to the sides with a chuckle, taking the opportunity and looking you up and down. After a moment in awkward silence she spoke up, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“So why don’t you go on patrols? I mean, you’re really smart and stuff. You could be useful.” The way she said it sounded almost like an invitation, raising her brows slightly while glancing at you.

“Well, Maria said that I’m too smart for patrols. That I’ll be more useful as a teacher.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at the memory.

“That’s a shame… There’s this spot on one of the routes, you can see whole Jackson from there.” Ellie frowned softly, smacking her lips in disappointment.

You hummed in agreement, understanding what she was getting at. Maybe once winter comes Maria will let you go on a patrol with Ellie, just maybe. You placed a few sheets of paper in front of her, handing her a black pen.

“You can draw, right? Make some coloring pages, I gotta clean up before the kids come.” You said with a smile while standing up from the little table you were sitting at, not waiting for her answer.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The kids came in earlier than usual, the room filling up an hour after you opened. After some discussing Ellie decided to take care of the arts&crafts corner, playing a song on her guitar whenever she got a request while you taught the older kids how to multiply. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Ellie, looking away quickly when her eyes meet yours.

“Miss, why are looking at Ellie like that? Do you like like her?” You hushed the girl with furrowed brows, your cheeks burning slightly.

“Keep your eyes on your paper, Maya.” You muttered, tapping your finger against the worksheet you prepared for her. Why were kids so nosy?

You glanced at Ellie only to find her already looking at you, rolling her eyes annoyed. You giggled quietly, nodding your head in agreement. You quickly made sure everyone understood their assignments and walked over to Ellie, a smile appearing on her lips once she noticed you.

“How’s it going? Any troublemakers?” You asked jokingly, looking suspiciously at every kid with a smirk. Almost every one of them shook their head, letting you know they were on their best behavior.

“They’re all good, don’t worry.” Ellie said with a smile, admiring the way you quietly praised the boy who showed you the drawing he made today.

“That’s good to hear.” You nodded your head, stepping away with Ellie to a more secluded place. “They’re usually so much worse, maybe you’re a good influence.”

“Tell that to Maria.” Ellie snickered, tucking her short hair behind her ears. She scrunched her nose, glancing at the kids a little disgusted. “One of them sneezed into his hand and then grabbed mine though, have you ever thought about teaching manners?”

“Thank you so much for that idea, I’ve never thought about that!” You said sarcastically, pointing your finger at her while nodding your head. “But seriously, I’ve tried. They just don’t care.”

You sighed in defeat, dropping your hands to your sides. Ellie hummed in acknowledgment, looking at the kids coloring the drawings she made for them earlier.

“You play beautifully, by the way.” You nodded your head awkwardly, the words leaving your mouth before you could even think about them.

Ellie blushed lightly, biting back a grin that was threading to spread across her lips. “Thanks” She muttered quietly, looking away from you sheepishly.

She opened her mouth to add something but was cut off by some kid calling your name, asking you to help them with something. You shot her an apologetic smile before getting back to your space, leaving her with a bunch of prepubescent boy that already had teasing smirks on their faces, ready to poke fun at Ellie.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You waved goodbye to the last kid, their parent giving you a grateful smile. You closed the door with a sigh, turning around to face Ellie. She was ready to leave, guitar in one hand and the kids’ drawings she received in the other.

“Can I walk you home?” She asked quickly, looking at you with a hopeful expression. You nodded your head with a smile, putting on your jacket.

“So, how would you rate your first day here?” You locked up the daycare building, stuffing the keys into your pocket.

“Well… it wasn’t bad. I thought it would be much worse.” Ellie hummed, walking right beside you. You bumped your shoulder into hers, smirking softly.

“I gotta say- you being there made it a lot better than usual… and I’m not talking just about the help.” She looked away sheepishly, unable to stop her lips from curling into a smile.

You walked in comfortable silence, stealing sneaky glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Your hand brushed up against Ellie’s, making her gasp softly.

“Wow, you’re freezing.” She grabbed both of your hands into hers, standing in place. She rubbed her palms against the back of your hands, trying to warm you up.

“Yeah, it’s really cold today.” You giggled nervously, your cheeks heating up at her touch. She kept her grasp on one of your hands, swinging them softly between you as you walked. Smooth.

After a few minutes you finally got to your house, a little bummed out that your little trip is over. You stood before your front door, looking at Ellie shift from one foot to the other. She sighed, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“How about I pick you up tomorrow? We could walk together.” Ellie suggested, taking a deep breath between her words. She rocked on the balls of her feet slightly, waiting for your answer impatiently.

“Okay.” You nodded your head with a grin, your hand resting on the doorknob. Ellie’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately, her own lips curling into a smile.

“Alright, cool… does 6 sound good?” You hummed in agreement, your eyes locked onto Ellie’s.

You stood there for a moment, in awkward- but not negative- silence. Ellie tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, breaking the eye contact by looking around nervously. You took your chance, standing on your tip toes and pecking Ellie’s cheek. She froze up, her eyes widening. Fuck, did you read it wrong?

“I’m sorry- I dunno why I did that.” You started apologizing, waving your hands around. Ellie grabbed both of them, shaking her head to the sides.

“It’s okay! You surprised me, that’s all.” She tried to hold back her smile but failed miserably, her ears and cheeks turning beet red. “I’ll uh- I should head back.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded your head, sighing in relief at Ellie’s words. You gave her one last smile before walking into your home, closing the door softly.

You really hope the snow won’t come soon.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT😭

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Moving in with you and Everett was the most natural thing Bradley could have done. He felt loved and comfortable, and he hoped the two of you felt the same. But it took a night out drinking at the Hard Deck for you to mention some things that Bradley would have preferred you told him when you were sober.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Do you even own anything?" you asked, looking around Bradley's beige apartment. There was a stack of about ten moving boxes, two tubs of baseball cards, and some laundry baskets of clothing. "This is alarming. I'm marrying a man who doesn't own anything."

Bradley rolled his eyes at you. "I tried to tell you we didn't need Molly and Bob to come help. I could have done this with Everett." He had explained to you that his apartment came fully furnished and he had claimed that he didn't own much. But this was next level.

"Listen, Kitten," he added, wrapping his arms around you while Everett tossed Bradley's baseball caps into one of the laundry baskets. "I haven't really had a home since I was in high school. Barracks and fully furnished apartments were it." Your heart melted as he added, "Thanks for inviting me to live in your home."

"It's about to become yours, too. You can do whatever will make you happy and comfortable."

Just then Molly and Bob showed up, and Bradley's eyes lit up. "Everett!" he shouted. "We're getting a Phillies room!"

"What?" you sputtered, laughing at his excitement. "I didn't say-"

"A Phillies room!" Ev chanted, pumping his fists in the air.

"Shit," you whispered as Molly came up behind you and gave you a hug.

"This is it?" Bob asked, looking around at Bradley's stuff. "You needed my truck for five boxes?"

Bradley shrugged. "I tried to tell her not to bother calling you. Actually," he said, turning toward the refrigerator, "can you help me finish these beers?" He opened four bottles and handed two of them to Bob.

"Ladies?" Bob asked, but you both shook your heads. 

You and Molly dropped down onto the couch together while the three boys messed around in the kitchen, talking about this theoretical Phillies room. She looked a little worried, and you didn't like the way she had been chewing on her fingernails. "What's wrong?" you asked her softly. 

"Nothing," she replied immediately with a smile so fake, you were shocked she even tried it on you.

"Maybe Bob still believes that smile is genuine, but I know better. Tell me what's up."

She sighed and stretched out on your lap. "I'm so tired from work. I don't like the one douchebag doctor who works day shifts. He keeps giving me a hard time."

Your skin started to prickle. "What did he do? Did you tell Bob?"

"Yeah," she groaned, closing her eyes as you rubbed her shoulder. "I told Bob. The doctor just hates me and acts like I'm incompetent. No biggie. I know I do a good job."

It was a fight to calm your breathing down. "You actually save people's lives before the doctor even shows up in the room."

"See? You get it," she mumbled, and then she fell asleep while the guys loaded the Bronco and Bob's truck with Bradley's meager belongings. 

She slept until it was time for Bradley to lock his door one last time, and then she stood to use the bathroom. You popped up and pulled Bob into the completely empty bedroom, but before you could say anything, he was talking.

"Is Molly mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes sad and searching yours. 

"Oh, Bob," you gasped, reaching for his hand. "I don't think so. But she seems a little stressed out, doesn't she?"

He shrugged helplessly. "She keeps telling me it's because of work, but... I'm afraid she's been so quiet because she's tired of me."

You gasped. "No!" you whispered in a harsh voice. "She loves you!"

But he just looked at the floor and held tight to your hand until Bradley walked in and asked, "Ready to go?" If Bradley thought it was strange that you and Bob were holding hands and that you hugged him so tight he groaned, he didn't say anything.

"You'll tell me if she says anything to you?" Bob asked quietly as you and he followed Bradley out to the living room.

"Of course," you replied. But when Molly came out of the bathroom, she went right for Bob's arms, and they both looked immediately happier. They were fine. They had to be fine.

"Mommy? Can I ride in Bob's truck?" Everett asked, and Bradley looked scandalized.

"I thought you liked the Bronco!" he said, tossing his hands in the air in exasperation. 

"I do, Dad! But I wanted to see the truck, too!" You pressed your lips together as Bradley scooped Everett into his arms and kissed him.

"Okay, but you can't end up liking it as much as the Bronco, alright?" he asked, ushering everyone out of the apartment.

"I won't," Everett promised, and Bradley carried him down the stairs and out to the parking lot. Then he switched Everett's booster seat to the second row of Bob's pickup truck and helped him get buckled. 

When you and he were finally alone in the Bronco, you asked, "Going for dad of the year?"

He looked smug as he kissed you and said, "I'm already Coach of the year and fiancé of the year. I'm going for broke. Plus Bob drives like an elderly person. Ev will be so bored."

You laughed as he pulled out onto the main road and headed toward your house. His house too, now. "I was thinking about... changing my last name when we get married," you told him as he changed lanes.

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing at you with eager eyes as he drove. "Really?"

You groaned. "I still have Danny's last name, so I think I'd like to change it to Bradshaw if that's okay with you."

He reached for your hand immediately. "Hell yes! It's more than okay with me, Kitten! I just didn't want you to think I'd be upset if you didn't."

You wanted to say something about Everett. You really wanted to tell him about Danny and the child support and the fact that the papers had been served. But you just couldn't. Not right now. Because he was parking a little crookedly in the driveway and reaching for you, and you were in his arms and his lips were on yours.

You were moaning with his hand up your shirt and underneath your bra when you heard Bob's truck.

"Told you he drives slow," Bradley grunted. "Could have fucked you real quick before they got here."

You burst into laughter as you climbed out of the Bronco and went to get Everett. When he bounded toward Bradley, you heard him whisper, "It was fun, but not as fun as the Bronco."

Bradley tousled his hair and said, "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Then you and Molly sat on the porch steps with some cookies while the guys did all the work. 

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

A few days later, Bradley was waiting next to Bob in their matching Navy Waves uniforms. The first game of their season was about to start, but none of their promised spectators were there yet. "Did Molly get hung up at work?" Bradley asked him, checking the time again on his phone. 

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "I don't know, Rooster." He looked miserable. "I guess. Maybe."

"Well, did you text her?"

"Yeah. She didn't respond."

Bradley paused for a moment. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know," Bob sighed, running his hand over his mouth. But then Bradley saw you and Molly running from the parking lot with Everett leading the way.

"There they are!" Bradley said, lightly hitting Bob's arm before he headed toward Everett.

"Bradley! We got stuck in traffic!" Everett said, running into his hug. Bradley, Coach, Dad... he liked it when Everett called him any of those things. 

"We were missing you," Bradley replied, kissing the top of his head as you hustled up next. 

"Good luck!" you told him, kissing him softly as you were out of breath. Then Bradley realized that all three of you were wearing matching white and navy blue shirts. He looked at the back of Molly's as she headed toward Bob, and he noticed that it said Floyd along with the number 30 on it.

When he spun Everett around in his arms, he laughed. "Bradshaw shirts? I love it!" Then you turned for him as well, and he got such a lovely view of your ass in your denim shorts along with his name on your back. He'd be taking all of that clothing off you later.

"Go," you told him, turning back around and pushing him toward the dugout. "The game is about to start!"

Bradley collected Bob from Molly and dragged him down to the field for the game against the Army Rockets. Bob seemed to have perked up a bit, and after the national anthem was played, Bradley took to the pitcher's mound. 

After he struck out the first three batters in a row, he stood there, shocked. "Hell yeah, Bradshaw!" the left fielder said, as they switched to offense. Bradley batted fifth, and the Navy Waves managed to score one run. 

And the whole time, Bradley could hear Everett shouting for him. When he looked up into the stands, you waved to him. Every single time. He could even see the light catch your ring. "Fuck," he groaned, trying to stay focused on the game. But he was so in love with you now. He loved living at your house and using all your cool body washes in the shower. He loved the way you woke him up with kisses in the morning. He loved tucking Everett in at night. He loved making pancakes in your kitchen.

You were the best kind of distraction. As the game progressed, he kept pitching pretty well. By the last inning, The Waves were up by five runs, and even though Bradley was tired, he told the coaches he'd be able to finish the game. 

When he struck out the last batter in the ninth inning, Bradley heard Everett screaming over the rest of the fans. And he made sure to collect one of the game balls to take home.

"Good game!" Bob told him, gathering up his gear as he kept glancing over his shoulder at Molly like he was afraid she was going to vanish. 

"You too. Nice double play," Bradley replied, following him up into the bleachers. 

"I've never felt more patriotic than I do right now," Molly said with a laugh. "A military themed baseball game. Americana at its finest."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bradley replied with a laugh as he handed the baseball to Everertt. 

Molly rolled her eyes so hard, Bradley feared for her vision. "Really, Bradley? You're the most patriotic thing here." Then she cleared her throat and puffed out her chest and tried to imitate Bradley in a deeper voice. "Hi, I'm Bradley Bradshaw. And I'm in the Navy. And my dad was in the Navy, too." Bradley couldn't contain his laughter, and neither could you and Bob as she continued. "And my mom was red, white and blue striped. And I'm so patriotic, I could only propose on Independence Day. And I'm going to rename my son Everett the Bald Eagle."

Bradley was doubled over in laughter. "You're obnoxious," he told Molly, but she just smirked at him.

"Where's the lie?" she asked, snuggled up against Bob as he laughed too.

Bradley sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to change Everett's name. At least not to that," he mumbled, following everyone as they made their way to the parking lot. When you wrapped your arm around Bradley's waist, he groaned. "I'm so sore."

"Poor thing," you crooned. "You want a backrub when we get home?"

Home. Bradley was going to drive home. Where he lived with his family.

"Are you offering?" he asked with a grin, but all he got in response was a sassy shrug. He loaded Everett and all of his gear into the Bronco and followed your car home. 

And it's not like he ever meant to take over your job of parenting your son, but Bradley absolutely loved helping with Everett's bedtime routine. So he told you to go relax while he got the bathtub ready. Bradley sat on the bathroom floor against the wall, chatting with Everett about baseball and summer camp. He let Everett ask him a million questions and promised to teach him how to keep baseball statistics.

"You should teach my mom, too," he said. "Since she's really good at math."

"We should get her a stats binder for her birthday."

"We should get her a lot more baseball stuff, because she doesn't really have any."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed. "We wouldn't want her to look ridiculous when we're all decked out in Phillies gear and she's not."

Everett started to drain the tub while Bradley handed him a towel. "Do you think she'll let us paint the extra bedroom red when we make it a Phillies room?"

Bradley winced. "I don't know, kiddo. Let me discuss that one with her."

Bradley followed him into his room and got out some pajamas, but once Everett was changed and tucked in bed, he gasped. "Dad! I left the baseball from your game in my booster seat!"

"I'll go get it," Bradley replied, heart swelling.

"Can you autograph it for me, too?"

A strange emotion took over Bradley's entire body, just like it always did in these moments. He felt like laughing and crying at the same time. "Sure, Ev."

By the time Bradley retrieved the baseball, signed it and came back upstairs, Everett was sound asleep. So he left the ball on the dresser and kissed his forehead.

And then he walked into your bedroom. Well, the one that he shared with you now. And you were sitting in the middle of the bed wearing one of his oversized tee shirts. You had removed your makeup, but you still looked beautiful as you reached for him.

"Pulled out a big win today, Coach. Let me rub your back."

"Somehow I keep winning," he muttered, quickly undressing and tossing his baseball uniform into the hamper. You coaxed him into bed, on his stomach, and Bradley groaned softly as you straddled his lower back and sat on his butt. "Feels good, Kitten."

Your soft laughter filled the room. "I didn't even do anything yet." But your lips met the back of his neck as your hands worked at his stiff right shoulder, and Bradley was melting into the soft bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as you worked at a knot with your elbow. 

"Does it hurt?" you whispered, taking a break and kissing that spot.

"No," he replied. "Keep going." But you kept going with your kisses instead of your massage. You gently grabbed his biceps and kissed along his spine and back up again until he was panting. "Kitten."

"Hmm?" you hummed against his shoulder blade. Then you licked his salty skin, and Bradley let you pin his wrists in place on either side of his head. You whispered something filthy in his ear. "You're getting me worked up, and you're not even the one doing the touching, Coach. I'm gonna need you to fuck me."

But when he tried to move, you were firm with your hands, so he stayed put, feeling the throb of his erection against the mattress. You licked along his neck and behind his ear, and Bradley had to keep from bucking for relief. He was gritting his teeth against the sensation of your mouth brushing the shell of his ear as you said, "Your back is sexy. How is your back sexy?"

"Baby, please let me fuck you," he begged before you climbed off of him and stayed on all fours. Bradley slipped himself inside you with one quick thrust that had you moaning, and he slipped his fingers around your necklace chain. Very gently, he pulled you closer to him, careful not to harm your little paw print charm. Your back was arched deliciously, and he pushed the tee shirt up to your neck and caressed your tits.

"Bradley," you whined, but he didn't go any faster. Just languid thrusts, his cock brushing every sensitive spot inside you. He watched your pretty pussy take him as he yanked a little more on your necklace. With one hand on your ass, he guided you through a slow buildup to an orgasm that had you moaning his name for a solid two minutes. 

"Oh hell," he growled, spilling himself inside you, eyes closed and head tipped back. He released your necklace, and let you collapse onto your belly. You squealed as he pressed himself on top of you and kissed your upper back. "You're sexy here too, Kitten."

You giggled as he ended up giving you a back massage instead. "Ugh...your hands are so big."

"I pitched a full game, and I only got a two minute massage," he complained.

"Your fault for getting a boner," you replied, clearly enjoying the way he was touching you. 

Eventually Bradley took a shower and pulled on some clean underwear. You were nearly asleep when he climbed into bed, but you said, "I've been thinking about our wedding."

"Go on," he replied, kissing your scrunched up nose. "I'd love to hear more."

You yawned and whispered, "I think you'll like my idea." And then you told Bradley what you wanted to do. And then you said you wanted to do it in the next month or two. And he had you on your back, smothering your face in kisses while you giggled. 

"Wait," he said, pausing his kisses to look at you. "Is that even possible? Can we actually do that?"

You nodded. "I think so. If you know the right people. You wanna do it?"

"Yes, Baby. One hundred percent."

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

Thunderstorms had rolled in overnight, and you woke up to find Everett in your bed with you and Bradley. It had been quite a while since a storm had sent him into your room, but this one was particularly loud. Everett was curled up in the middle of the bed with Bradley's arm wrapped around him and his head on Bradley's shoulder. They were both sound asleep.

You gasped at how sweet they looked and grabbed your phone to take a picture. And then you checked under the covers to make sure Bradley was wearing underwear. Okay, great. You'd have to remind him to keep doing that. 

As you swiped through a bunch of texts from Molly, you cringed. She had sent them at three in the morning. She wasn't getting enough sleep, trying to transition from overnights to daytime shifts. You knew she needed to take better care of herself. "Oh, Molly," you sighed, climbing out of bed, leaving the boys to sleep a little longer. 

Bob and I are going to that Navy bar tonight. You and my future turd-in-law wanna come?

You snorted as you turned on the coffee maker. Maybe Everett could hang out with Maverick tonight? You'd have to see if that would work. You also needed to make a ton of phone calls at work today. When Bradley and Everett never surfaced, you had to go back upstairs and wake them up for work and summer camp respectively. And then you had to listen to them both bug you about turning the extra bedroom into a Phillies room. 

You just shook your head until they were both starting to whine. "I don't care!" you finally said with a laugh. "Do what you want, but you need to keep the spare bed in there."

Then they rushed out to the Bronco together with just enough time for Bradley to drop Everett off and still make it to North Island on time. You were being outnumbered. You were being overruled. They were teaming up against you. But honestly, you didn't even mind. They could have a Phillies room. Because now that Bradley was living with you, your life already felt less hectic. You felt like you could breathe with the way he did things like take control of bedtime and breakfasts. 

You practically floated into work. You even waved to Frank, with your left hand so hopefully he'd see your ring. Then you got settled at your desk and made a few phone calls. And it turns out, you can have the wedding you want if you just drop the right names. And it was a good thing you saved Jake Seresin's number in your phone. 

While you were desperately trying to finish up one of your projects that was precariously close to becoming overdue, Molly started texting you again. 

ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME?! Bar tonight?

"Chill," you whispered, texting Bradley instead to try to find out if Ev could play with Maverick for a little bit at his hangar. When you left work that afternoon with the reassurance that Bradley would take Everett to hang out with Mav, you went home to get ready to go to the bar. 

It was amazing how you had the time to do your makeup and hair. You even tried on several outfits before settling on your black bodysuit and some denim shorts with sandals. Bradley was definitely going to like this. You just had to make sure he enjoyed it later and not right now, because you could hear his key in the door as you ran down the stairs. 

"I told Molly we'd meet them at the bar in twenty minutes. There's a plate of leftovers in the fridge for you. And I planned our wedding."

Bradley was in his flight suit, frozen just inside the front door with his keys hanging from his hand. "You planned our wedding? And you're wearing your kitten bodysuit?" he asked with a small smile. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kissing his cheek and unzipping his flight suit as you pulled him toward the kitchen. "We have a wedding date."

His smile grew. "You gonna tell me when that might be, Kitten?"

"September third."

"Sounds perfect. And you gonna let me play with you and your kitten costume?"

You bit your lip. "You're really just going to be okay with getting married in a few weeks?"

"Of course," he rasped, kissing your neck. "I'm ready."

"Okay, Coach. And if you're really good, I'll put on my ears and whiskers after we get home later. Now eat your dinner."

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

Bradley had seen you drink before. But he had never seen you drunk before. It was highly entertaining. You and Molly were truly a sight to behold, both wearing skin tight tops and giggling. Even Bob looked like he was enjoying himself more than he had the past couple days as Molly clung to his side and kept tucking her hand up the hem of his shirt. 

"Those sailors keep buying me drinks," you whispered so loudly, Bradley had to laugh. Sure enough, there were some guys at the bar who were buying drinks for all the women, hoping one of them would stick. "I've had like four whiskey sours," you said, holding up three fingers.

"You're so fucking good at math, Kitten," he replied, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

When you giggled next to his ear, Bradley briefly considered taking you to the bathroom for a quickie. But to his dismay, he saw that Molly and Bob seemed to be on their way back there already. 

"Well scratch that idea," Bradley murmured as you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

"Rooster! Come play pool!" Nat called, and you started to push him toward the pool table. 

"Go play with your friends," you insisted. "I'm going to get another drink and then look for Molly."

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that just yet," Bradley said with a grimace that he was sure just went right over your head. "And don't flirt with too many sailors, Kitten."

"I'm not, Coach," you insisted, patting his abs through his shirt. "But they are just so friendly. They won't let me pay for anything."

Bradley shook his head as you weaved your way back to the bar. He kept an eye on you as Penny served you another whiskey sour, and then he saw Molly and Bob stumbling back as he took a shot at the pool table. Bob's cheeks were flushed, and his hair and glasses were a mess. Bradley had never seen him look happier. Molly kissed Bob and then made a beeline for you, and Bob definitely wasn't the only one watching her walk away.

Bradley was laughing as Bob made his way to the pool table. "They're okay over there with those guys, right?" Bob asked, jerking his finger over his shoulder.

"You afraid Molly's going to ditch you or something?"

"I mean..." he started, adjusting his glasses and fixing his hair. "I didn't give her a ring yet. You're a step ahead of me. So honestly, I'm always a little afraid something like that's gonna happen."

"Bob. Get real, man," Bradley said, chuckling as he watched Nat obliterate him at pool. "She just rocked your world in the bathroom."

He stuttered for quite a while before he managed to say, "Yeah, but look at her. She's gorgeous."

"Give it up, Bob. You're stuck with her now."

"Hi," you said, wrapping your arms around Bradley's waist from behind. You managed to make that one word sound like it had about seven syllables while you laughed. 

"You having fun?" he asked. "Not getting into trouble?"

You were swaying on your feet and laughing. Even Molly wasn't this bad, nursing her glass of wine and whispering something to Bob that was making him blush again. 

"I'm being so good," you promised. "Jake bought me a drink."

"Of course he did," Bradley replied when Jake handed you a beer. "I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you whenever I bring you here. And you might not be allowed to wear this next time." He ran his knuckles along your bodysuit that fit you like a second skin, and you sighed. "The sailors can look, and they can spend their money on you, but they can't touch my Kitten."

"That feels good," you gasped, and Bradley kissed your nose.

"You'll feel even better when I get you home later."

You handed your beer to Bradley and sunk your fingers into his hair, leaving him standing awkwardly with the bottle in one hand and his pool cue in the other. 

"I wish you were Ev's dad," you whispered against his lips. 

He set the cue against a stool and wrapped his arm around you. "Me too, Kitten." Truly, he would love that. But he didn't need it. He already had the two of you which was more than enough. More family than he ever thought he'd get. 

"You'd never force my hand like Danny is," you added softly, looking up at him with unfocused eyes and a soft smile. "Never."

He could feel the goosebumps on his arms as he asked, "What do you mean, Baby?"

"You know," you sighed, rubbing yourself against him. "I'm paying for a lawyer, and what good is it going to do? I can't get Danny's name off Everett's birth certificate. I can't get full custody and parental rights. I can't have anything except child support, which I don't even want, because he's going to be a complete jerk and contest it until I'm ready to scream. And I'll have wasted 

thousands of dollars on nothing when we could have taken a vacation or something."

Bradley was stunned. This was way more information than you'd given him about what was going on. "Kitten, if you want to go on vacation, I'll take you and Ev anywhere you want to go. Or I can pay for your lawyer."

"You sound just like Molly!" you complained, booping him on the nose and squishing his lips together. 

Bradley tried not to laugh as Molly looked up from kissing Bob. "Did you call me?" she asked, and you started laughing hysterically. 

Bradley checked the time and shook his head. As the designated driver, he should probably round the three of you up and get everyone home and pick up Everett on the way. But now you and Molly were both over by the jukebox, dancing with Bob to whatever song was playing, and Bradley just didn't have the heart to break it up yet.

But thirty minutes later, he was carrying you out to the parking lot while Bob and Molly stumbled along as well. And now he was mentally planning a family vacation. Maybe to the mountains over Everett's winter break? Disney World in the spring? He didn't know what the two of you would want to do, but he'd make it happen. Hell, he could even take you and Everett up to Los Angeles for a weekend. Whatever it ended up being, it would be perfect. 

And Bradley would let you know when you were sober that you were by no means finished with the conversation about Danny. 

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

Coach Daddy Bradley has moved in. And the boys are getting a Phillies room. And they have a wedding date! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 28

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[hippopotamusdreamer]

And Breathe

genre. [A] [F]

warnings. Illusions of depression, cussing

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, Y/N use, reader is aged between Hyunjin and Han, includes all members of Stray Kids

If you or someone you know is being bullied, there are things you can do to keep yourself and others safe from bullying.

pairing. OT8 x 9th member

w.c. 2.2K

synopsis. The aftermath of the worst time of your life so far, Part 2 of this fic

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

True to your word, the box of graduation invitations arrived right on time. You’d first gotten a text from kakao notifying you that your package had made it to the apartment safely. Then Chan sent a very dry and short message right after that saying he’d put it in your room. Your room that you hadn’t been in since the whole fiasco last week.

You thought you’d gotten passed this stage with everyone. It was like you were on the outside looking in again. Not belonging with them was such a lonely feeling now that you’d had a taste of it.

Since leaving that fateful meeting room, you’d been staying with ITZY in their dorm for the time being. Not wanting to be near the others outside of practice. Of course they’d tried to message you with apologies since you wouldn’t go home but you were still hurt!

Who wouldn’t be? You were obviously justified with how upset you were about the whole incident, there was no doubt about that. And of course they let you have the space you needed. But if you were being honest, you just didn’t know how to face your members or if they even wanted to really see you.

The messages from the younger ones happened for a day or two but then stopped immediately afterwards. You weren’t sure if it was because they realized they didn’t need to placate your feelings or what. And that thought had led you to spiral downward mentally.

So you stayed away from them for now.

You responded to Chan before heaving a sigh and rolling over in bed. Your eyes becoming heavy as the beige of the wall dulled your senses. It was your only constant lately, besides the girls when they came to check in on you. Ever since you left them, there was just this tightening pressure on your chest that wouldn’t go away.

Sleep would surely help, wouldn’t it?

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Your Dorm Same Day Chan’s POV

A.Y/N: Thanks.

No cute little sticker. No little emoji. No nothing.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, Chan sighed as he looked down at the only message you’d sent in a week.

Ever since the argument, he and the boys had been lackluster in what work they’d been able to get done. When he saw how hurt you were before leaving that room, he couldn’t face you. He felt ashamed for not hearing you out properly.

And he wasn’t the only one, all the kids felt bad too. Felix, especially. Since he had already known about your situation prior, only to forget in the heat of the moment. Lee Know even had to get him in the middle of the night to stop Felix from crying until dawn when you didn’t come home that first night.

So he wanted to give you the space you needed and deserved.

But they all felt it; the hole your absence had left.

While it was true that you hadn’t been with them for more than a year at this point; you had integrated yourself so well with everyone. He felt like a total dickhead. You had finally started opening up to him. All week prior you had been hyping them up for a surprise and it was— FUCK!

Why did he do that to you??

He was brought out of his spiraling thoughts by a sudden knock on his open bedroom door. Looking up he saw Jeongin standing there pensively.

“Changbinnie hyung’s back from meeting with Chaeryeong,” the youngest member said.

He nodded before scrubbing his face with a sigh. Getting up and following the maknae into the living room, he noticed his other members had gathered already. Everyone sat facing Changbin as he perched on the sofa, waiting for him to speak.

“How’d it go, Bin?” he prompted.

“…Chaeryeong-ah said that Y/N-ah isn’t doing well,” Changbin reluctantly answered while staring at his hands. Occasionally rubbing them together as a form of self-comfort.

Everyone physically deflated at the news. Nobody wanted you to feel like this, especially when on your own. They all saw how hard you had worked to be a part of their team and their fuck up made you shut them all out.

“She said that Y/N-ah doesn’t really leave their dorm. And that…,” he trailed off.

“What is it Binnie?”

“…She cried the first two nights she was there,” he relayed quietly.

Chan could already tell Felix’s face was about to crumble once again while Seungmin silently ground his teeth together. No one wanted to look at each other.

He looked around the room at his kids. Taking in their facial expressions, downcast eyes and drooping postures. Each one as despondent as the last. He ran his hand through his hair trying to come up with something that could fix this entire situation. He wasn’t sure how much longer they could last like this, you included.

When Lee Know silently grabbed onto Hyunjin’s hand to comfort him, he knew what he had to do.

“Changbin,” he said catching the attention of all of guys. “Call Chaeryeong, I have an idea that could hopefully fix this.”

He didn’t miss the optimistic looks thrown his way.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . JYPE Building That Evening Your  POV

“Chaeryeong-ah, I really don’t want to be here,” you grumbled as you followed the younger woman inside the JYPE building.

“It’ll be really quick unnie. I have to meet with my manager and then we can go out for food. You don’t even have to go up to the meeting floor. Just wait for me in your practice room.”

She picked up on your hesitancy immediately.

“Your group doesn’t have anything scheduled right now, right? No one should be practicing in there,” she gently reminded you.

You chewed on your bottom lip in contemplation at her words.

“It’ll be ok unnie,” she promised while rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I’ll meet up with you after ok?”

She gently pushed you in the direction of the elevators to get to your designated floor. . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

All while in the elevator you had contemplated reaching out to Chan. Your fingers fidgeted with your phone strap as you stared down at your message chat with your leader. Your uneasiness showed with how many times you typed out then erased your message to him.

Just as you were giving up for now, you walked into the practice room where you were immediately rendered frozen. You must have been sleeping because there was no way you could be seeing what you currently were. Mostly all of your members were there, though no one had realized you had opened the door yet. With the exception of Changbin, everyone was preoccupied around the room. They weren’t practicing but they were setting up, for what though you hadn’t a clue.

“Felix hyung, do you want any help with setting up the desserts?” I.N asked the older boy as he finished adjusting his side of a streamer.

“No Innie, thanks but I want it to look a certain way…” he trailed off while concentrating on his task. Every other second he would slightly adjust one of the cupcakes on the table before him.

Even with the distance between you, you could tell just how red-rimmed his eyes were. In fact, looking around the room, none of the others were faring well either. The bags underneath their eyes practically matching your own. You hadn’t been able to sleep well while staying with the girls, only getting in naps when you were exhausted. It just wasn’t the same as your home with the guys.

“Minnie, does she listen to this group?” Han questioned, showing Seungmin his phone for whatever playlist he’d created.

Glancing over to look closer, Seungmin shook his head as he tied a balloon shut.

“No,” was his immediate response while grabbing another balloon from the pile in front of him. He was surrounded by many colorful globs already; you kind of wondered how long he had been at it. How long they’ve all been at it. “She’ll tolerate it if they’re playing somewhere but she doesn’t like them.” The puppy explained before starting on the new balloon.

With a look of silent understanding, Han went back to work on his phone.

“A little lower Channie hyung,” you heard from Hyunjin. Turning your head you see the 3 older members of your group huddled next to the wall.

“How about now,” Chan questioned while propping up a makeshift banner. Lee Know stood on the other side trying to be aligned with the oldest member.

“Mm, pick it up just a little,” the artist responded while eyeing them with his thumb out. As Chan moved to adjust his side better, you were able to see what was written on the banner.

‘We’re Sorry Y/N-ah’

Oh. Oh.

This was all for you.

You brought your hands up to your face silently. The overwhelming sense of emotion was enough to make your heart ache. There was a lot of effort put into this, as much as grown men could do on their own at least.

Just as you were about to call out to them, the door busted open scaring the shit out of you and everyone else in the room.

“CHAERYEONG-AH SAID THAT SHE SENT Y/N-AH HERE ALREADY!” Changbin yelled as soon as he entered. He turned to look at you briefly, “Hi Y/N-ah,” and then looked expectantly at the others.

You waved quietly to him in greeting, taking everyone a second to realize that you were there.

“Y/N-AH!”/ “NOONA!”

Wincing at their exuberant volume, you gave them a wry smile, “…Hi guys.”

They wanted to hug you, that much you could tell. The younger ones jumped up from their spots on  the ground and began to move forward before stopping themselves. Changbin even tried to reach out for you but balled his hands into fists and kept them at his sides instead. Most of them turned to Chan who cleared his throat and stepped forward.

Your heart raced as he bit his lip in worry. Watched on as he clenched and unclenched his fists; a nervous tic you’d noticed that he did occasionally. He took a moment to look at you. Only then could you really see how distraught he was. His cheeks were sunken in and the bags underneath his eyes were more prominent than usual. And if you squinted hard enough you could see how bloodshot they were.

“Y/N-ah…Y/N,” he started in English quietly. “I’ve been replaying everything in my head since that day. No amount of words I say can ever express how truly sorry I am. How sorry we are. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to be that negative force for you here. I value you as both a person and a member of this group. You mean a lot to me, to us. I am so sorry that I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. I regret…we regret everything that happened.

We wanted to sincerely apologize to you in person. You mean a lot to us and we realized immediately how hurtful this was. We can’t excuse our actions; we can only try to rebuild the trust you used to have for us. We take full responsibility for how hurt we made you feel…”

“Christopher…,” you finally acknowledged. “You guys really hurt me when everything happened. You don’t know how alone I felt, especially since no one had my back. I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

Those that could understand English looked down in remorse.

“Noo— Y/N, I wanted to make sure you heard an apology form me,” Felixsaid softly while coming forward to gently grab onto your sleeve. “You told me about yourself and when it mattered the most, I let you down. I am so sorry Y/N, from the bottom of my heart. You may not forgive us now, but I pray that you will eventually.”

“Oh Felix,” you cupped his cheek tenderly. The purple bags and red rimmed eyes more visible now that you were this close to one another. “You’re right. I don’t forgive you right now, but one day. And while it wasn’t ok what you all did, I do appreciate the effort you all are going to.”

“That’s why we did all this, for you.” Seungmin piped up from beside Han, gesturing to the decorated room. “Not so that you could forgive us, but to just show you how much we care about you. That you’re a part of us no matter how stupid we can be.”

Everyone murmurs in agreement at his words. You look around the room again, truly taking everything and everyone in.

“Come home,” I.N blurted out when your silence was too much for him. “We miss you. It’s not the same without you at home.”

Before you could respond, Hyunjin engulfed you in a tight hug immediately followed by a blubbering Felix.

“Come back!”

“Please!”

“We’re sorry!”

You chuckled softly at their antics, patting one of them on the back with you limited range.

From this point on, you knew it was going to be a tough journey forward. But you had a feeling it would work itself out in the end. The painful feeling in your chest that’s been there since this whole thing started began to slowly ease up. You felt like you could finally breathe again.

a/n. Hey folks, long time no see! Had an internship during the summer then school started back up a week after it ended. Now I'm 5 classes in this semester until December. Wish me luck lmaoo

Tag list: @elizalabs3

Those who wanted a part 2: @ihrtlix @6demonica9

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[svt-kiki]

　( 𝐉. )　HER FAVORITE DELIVERY BOY　

𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌

2024.　pairing.　kiki ( fem!oc ) × joshua　wc. 1.4k

cw.　no proofread, mentions of her past mental issues / jun’s absent in the next tour, kinda angst comforting fluff ( ? ), overworking

an.　MY FIRST SCENARIO OMG ?? i bet there’s thousands of grammar errors but here u are...

REBLOG to send the author over the moon

it was almost midnight when kiki felt so much weariness on her eyelid suddenly. she let out a sigh, took off her blue light glasses and pinched the bridge of nose. she should stop now, close the laptop and go home, get in bed. but she knew she wouldn’t. since the group’s comeback and world tour are near at hand, there’s so much to do. and it’s not a secret that kiki is pretty much a workaholic. while she’s in the zone, she just can’t stop clearing the decks and pushing forward, forgetting to get rest or eat properly. actually, she was. since she had a major equilibrium disturbance from 2019 to 2020 that made her take an official hiatus for a couple of months, the boys strictly told her to not do that again for everyone’s sake. it was valid — especially seungkwan and seungcheol begged her almost with tears.

their face popped into her head. she can’t keep doing this — but, oh.

since jun had gone to china and jeonghan will be absent due to the enlistment, all of the formations spontaneously make difference in the next world tour. she wanted to do her best for jeonghan of course, and jun. kiki never told anyone about this before — because all of the members would say ey don’t think like that — but she always felt guilty for jun. from the debut, kiki had opportunities for the acting job time to time, made appear to several dramas and movies. and jun was always there, expressed pure joy and delight every time she got a new job. she knew jun fully supported her and was happy for her from the bottom of his heart. although never doubted his tons of messages about the drama she was in — kiki couldn’t stop thinking about the disparity, between herself and jun on the other hand. it’s not that she got it more than she should. it’s always him, deserves so much more than he wants.

she always knew jun’s wish to pursue his acting career alongside as an idol, as seventeen just like her. so she was over the moon when he got casted in the new movie in china. she always believed he deserved it, the big role in the big project like this.

therefore, isn’t it a matter of course that she should do her best? so that jun can devote himself in there without any concerns?

but not in this way — seungkwan inside her head pointed out. and that’s true.

“just one more hour,” she said herself and back to the laptop only to be failed by someone.

“knock knock,” the familiar voice sounded from the door of the lesson room. a second later, joshua’s head poked from behind the door.

“shua,” kiki widened her eyes. “what are you doing? i thought you already went home hours ago.”

“right back at you,” he let out a gentle smile, slipped himself into the room. he was wearing a soft beige cotton shirt and a pair of faded navy jeans, his bare face was covered by black flame glasses.

“just one more hour, hmm?” he leveled his eyes on her face from between the glasses, raising an eyebrow. “well, i,” kiki stuttered while scratching the cheek. “i can wrap up the most of it that i need to do this week and... we have a shooting tomorrow, so,” she looked down her knee. joshua hadn’t said anything, but she could hear his thoughts.

“i realized i forgot my stuff in here after leaving the restaurant, so i thought i can get back here, partly as a walk after the meal. then i asked the manager if the floor was still open, he said yes and added that you were still in here when he left,” he walked down next to her.

“what’s that?” kiki gave the motion to point to the boxes he holding.

“a special delivery.” he giggled before putting down the boxes beside himself. “i thought you need a break,” then he opened it. “and some sweats.”

plain sugar, chocolate, matcha. it was donuts. the box was filled with the nice plumpy dough. “almond milk latte with honey, right?” he held out the coffee cup. “it’s decaffe since already late.”

“wow,” she let out a small sigh. “how could you find a cafe that still open at this time?”

“it was technically closed,” joshua said, “but she just flipped the sign, so i asked politely that i would buy the rest of the donuts in the showcase too,”

“that’s why you bought six of them?” kiki laughed before he nodded.

“thank you,” she replied, taking a sip from the cup. she could feel the taste of honey beneath the warm latte.

“would you really wrap up and go in an hour?” she knotted the lips for his question. “i think so, after finishing a donut,”

“then i’ll wait.”

“what? no, you don’t have to,” she quickly shook her head with frown eyebrows, turning down someone’s devotion as always.

joshua followed her, frowned his eyebrows as well and tilted his head. “i thought you’ve already overcome this bad habit? now i can see something going wrong in here. if you put back things and go home now, that’s fine. if you wanna go home after an hour, that’s also fine. i can wait to watch drama or something. besides, i have donuts here,” he shook a hand that holding a donut jokingly. “but i can’t just go back leaving you here alone. last time something like this happened was a shortly before you had a breakdown,” he suddenly bit his lips, silent as a pang of guilt lingered. that guilt was hers, not his. “i’m sorry,” is all she could say.

“you don’t need to apologize.” he gently patted her head, fixing the bangs as well. “i’m just worrying about you, okay? besides, you should feel lucky it was me who found you tonight. it was way more drama if it was mingyu or dino or seungkwan.”

“i know,” she let out a small smile, almost a sneer, disbelief on herself.

“i-,” kiki shuttered her eyes while looking up at the ceiling. “i just can’t shake off this feeling, that i’m- i’m cheating,”

joshua blinked with a silent shock by her unexpected words. “cheating? what do you mean by that?”

“jun,” her breath started shaking. “he is going to absent the rest of schedules in this year — it was necessary for him, i couldn’t be happier that he is finally able to chase his acting dreams after all these years. i’m thrilled to see him in a big project that take this long to shoot, but from the outside — it looks like he values his personal career more than as an idol, which was never a truth, because of me.”

he remained silent, lost in thought. kiki continued with darken eyes — eyes, that appears when her mind goes to a deeper place.

“because i decided very firmly, that i won’t be absent to seventeen’s schedule due to my job as an actor. but all happened because i was lucky, it was just a fortune, that i was able to accomplish it anyway. but now that bless put him in a bad light, shua. i can’t bear that. people comparing me and his circumstances which were never the same, and it unfair to do so. they have no idea how much he cares about this team, how much he devoted everything for this, nearly a decade. i know i might be overthinking, i know this is the last thing jun wants for me, but i can’t help it. i’m trapped, joshua,”

the donut was no longer tasted. he put back the one with bites to the box, rubbing sugar off from his finger with a paper towel. “kit kat... since you seem like already knew that your mind started driving in the very wrong direction, there’s nothing much i can say,” he slid himself into the very next to her, hugged her tight in an arm from the side.

“you felt guilty for him? all these years?” she nodded, then shook her head. “yes, i mean no, i was... able to control the direction most of the time. knew it was wrong, overthinking, but this time was... it was different, you know,”

“everything would be different in a couple of months,” he replied calmly, knowing she trying. god, she is.

as her finger run through the hair, kiki took few sips from the cup. “i will be fine, shua, i promise. i won’t let that happen again.”

after observing her expression for few seconds, joshua put a soft smile on his lips. “i will trust you for this.”

after all, he is her soulmate like people says. he composed his words perfectly. a trust — the thing she never fails to keep it true and real, she hates to betray.

but after this night, he is also her favorite delivery boy.

(    📁    )   :   NAVI   :  MASTER LIST     

(    tag list    )   :   @smh-anon @jennwonwoo @angie-x3

[eclipsedrgn]

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥

Batfamily x Reader || Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason may be rough around the edges, but he goes through hell to gather everyone you love for a very special day.

Credits: Music belongs to Khloe Rose, I changed the lyrics a bit to match the theme. Photos aren't mine, unfortunately I forgot to check the owners of it.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

5 whole years.

1825 days since he laid his eyes on you, the most beautiful girl he's every known. His girlfriend, his soon to be fiance.

Jason thought to the first time he met you, a complete accident, you weren't even suppose to be there. But there you are buying recipes to a pesto pasta you love making when a group of Black Mask's gang decided to rob the grocery store you were in. Jason was tracking the gang for a while, for territory reason, and saw the hostages.

He decided to attack.

He killed 6 of the men.

Jason found you crouched down at the milk aisle covered in blood, in front of you was one of the gang members, he guesses the 7th member dead on the ground.

"I-It was an accident" You whispered shakily, "He was going to attack me"

"Don't worry about it sweetheart" Jason says, his voice activator on, "He's a bad man. He doesn't deserve to live"

The next time he saw you was when he finally returned home to the Manor after many months of anger and anguish against his adopted father. You were standing there emotionless, you were going through a moment, you were missing your parents as they just dropped you off at Bruce's whilst revealing he's your biological father.

Jason placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. "You'll get used to it. You're a Wayne now. You gotta act like it"

You started to see him differently, not a sister-brother kind, but a more romantic side.

It was the gala when you officially started dating. You were wondering the hallway when you bumped into Jason, Bruce was going to introduce him back to the family while you are going to be known as his biological daughter. Jason was having a panic attack, guilt slowly eating him with how he treated his family when you kissed him.

"I'm sorry" You said, "You wouldn't calm down"

"Don't ever say sorry" he whispers against your lips as he presses them back to yours.

And now 5 years later, a lot of kisses and makeouts, dancing in the halls of the manor. Jason knew you were the one and he was ready.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Jason flew to your hometown where you grew up, he asks threaten Tim to give him the address where you used to live. He knocks on the door and your mom answered the door. Your mom loves Jason and she would remind you everyday you guys talk to each other. Jason takes out the small red box revealing the ring inside, a custom ring that you always talked about when you get engaged, it was beautiful.

His next stop was your friends, childhood friends, school friends which ever he found. Jason told them about his plan, which was to fly them to Gotham to surprise you. You have been telling him how much you missed them.

Jason flew back with his heart full, his next plan was to prepare. You didn't want a big engagement, a simple yet thoughtful one was the one you like. So he decided to do it in the backyard of the Manor, in the beautiful garden that Alfred works so hard.

He (finally) asks his brothers and sisters for help.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The day of the engagement was perfect, the sun was shining, not too hot for you to sweat and not too cold for you to have a sweater on. Stephanie, Cass and Barbara took you out to do your nails, god forbid they let you get engage with plain nails. While Jason and the boys went to get the backyard ready.

"I can't believe today is the day" Dick comments while carrying boxes. "Are you excited?"

"Of course I am" Jason grumbles, "Are you sure this is the color she likes?"

The colors consist of beige and while.

"Trust me Jay" Tim grins, "She's been playing sims lately and she's been decorating with these colors"

"She always plays sims" Damian mutters as he passes by.

Once the decorations are up, the boys went to their rooms to get ready. With a shaky breath, Jason nervously straighten his shirt as he stared himself into the mirror in front of him.

"She will love it, Master Jason" he hears Alfred.

"Do you think so?" Jason quietly asks.

"Do you trust her?" Alfred asks, his hand on Jason's shoulder.

Jason nodded, "With my life"

"Then you know, deep in your heart that she will say yes" he says.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You wore a pretty light pink off shoulder sun dress with matching pink flats. Barbara curled your hair while Steph did your makeup, you questioned why they're dolling you up but you shrug knowing it's typical for girls to do this once in a while.

Once your finish, Stephanie sent a text to Jason with a thumbs up who replied back that he's ready. You four made your way to the backyard.

"What's going on?" You asked giggling.

"Alfred demanded Bruce to do a family picnic in the backyard, so we are now on our way there" Barbara lies.

The curtains on the main floor are shut, covering what's really going on, but you didn't question it. You reach towards the doornob, not noticing Steph bringing out her phone to record as Barbara did the same.

You open the door as the music starts playing;

Well, I guess the third time's not a charm Nursing a three times broken heart And down the rabbit hole again

Your eyes widen as you see the boys including Bruce and Alfred standing on each side of Jason as he smiles when he spots you.

I put myself in another world Where I can be any other girl 'Cause I don't really wanna face it

Cass places her hand on your back as she gave you a soft smile, she whispers. "Go on"

Your heart flutters as you began your journey to your boyfriend, you notice the white-pink petals on the floor, your favorite colored flower that you told Jason on your first date.

'Cause, if it isn't real You can pretend all you want It's all you'll ever need "That's not healthy, " they said "To live in your head" But it hurts a lot less to me

You covered your face when realizing the song that was playing, the song you became obsessed with once it came out. You love this song. And everyday, it reminded you how much you love Jason.

The man of your dreams.

I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be I spend all of my time imagining What it would be like if they existed My parents tell me I should look for one in real life But I get let down by both the bad boys and the nice guys I'm tired of giving more than I receive So I'll just stick to the boys Who don't know me

To you, Jason was the fantasy boy you've always wanted, the one who loved you with all your heart. The one who made you smile, laugh and cared with all your being.

Oh, I hid his number, I almost called Like, maybe he's hurting after all I can't afford to be that naïve I'll just keep wishing it was me In that ending scene Where they're meeting up halfway And they're kissing in the rain It's a little bit cliché But I love it anyway

Memories of the two of you flashes before your eyes, the good and the bad, tears starts to pool in your eyes as you approached Jason. His hand out as you reached for him.

"Hi" You whispered.

'Cause it's better than when you're walking home And the rain starts pouring But you're all alone

"Hey baby" he whispers back as you both a bit further from the family.

I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be I spend all of my time imagining What it would be like if they existed My parents tell me I should look for one in real life But I get let down both the bad boys and the nice guys I'm tired of giving more than I receive So I'll just stick to the boys Who don't know me

You appraoched a lovely scene of fluffy pillows with your favorite drink and favorite snacks you love to eat while being in the lair.

You start to gasps as tears fell, Jason's hands cups your cheeks wiping the tears with his thumbs. "Hey baby, breathe"

"I'm sorry" You cried quietly.

"I love you" Jason begins, "5 years ago, our journey began when you kissed me in the halls of the Manor to calm me down and I knew, you are gonna be the person in my life who's able to do that"

I'd rather keep on dreaming of someone I'll never meet (Ohh-oh) than give love to another one who won't choose me

I'd rather keep on dreaming of someone I'll never meet (Ohh-oh) than give love to another one who won't choose me

"I can't..." Jason sniffs as his tears falls slowly, "I can't imagine my life without you. You are someone that I can't imagine living my life without and I have... I have to make you mine. Forever"

"Oh fuck" You cursed knowing what's coming next as you covered your face.

Jason chuckles at your reaction, "(Y/N) (L/N), you have been the love of my life, my girlfriend, my whole world..."

Getting down on one knee, Jason brings out the small red box opening it to see the ring that sits there.

"Will you marry me?"

I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be I spend all of my time imagining What it would be like If they existed My parents tell me I should look for one in real life (ohh-oh) And I've found my love that sits under the night skies (ohh-oh) I'm happy of giving more than I receive (oh-oh) So I'll just stick to the boy who do know me

You nodded frantically as you jumped into his arms shouting "YES!" the entire family cheers as Jason places the ring on your left finger and kisses you passionately.

And I've found my love that sits under the night skies (ohh-oh) I'm happy of giving more than I receive (oh-oh) So I'll just stick to the boy who do know me

You pull away as you felt three heavy weight on you, you grinned as you felt his brothers hugging you tightly as you squeal when seeing your family and friends running towards you.

"You did this?" You asked Jason with a wide smile.

"I bought your friends and parents here to see you get proposed" Jason smiles pecking your lips.

"You remembered" You whispers.

He nods, "Of course I did, how did you think I pulled this off?"

You gave him the brightest smile as you flash your ring towards your family and friends who greeted you.

Jason stood there with his family, congratulating him as he smiles watching you hugging the people you love. He pulled it off, the tiredness, the nervousness he felt finally went away when you said yes. Now, Jason knew, the next step is sealing the deal.

[terrence-silver]

Formally requesting a follow up to your married-to-his-high-school-sweetheart Twig story where he finally reunites stateside with his beloved. He gets a bit carried away in his need to convey just how much he's missed her? Maybe it gets a bit dark as he wants to possess her so deeply that no one questions their relationship again?

(You know me, there are really no boundaries on my end, so take this where you will!)

The story is a continuation / expansion of this post right here.

---

Momma Back Home Ran Out of Ink

Twig!Terry Silver x Reader

—

The limousine rushes from the airbase, his chauffeur hitting the 180 miles per hour mark.

He just about didn’t care who saw — who gawked — the image of him leaving in big style like this, his uniform the only thing lingering on him from the flight back home alongside the boxed in beige parcel on his lap — his luggage long since having been sent where he wanted it sent, meanwhile; all your letters, correspondence, pictures, perfumed paper, tokens collected from nearly three years overseas where with him. The first thing he asked for upon release to base and the one thing that stuck to him like a second skin after he was out of the cage was every bit of devotion showcased in written form; Terry Silver was only seventeen when he married you, before being deployed, technically needing parental consent to do so, and of course his old man fought the idea. Of course he waged war, of a different kind, at home, yelling and shouting until the walls practically shook, wagging his bejeweled finger and listing all the requirements of what a potential partner should be, what the acceptable age is, how life should be lived, our own kind of people being words dropped frequently, like a bomb, and Terry recalled that being his first bit of checkmate, telling his father that if he gave his consent he, like a good son, would compromise. He wouldn’t go off to the war and do something stupid and endanger his own future, like all the supposed lowlives did --- boys without prospects other than being live canon fodder were doing and the minute the signature was on paper and Terry had you secured and his, he left anyway.

He laughed then even as he was laughing now, into his own chin, all the way to the airfield.

That was then, his first ever victory.

And this was now.

And now? In the present? He needed you. He needed you badly.

Almost two years in the bush and there were nights where he’d secretly slide his hand into his green fatigues while laying in the sack during patrols, the scented envelope your letters arrived in pushed into his boxers and wrapped around his cock as he rubbed it on the tender flesh there, up and down, envisioning your fingers and lips wrapped around him instead, not minding the chafing sensation of paper on his skin. Quite the opposite; he found the slight discomfort exhilarating, cumming against the material and the itching sensation of pain, holding back groans, stashing the soaked, stained remains away and saving them for later like a lucky charm. Thing is, most of those punks never believed he was married back home in the first place, the same way his father never thought he had the guts to go against his word. Terry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way, because it meant none of them would ever ask for your picture, never ask about you, never hassle him, never even contemplate you, convinced you were a fragment of his imagination or he despised it for being doubted. Looked down on. Underestimated. It was poetic justice when one of them would rip your newly arrived letter from his hand, jumping around like a rabid ape, giggling and reading your words aloud to everyone only to step on a landmine a week from then, losing the very leg they were jumping on in a state of mockery. Momma back home ran out of ink, they’d call it, whenever the letters were late. Somehow delayed. When they were on time, they’d say momma was diligent, writing to her son as per schedule, prodding and poking at him; it was this running gag, that his mother was posing as wife to make him look good out here, in front of the boys.

Those were the nights he wanted to kill.

Simultaneously the nights when he’d squeeze the collected envelopes of your letters harder.

Tighter. The pace vigorous and angry. Desperate.

Scrunching them around his dick until he could feel himself bleed.

-"So, married man, huh?"-

John Kreese remarked on one occasion, sitting beside him in the busy canteen, giving him a broad smile, seemingly eager and warm, the type someone gives you when they’re honest — genuine — regardless, Terry instinctively braced for more mockery, having been used to it by now. Desensitized in ways. Kreese fished into his pocket, lowering himself into the chair beside him, pulling out a photo of his own, tapping him on the back with a big, heavy hand with a gesture sudden and firm enough to be felt in Terry’s spine, John being almost twice his size where muscle mass was concerned. -"Right on!"- A sense of congratulation in his voice and Terry remembered sitting there, surprised. The picture offered to him. A girl. An introduction. Like they were equals. Two brothers. Not even his own father gave him such a welcome sensation after he’s gotten hitched; quite the contrary. He’s threatened to disown and disinherit him. Which he would’ve done too if he simply he had in who’s favor to disown and disinherit him. -"This is my Betsy. My Pasadena girl."- John explained with a twinge of visible, twinkling pride and Terry held that photo between shaking fingers, feeling his own mouth partially fall agape. Acceptance? This was acceptance, wasn’t it? A way of saying ‘I believe you, friend’. All the more reason then, for him to rush home now, in John’s name, in his own, and fuck you, on the foundation of everything that he lived through in Vietnam. The news that Betsy died. That you, on the other hand, were alive and well, and that he should push himself inside of you so deep you feel him in your bloodstream, precisely because you weren’t taken from him. That Captain Turner wasn’t announcing that you were the one who wasn’t alive anymore, during that fateful night when the bamboo cage sprung open and they were handpicked and led outside.

The car comes to a sudden halt and you’re already on the front porch, eagerly waving.

Waiting for him, having got his call, hour, date and all.

His cock twitches in his trousers at the sight of you as he rushes out, slamming the door behind him.

-"Terry! Sweetheart! Baby!"- 

Your arms open towards him, he doesn’t even know when he’s managed to cross the street that separated the parked vehicle from your house by a narrow road, but it’s one of those things a man does in a trance, he supposed. Instinctually. Naturally. The body didn’t need reminds to breathe at night, while it was asleep. Organs didn’t give out while he was dreaming. Having nightmares. Thinking of you. They’d just seamlessly continued to do their own thing, without reminders needed. He figured it was the case now. Terry ran to you because nothing in the world could’ve made more sense. Your soft hands encircle his face, holding his cheeks, gaze scrutinizing every feature riddled with the sheen of warm tears. You speak, exasperated, and he’s heard your voice before. In the sound or rifles. Gunfire. The rare quietude of the night. Nothing beat hearing it live, like piecing together a puzzle from memory. -"Terry, you’re here!"- You speak through gasps, like you couldn’t believe the sight of him. He changed. He was aware he changed. Internally. Externally. In every way possible. The widening of your eyes testifying as to how much exactly. He supposed he did it for himself. For you. For all the people who ever doubted him to the degree they’d fail to imagine him a married man because they couldn’t reconcile he had it in him, leading him to go to Korea after the war and take even more time away from you — make that ultimate sacrifice of discipline and willpower if it only meant how he’d look the part of everything he started being convinced he could be. -"Let me look at you!"- Your stare riddled with happy tears travels up and down his uniform in shock once you release yourself from an embrace he’s reluctant to break — allowing you only so much breathing space, backing you further away from the front yard, the lawn and further up the porch, causing you to walk backwards. Too happy to notice it too. Terry wasn’t looking at his surroundings. He was only looking at you. At this point, a car could’ve pulled up from the roadside and he swears he could’ve stopped it with desire and power of tenacity alone for daring to interrupt him. -"I swear, you got taller somehow! They've been feeding you good out there!"- You chuckle out, trying to alleviate the situation, observing his head and reaching back, finding a wisp of hair tied at the nape of his neck, tenderly tugging at the strands, needing to stand propped up on your toes to even touch him.

Quite the contrary to your endearing, adorable statement; you couldn't even imagine half of the things he was forced to eat 'out there', as you put it so poetically.

He grins at the fact.

He'd much prefer eating you, though. Right now.

 -"This is new too. I like it!"-

You remark, a smile revealing a row of teeth behind a pleased lip, eying his locks.

 -"It’s just like you described it!"-

You add, twirling a curl of hair around your finger and he unwittingly thinks of Ponytail. From his letters, you assumed the tied, long hair was simply a fashion choice, but Terry doesn’t allow himself time to fall behind any longer and get distracted by explanations, hoisting you up without warning, there and then on the sidewalk and lifting your body up, towards his shoulder, eliciting a jolted cry of surprise from you as he balances you by grabbing unto the back of your hips, right beneath your buttocks. He doesn't linger. Ponytail wouldn’t want him to linger either, in fact. Ponytail would want him to fuck your brains out right about now, regardless of the fact that he frequently believed getting married at seventeen is either some Redneck nonsense or Waspy nonsense, never anything in between. You either had to be trailer park destitute or richer than God to be pulling things like that, he'd theorize. Terry nearly cackles at the idea, beaming at the recollection. -"You like it, huh?"- He remarks with a contented hum, sauntering in wide strides towards the house, practically carrying your body forward, his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, feeling the tender skin there through the fabric of your clothes and underwear. It takes a cosmic amount of self-control not to throw you against the front porch wall and screw you right against it, in view of the entire street, letting everyone who accidentally caught ahold of the sight that you’re his. That he did it. That it was his fucking right to do this. You were his wife and he was consummating his marriage. 

The front door slams shut behind him.

He puts you down, cornering you against the nearby wall.

When the buttons of your blouse snap scattering across the floorboard, with each rolling and tumble of the fasteners disappearing under chairs, tables and cupboards like so many ants, Captain Turner’s voice echoes through his mind.

-"So help me God, you got us into this shit, and you’ll pay for it."-

His grimace flashes before Terry’s eyes, obscured by the shadows of the canopy.

His fingers unbuckle his belt like they had a mind of their own, seeking your warmth.

Your cunt hidden underneath layers of fabric.

 -"I’ll make you pay for it, kid."-

His familiar voice repeats and rumbles inside of his brain and Terry isn't certain what way he'd rather fuck you, trying to quell the noise inside of his head, yet simultaneously embracing it gladly, hoping that in some weird way, everyone he was intrusively remembering could hear him. See what he was doing right now. That they were witness to it, as they should've been, as he was getting ready to claim you and preform for each and every one of them, including you, purely so they'd all understand this was real. This was his wife. He was having her. A big collective 'screw you' to the very lot of them --- every doubter in his life so far. He grabs you underneath your hips, effectively lifting you up and spreading you, up against the wall. Thank fuck for the practicality sundresses, because your whole wetness falls open like the most delicious treat inside of a wending machine, the scent of you salty and pungent. Delectable. Soaked and obscured by the thin fabric of your panties. He could see exactly where you were split. Yearning for him. It's child's play to dig into the material and rip it open right in the middle, exposing you for him. You shriek. -"Those bozos out there will seem like a kitten in comparison and by the time they walk through to get you, you’ll beg them to finish you."- His commanding officer had the tendency of saying, moving as close as the tightly confined space of their shared cage allowed back, believing in equal measure retribution as he threatened him, even though Terry knew it was more than a threat --- it was a promise. The buzzing sound of his radio station alerted the enemy to their position out in the wild, endangering the whole platoon and the only reasonable conclusion was for the unit to take the matters of justice into their own hands and ensure clumsy little Twig pays dearly for his negligence. Code Red. Extra judicial punishment. The idea that he isn't safe outside of the cage as much as inside of it. That his own compatriots would make him suffer as much as the Gooks would've and that it would've been John and him against all of them. But, he was here. He was alive. He was devouring you.

-"That little missy of yours? Swear on my heart and hope to die, you ain't never seeing her again except in the front pews while they put to rest whatever's left to ship home of you of you and your ass."-

Turner threatened in his thoughts and you moan, lashed with velvety hot licks.

Hips bucking against Terry's mouth.

The thought of seeing you again was the chief reasons why he felt he survived.

To have someone tell him even that will be taken away from him?

He wondered how he stayed sane. If he was sane at all.

Sane? What was sane anymore?

-"I still own whatever's left of you and your ass."-

The words come out of his mouth of his own volition, repeating lines he's heard before, halfway paying homage, halfway mocking his commander's statement. Lines address for him initially. Reframing them. Causing you to moan from above him once his mouth separates from the slick moisture of your pussy. -"When I'm done."- He adds, once he catches his breath, letting you slide down against the surface of the wall right back into his embrace, not giving you too little or too much pleasure, rather just enough to make you suffer. You huff, breathless, hair falling over your forehead shiny with sweat, mouth partially open in delight, partially on the precipice of inhaling oxygen, like you were on the verge of saying something while he was feverishly massaging your slit with the tip of his cock, easing himself in. He's grown in every way he could. Even his cock would need time to re-adjust to your cunt. But, he knew you'd like that. You'd like that very much. He would too. -"I know this isn't the right time, Terry, but your dad --- he's called and called and called. Almost every day. I just think you should know. Even before we were told you were MIA."- You practically gasp your words once he's inside of you, rocking back and forth --- there was something very amusing, remising about family mid-sex, but admittedly, he barely gave you time to properly greet him after such a long time being away and so much shit he had to get through to merely come back alive, practically hoisting you up and carrying you inside, never even giving you time to say too much. -"And what did you tell him?"- Terry practically purrs, inhaling the scent of your neck. -"What did my hole tell him?"- He corrects himself, allowing himself to laugh. So? The old man did maintain some contact with the only daughter-in-law he'd ever get. He promised Terry he'd never utter a single word directed your way. Clearly, it was a short lived promise. The same way the threat that pa' would disown him if he went to 'Nam was. Funny how people tended to capitulate in strange ways when faced with someone who took the matter of agency into their own hands.

His father told him to leave the whole Karate-Vietnam business behind too.

And then he went and bought John his first dojo, as a gift.

What was the old man gonna do about it?

Get angry twice?

-"I told him the same thing every time."-

You mutter into his ear with what sounded like infinite tenderness.

Gentleness peppered with the shadow of desire.

-"That deep down, against all odds, I know you're okay."-

Terry looks at you then, separating himself from the precipice of your throat riddled with kisses that he was certain would bruise red by tomorrow, You knew he'd be okay. You knew? You told his father that? Even if he wasn't okay and had to come home in bits and pieces he'd drag himself back tooth and nail. John wouldn't let him fall behind. He'd carry him out there on his back and Terry knew that much. That's why you and him were the two most valuable people in his life. His best friend and the woman who deserved to live inside a returning soldier's locket forever as a memento. Still inside of you, Terry takes a second to tilt his head and smile. He's been doing a lot of that lately. The palm of his hand pressed against your cheek. If anything, you killed his father with kindness, believing in him when nobody else did and keeping the faith of his return even in the face of adversity. If anything, you showed your complete and utter quality. Your devotion. The very idea nearly made him salivate. The things he wanted to do to you bypassed imagination and description right about now, but Terry starts with the practical aspects of it all, grabbing the elastic lace holding the two cups of your exposed brassiere and tugging at it hard enough to allow the ribbon to snap, coming undone, exposing your chest, allowing the top to slide down, limp, lacking support. You gasp. He's had waking dreams about your tits. Imagine them every time he set his head down on any makeshift surface that could double as a pillow. But, now? He finally had the real deal, reaching out, and kneading with both hands. -"It's good my little robot's been so diligently answering the phone and taking care of correspondence."- He praises, tugging at your firm nipples --- one and then the other, listening to your breath hitch at the contact. What conversation happened happened; now that he's home he'd make use of the marital bedroom the right, proper way, holding nothing back. After all, you and him had all the time in the world now. Terry's arms envelop your waist, dragging you forward with him, down the corridor, never taking his eyes off of you. Your color drains from your face once he speaks and he didn't blame you. In fact, all of this was deliberate. He didn't know if he meant his words figuratively or literally anymore.

-"Considering this is only just the start and we're not leaving that room until you're wrecked and dead."-

Terry hums with deliberate provocation and lulling self-satisfaction.

Trapping you in an embrace, stripping pieces of clothes from you and himself.

Or rather, ripping --- slamming the bedroom door once you were inside.

Leaving the abject chaos of the foyer floor behind.

[neapolitanupsidedowncake]

how mha characters would propose! Or just ask you out on a first date? 💗💗💗 Also I love ur blog sm its so cute!

BNHA BOYS PROPOSING 💖 gn!reader 💌

content warning: fluff, multiple char. x reader, mentions of wine

DENKI

i think from the first month or so of your relationship together he was thinking "im so gonna marry them 💖" but waited about 4 years or so into dating

he's really nervous about proposing 🥺😭

he wanted to make it special for his precious bean 💞

he asked kirishima and sero to help give him tips 😂

on the day he decided to propose he came to your house early in the morning so he could take you to a nice valley range

you guys just hang out at like 5 in the morning alone on top the pretty little hill he chose just talking about your life and some interesting things you saw recently

when suddenly (he was waiting for the perfect sunrise moment) he told you to follow him then close your eyes

he took you to a flower field nearby, knelt down and pulled out a pretty ring box (😭🥺) tells you to open your eyes!!

and it's just the cutest and nicest thing you've ever seen, and he tells you he loves you so much and he wants to spend eternity with you forever and ever 💗💗

IZUKU

this man goes all out!! and on your anniversary too!

on the day of your third anniversary, izuku is so excited and nervous because he really wanted to make a proposal special for you, his adorable little bean &lt;;/3

he researched a LOT, and even finds out what knee to kneel on (left knee)

he dresses rather nice, debating for about thirty minutes with himself to dress more casually than a three piece suit, settling on wearing a beige sweater you gave him for his birthday.

he even asked his mom about tips, 💓 asking where some places would be nice to go to

he told you he wanted to meet at a shopping place for you to have some fun, then visit a park with pretty flowers

he takes you shopping for your anniversary gift for the day, and the whole time he holds your hand, thinking on how lucky he was to have you.

when it actually comes the time when you go to the park (the place he chose to propose) he's a little sweaty, nervous, and he fears you might just reject him

so when he suddenly, abruptly gets down on one knee (in his panic on his right knee), that wasn't his intention (he planned to do it in front of a pretty tree) but he's doing it

he's crying a little bit, and he starts off by saying that he loved you since he first talked to you in high school. he has a velvety ring box open, and he asks you "will you stay with me forever y/n?"

after you say yes, he's the happiest man in the world, crying, and he squeezes you in a tight hug 🥺💗💗 (in front of a park bench)

SHOTO

after about 3 years of dating, to propose, this guy makes a candlelight dinner for you two at your guys' house!!!!

fuyumi is so excited when she finds out because she LOVES you!!!

he asked his brother, natsuo if that was really cheesy or not, he said yeah, but he did it anyway.

he asked one of your friends secretly to take you out on the day he planned it all out, so it was a surprise for you

he made a meal you both liked, and he got fancy expensive candles and lit it with his fire a few minutes before you got home.

he even put some red rose petals around and on the table 💗💗

he makes sure to dress fancy, and for once even messes with his hair a little bit to make a nice style!

when your friend takes you home, you see the candlelight dinner, with the rose petals, and fancy wine and your soon to be fiancé in a nice suit 🥺💌

he walks you to the table and pulls your chair out for you (gentleman!!) and asks you how your day was with your friend.

you guys talk for a while, and after you both finish eating, he walks to your chair, kneels down, and pulls out an expensive looking ring box from his pocket.

in the soft candlelight, he says, "y/n, my love for you grows more and more every day, and I would be so lucky if you felt the same way. will you marry me?"

after you say yes, he fits the ring on you and decides to slow dance w you with some soft music in the back (🥺😭💗💗)

a/n: (lmao i think i changed the tense of the verbs like 3288432x but wtv lol) i like this prompt, it's really cute, and i love seeing cute proposals or hearing about them it's just too sweet yk? 🥺💖💖 i chose some of my favorite bois, i hope these reach your expectations anon!! so sorry for the long release date 😭

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Oliver and His Company

[A/N: This can be read as a standalone, but if you want context on Aaron & reader’s relationship, find their story here and here! Enjoy 🖤]

4 times Aaron Hotchner refused to admit that he’s a cat person…

1) A Spicy Upgrade

“I swear, Em, it was like an out of body experience,” you tell your best friend through the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you balance grocery bags in one hand and fish your keys out of your pocket with the other.

“So everything was just backwards?” Emily laughs.

“Yes!” you cry, equal parts miffed by your dream and excited to have somehow slotted the key into the lock in the correct orientation without looking. “Pen was, like, fifty shades of beige, and everyone else was super bright and colorful! Hotch was wearing a suit worthy of Elle Woods herself,” you assert.

“I would pay a stupid amount of money to see that,” your best friend snickers. “Can we please get him a pink suit?”

“Not gonna lie, he looked pretty hot,” you muse quietly as you shuffle down the hall to the kitchen. “I’ll work on…that…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer immediately, sorry to have worried her. “Just found my man in an interesting position. Call you later, love you, bye,” you rush out in a whisper, ending the call and snapping a photo for your personal album before the opportunity disappears. Clearing your throat, you place the last of the grocery bags on the counter with a solid thud. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

Aaron’s answer is muffled given the fact his head is currently in the spice cabinet, the rest of his tall form tucked under him, ass comically up in the air for better leverage. You bend down with a groan and open the adjacent cabinet to pop your head in, meeting his sheepish smile and reddening cheeks. Pressing your lips to his, you murmur, “I didn’t quite get that.“

“I said-” He pauses to capture your lips in another sweet kiss, and the butterflies that have taken up residence in your belly since the first day you met Aaron Hotchner stir to life. “I read online that it’s easier for cats to open doors with handles than knobs, so I’m fixing all the doors before you move in.”

“You’re what?” You bump your head against the top of the cabinet in shock, letting out a harsh curse that you’re glad Jack isn’t around to hear.

“Oh, honey,” Aaron tuts softly, unfolding himself from his spot to help you out and delicately rubbing the tender area on the back of your head.

“You- by yourself- you’re swapping out every single handle in this house for Oliver?” You don’t mean to sound incredulous, but there’s no way this man is real. Then again, he bought this house six months into your relationship so that you could each have an office space and ample room for Jack and one or two additional little Hotchners to grow up- although he hadn’t divulged the latter part of that plan to you when he gifted you a key.

“I know it sounds ridiculous-”

“No,” you cut him off immediately, molding your palms against his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss, your lips quirking up in a victorious grin. “It sounds like something a loving cat dad would do.”

Aaron scoffs before muttering, “Just don’t want him getting stuck, that’s all.”

“Right,” you draw out the word, one eyebrow raised playfully. “Totally not cause you’re a cat person. And that’s why I spotted an empty box sporting a picture of a cat tree as tall as you in the garage?”

“I never said I dislike cats, I’m just a dog guy!” Aaron insists, his words falling on deaf ears as you playfully hum a tune from The Aristocats while arranging the groceries in the fridge and he returns to his project.

2) A Sleepy Surprise

Toeing your shoes off in the mud room, you call out, “Boys? I’m home!” The novelty of getting to say those words has yet to wear off even though the last of your moving boxes are piled up on the curb, waiting to be recycled.

There’s no answering pitter patter of feet in the hallway nor voices greeting your arrival, but the sneakers lined up next to yours- one large pair in understated colors, one much smaller pair with Darth Vader on one shoe and Luke Skywalker on the other- tell you your little family is definitely home. You place your car keys on their designated hook before making your way down the hall, pausing at the threshold of the living room with a smile on your face at the sight before you.

Aaron’s lying on his back, his tall form taking up the entire length of the couch, with Jack tucked into his side and an orange ball of fur curled up on his chest, rising and falling with each peaceful breath of his. You let out a content sigh, warmth blooming in your chest from the overwhelming sense of comfort and love these three have brought into your life. Holding your hair back so it doesn’t tickle your darling boy’s face, you press a delicate kiss to his cheek and his mouth turns upward for the briefest of moments. Then you nuzzle your nose against the soft fur between your cat’s ears, and he stirs with a half-hearted chirp before curling up even tighter on his literal man-made bed.

“You’re home,” Aaron murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper with a guilty pout, carding your fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to make dinner.”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far, and you turn back to find just who exactly Jack inherited the puppy dog eyes from. “We can order in tonight. Stay with me?”

You gesture to the full couch and ask, “Where?”

Aaron tips his chin down to see Oliver purring contentedly on his chest, and he taps his head until the cat sits up with bleary eyes. “You’re in your mom’s spot.”

You stifle a laugh as your cat pointedly yawns in your boyfriend’s face, then takes his time using Aaron’s solid body to stretch before flouncing away in search of a bed with less attitude. Aaron looks up at you with a self-satisfied grin and pats the newly vacated space. Shaking your head as you ease yourself down to lay across his body, you chide, “That was mean.”

“Never too young to learn about sharing,” he pontificates.

“Mm, yes, what a poignant lesson from father to son,” you respond, voice muffled against Aaron’s chest.

“Step-cat, at best. And don’t you even say it- I’m not a cat person.”

“Sure, babe.”

3) A New Purr-spective

“Jack-Jack,” you call out with a knock against the doorframe to get the little Hotchner’s attention. He looks up from his latest art project with a smile and says, “Yeah?”

“Daddy washed your uniform so you’re all set for tomorrow’s game. And I wanted to ask you about…this,” you offer hesitantly, flipping the shirt in your hands around so he can see Hotchner displayed at the top and the number matching his jersey. “Would it be okay if I wore this so we can match?”

“Does Daddy have one, too?” His excitement- and nonchalance about you sporting their last name- has relief flooding through you, and you mirror his eager smile.

“Of course! Except his is even cooler cause it says ‘Coach’ on the front,” you respond with a click of your teeth. “I made one for Uncle Dave, too!”

“Awesome. You’re the best!” Jack proclaims.

“No, you are.”

“Nu uh, you,” he insists.

“Nope! You!” You let the word be drawn out as you make your escape down the hall, peals of laughter from Jack’s room echoing behind you.

“I have received official approval to wear my shirt,” you announce as you cross into the master bedroom, only to find the space empty. You can hear Aaron’s voice in hushed tones from the walk-in closet, so you approach quietly thinking that he’s on the phone.

“…not exactly your textbook psychopath, right?” He pauses, then continues, “Right. So there must be a piece of the profile we’re missing, something that explains the evolution of the kills with the alarming disorganization of the crime scenes. Do you think we could be dealing with two unsubs?”

Aaron’s phone is on the bedside table, and he’s using both hands to wrestle one of his dress shirts onto a hanger. Then, you spot his silent partner- Oliver’s sitting in his bed, in the nook that Aaron built into the closet for him, languidly cleaning his paws as your boyfriend theorizes aloud.

“So,” you start, crossing your arms and leaning against the wide doorframe, “you still maintain that you’re not a cat person?”

You can see the back of Aaron’s neck turning red at having been caught, but he studiously carries on putting the clean laundry away. Without turning to face you, he asserts, “I’m just… using him as a soundboard. Animals are excellent judges of character.”

“Congratulations, Ollie,” you offer proudly to your son, “you’re the very first cat to join the Behavioral Analysis Mew-nit.”

“Now that’s bad, even for you,” Aaron chuckles, and you bark out a, “Hey!” with faux umbrage. “When are you going to admit you love this cat?”

“I do love this cat,” your boyfriend counters, finally turning to face you. He curls his arm around your waist to pull you against him and speaks between kisses dotted along your nose and cheeks, “I’m just not a cat person.”

Smoothing your hands across his chest with playfully narrowed eyes, you mutter, “The Hotchner doth protest too much, methinks.”

4) Paw-sitively Whipped

“Bedtime, my little bubbas,” you raise your voice to be heard over the churning of the dishwasher as it starts up, drying your hands on a towel while you walk into the living room. Jack is sprawled out on the floor, flicking a feather toy on a stick back and forth that has Ollie frantically giving chase. You’re honestly not sure which little guy is more entertained by the game. “But I’m helping Oliver get his exercise! Daddy says he’s looking chunky lately,” Jack negotiates.

You and your cat turn to Aaron in unison, the man in question suddenly engrossed in an article on his phone. “Daddy’s lawyer genes certainly passed on to you, huh, Jack?” The little Hotchner grins proudly up at you in response, but even that sweet face doesn’t break your resolve. “C’mon, my love, we left off at a really good cliffhanger last night, remember?”

“You’re right,” Jack gasps, suddenly inspired to get ready for bed. “I’ll be ready in two minutes!”

“Make it three- you need to brush your teeth for a full two, Jack,” Aaron calls as he zooms past you to his bathroom.

“Okay!”

“Alright, Weight Watchers,” you snort, tweaking Aaron’s nose while he looks up at you sheepishly, “who’s on reading duty tonight?”

“I’ve got it,” he declares, tugging on your hand to guide you into his open lap. You settle against him with a sigh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and pressing lazy kisses to his skin. Aaron turns his head to capture your lips in a sweet kiss that quickly grows more heated, and you let out a whimper when he cups the back of your neck to hold you more firmly to him until Jack’s little voice rings out down the hall.

“I’m ready for bed!”

“And that’s your cue, Daddy,” you laugh, patting his chest fondly before detaching yourself from him.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he declares in a murmur, and you can’t resist a smack to his shapely ass before parting ways in the hall.

You run through your own nightly routine, then make your way back to Jack’s room to say goodnight. You find Aaron with his son settled on his lap as he reads, and Ollie is settled on his favorite boy’s lap, purring up a storm. Your boyfriend is absentmindedly scratching his chin, pausing only to turn to the next page in the book. Then Aaron shifts to hold the book with both hands, and Ollie bats at his arm until he relents and resumes petting him. He looks up to find you standing in the doorway, the ghost of a smirk twitching at your lips, and you mouth, You are so a cat person.

He smiles back and shakes his head in response, refusing to give in.

…and the 1 time he finally did.

When you open the front door, you’re surprised to find the house dark. Given your shared line of work and healthy dose of paranoia, you and Aaron always leave at least one light on when the house is empty. But then you hear Jack giggle, “She’s coming!” and Aaron quietly shushing him, and a smile graces your face at whatever adorable surprise awaits you.

You flip on the light to find the foyer decorated with balloons dancing across the ceiling and streamers hanging down, each one adorned with pictures of you and Aaron, you and Jack, and your little family together. Your eyes immediately well up with tears seeing all the memories you’ve created and thinking about all the love you’ve been blessed with thanks to this family.

You walk through, awestruck, touching the Polaroids and printed pictures as you pass them. By the time you reach the living room and your eyes settle on Aaron with Jack standing pressed against his leg, your little boy holding your cat in his arms, you’re damn near sobbing.

“This is why you sent me to get my nails done, huh?” you ask through a half sniffle, half laugh. “You boys certainly were busy.”

Aaron smiles at you and holds out his free hand, and you grab onto him like a lifeline, letting him pull you in before bending down to press a flurry of kisses along Jack’s squishy cheeks. Ollie lets out a squeak of protest in the same timbre as Jack’s ticklish giggle, and you relent your attack with a pleased grin.

“Jack has a very important question to ask you,” Aaron murmurs, then winks at his son.

Jack raises Ollie up as high as he can, not unlike the scene out of The Lion King, and a glint of light flashes at you from your cat’s collar.

“Aaron,” you breathe out, moments before Jack excitedly asks, “Will you marry us, Y/N?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” you answer softly, looking up at Aaron as if he hung all the stars in the sky to find your adoring gaze reflected in his eyes.

—————

Lying in bed that night tangled up between the sheets and Aaron’s legs, you absentmindedly trail your fingers across his chest and muse, “Mighty interesting that a vehemently self-proclaimed not cat person would use a cat to propose, isn’t it?”

“You’re still on this, hm?” he murmurs from above you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Merely making an observation,” you answer back lazily, then roll over until you body is nestled between his legs, your hands pressed against his chest so you can look at him directly. “I lied, I’m still on this,” you concede with a playful grin. “Look me in my eyes and tell me you’re not a cat person, Aaron Hotchner.”

He hums, then leans up to capture your lips in a series of soft, slow kisses that nearly make you forget your name, let alone the challenge you’ve posed. “Can’t do that, honey,” he finally admits between pecking your lips.

“Cause you are!”

He laughs, his fingers ghosting up and down your spine. Aaron notices you shiver under his touch and pulls the sheets up higher on your body while you settle against the warmth and security of his broad chest. “Honestly, I have been since day one.”

“Oh yeah?” You attempt to goad him, but your sass come out muffled thanks to your lips pressed to his skin.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly as if you haven’t been lovingly arguing about this for over a year now. “He was your cat, and I’m a you person.”

Pushing against him to stretch up and level him with a raised eyebrow, you clarify, “Wait. He was my cat?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Now Ollie’s ours.”

“Everybody thinks you’re such a hardass, but you’re really a big teddy bear, Aaron,” you tease before pressing your lips to his.

“I’m admittedly both,” he concedes with a chuckle, pausing to kiss you again before adding, “and a reformed cat person.”

—————

[A/N: I absolutely adored writing these two and I enjoyed getting to sprinkle in a healthy dose of cat puns 😂 Thank you all for reading!]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[peggy7447]

Connect skin and soul

Soo, after my first art piece, here's my very first fanfiction!

This tells the story of how my beloved Marshal Commander, and my cheery little Jedi medic OC have first met!

To see my art of them, click here :3

I hope to bring more about these two because I have soo many ideas in my head (and in my notes) about them, only I tend to overdo things :D (This fic meant to be around 2k. Yeah.)

(Also there's an illustration in the works for this one, so stay tuned! Note: I also tend to overdo art, so it may take a while, but it is in progress, I swear!)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, please keep the feedback coming even if it's about mistakes! I'm always open to being better at something! (Just be kind please <3 )

Huge thanks to @electrikworm for being the beta for this one!

The beautiful divider is from @saradika

Tagsies! @lonewolflupe @tentakelspektakel

Summary: The day was a usual long one for the medic. All she needed was to get some well deserved sleep at the end of it. Only, the Force had another idea, and decided to surprise her

Rating: Teen and up

Tags and Warnings: SFW, some fluff, medical procedures, mild blood, needles, some medical jargon, attempted medical accuracy (not perfect, sometimes on purpose)

Word count: 8.666

The day was a particularly long one, stretching well into the night, but at least it was not one of the hardest. Lasha, the togruta Jedi sentinel was currently cleaning up her cozy little “doctor’s office”, her white and beige lekkus swinging after her as she was moving around and about, her violet hands efficiently putting all her instruments, medicines and wastes of the day, away. She lived on the middle levels of Coruscant, running this small medical facility. She was a healer, but not like the ones in the Jedi Temple. She was much more of a practical kind: she used the equipment the civilians did, while also wielding her talent with the Force. She liked to combine those two - felt it was the most effective way of healing. Not every little wound or injury even required the use of her special talents. 

As for the location: well, there was much less help down here, than on the upper levels of the planet, and the people needing help were more in numbers, too. She was always drawn towards the ones in need, that’s why she became a sentinel in the first place. She wanted to live among those who needed her, not above them, like most of the Jedi did. Not that those were despised by her, this was just more her way of seeing and doing things. 

As most days, this specific one also went as smoothly as it could have. There were a lot of patients, but majorly only cuts and bruises, and simple illnesses like a cold or a stomach bug. She had not even come across any clones. 

The Coruscant Guard was pretty well known to her by now. As the war had started, clones began to appear here too. They were also patrolling the lower levels, and wounds did not appear to evade the boys.

She was placing the last half-empty bottle of disinfectant on the shelf, when she felt something strange. Her stomach constricted, her brow furrowed as this unpleasant feeling crept from her gut up to her throat. It was like, worry? She was not sure. She felt worry before, of course, but somehow it was deeper; while still her own, it came through the Force. Suddenly she felt the urge to go outside into the alley beside her office.

As she stepped out of her backdoor, the usual smell of filth assaulted her nose. I am never going to get used to this, she thought disapprovingly and reached to rub the offended sensory organ on her face. She looked around in the barely lit pathway, only seeing the ever present boxes, bags and the trash container. She couldn’t see anything out of place, so she listened for a few seconds instead. Still nothing out of the ordinary: just the scurrying steps of people from the streets, the whirring of flying speeders on the airways, and the hurried hustling of small animals. She would have retreated into the clean smelling office if not for her increasing worry, so she followed her feeling and decided to check behind the container.

As usual, her instincts did not fail her: in the cover of the metal bin, slumped into the corner was a clone on the ground, unmoving. She quickly got down onto her knees beside him, and in a probe of consciousness asked him “Trooper! Are you okay?” but she got no answer. She didn’t have to search for injuries for long, because on the left side of his white chestplate blood was steadily flowing to the ground, painting it a matching red as most other parts of his armor. 

With practiced hands she went to remove his bucket. On first note, without even a thought, she sucked in a breath. She had seen this one before. This specific face had regularly presented itself in her dreams. She quickly blinked and concentrated back on the task at hand - the face underneath was pale instead of the telltale tan of the clones, making his big scar across his nose pop, his otherwise dark, but graying curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, eyes closed. She was going to have time to think about the strangeness of the situation after he was surely safe. 

As a first step she reached for the carotid, right under his chin, to check for a pulse. It was there, strong, but a bit fast, the same being the case with his breathing. Relieved that he probably won’t die in the next two seconds, she went ahead and positioned herself on his side, so she could pick him up in a bride's carry. She laid his head on her shoulder, put the bucket into his lap, then, with the help of the Force, she lifted and carried him inside. 

With the commander (assuming from his kama) safely laying on a medical bed, she went ahead and got rid of the upper set of his armor, and stashed it safely away in a closet kept for such occasions. Finding the source of the bleeding was no big task after cutting away the blood soaked undersuit. There was a neatly circular slugthrower wound on his left armpit area, steadily oozing. She grabbed a handful of bandage sheets and pushed them on the wound, slowing the flow. Next she grabbed the clone’s upper arm, and rolled him onto his right side, so she could check for an exit wound - and found one, just as perfectly circular. Grabbing another bunch of sheets, she basically clamped him like a vise between her hands. 

Now, with the bleeding controlled, she shut her eyes and reached out with the Force to map out the extent of the injury. The man had been very lucky, she had only found torn flesh, no shrapnel, and a small scrape on the brachial artery. That was the source, but the damage was luckily not big enough for a full blown arterial bleeding, thus causing the heavy, but steady flow. With the help of the Force she willed the muscles of the artery to close the small gap, and the cells of the wall to divide at a bigger than natural rate to keep it that way. Purely healing with the Force was a talling task, but in this case, it only drained her a tad bit, making her tired, but not entirely useless.

With the bleeding now mostly under control, she disposed of the bandage sheets, and went to obtain a pair of gloves, her suture kit, and an ampulla of lidocaine. Firstly she injected the anesthetic, then put her gloves on, prepared the suture and needle, and disinfected the area. With the amount of times she had to close up such wounds, she made quick work of it, only needing a few stitches per wound. 

After cutting the last bit of suture, she wiped off the remaining blood from his - surprisingly - strong shoulder, arm and chest, and inspected her work. Subcutaneous stitches with absorbable sutures would have been more preferable but with such small wounds interrupted stitches were much more practical. The clones always preferred the former ones given there was basically no further bother with it - but these kinds had to be removed. Either by herself or by their own medic. Now that was absolutely up to them - both were common occurrences. 

Making sure everything looked alright, Lasha placed two bacta patches on the wounds, and layed the still unconscious man back into a supine position. She then turned and grabbed a scanner to make sure his vitals were okay. Now that the bleeding was fully taken care of, everything should have been mostly back to normal but instead his HR was still elevated so as his breathing, and also had hypotension. She frowned - something was still going on. She adjusted the settings on her scanner and instead of just a simple vital check she had run a more thorough examination. 

“What, by the Force, have you done to yourself?” Lasha whispered out as her brows climbed up on her forehead reading the results. The clone on her cot was severely dehydrated and so fatigued like - with a slight exaggeration - he hadn’t slept in a week. “You’re definitely staying the night, Commander” she firmly told him, pointing at him with her free hand for good measure, and then moved to retrieve an IV kit, an 18 gauge catheter (He’s a big, strong boy, he’ll deal with it), two bags of sodium lactate solution and some midazolam to make sure he’ll sleep through the night. 

Getting back to him, she examined his right arm for the small procedure and found that he had such strong veins she wouldn’t even be needing a tourniquet. She smiled to herself at that revelation. Every medic likes a good vein. Before inserting the catheter she calculated the amount of sedative for 5 hours and injected it into the two bags of fluids. Her biggest volume on stock was a 1000ml one, so she would need to change once during the night - resulting in 10 full hours of peaceful sleep and rehydration. 

With the IV set up, the drop-rate checked, an alarm for herself set, and the clone comfortably tucked under a (maybe unnecessarily) soft gray blanket, satisfied, Lasha herself retired for the night. Only, her mind was full of her patient’s face. Skin like honey, the thick scar across his nose, the soft smile he almost always wore in her dreams. Those deep chocolate brown, shiny eyes full of tiredness but love. Those perfect dark curls speckled with gray strands. She had seen him so many times before, it was hard to will him away when he essentially was dropped on her doorsteps. She had the strong suspicion before, that she should have some business with this man. But he was a clone. He had hundreds of thousands of brothers. And it was always just his face - no armor, no background, nothing that could’ve helped her find him. So she just waited for the Force to guide them to each other some day. Well, she could’ve guessed that their meeting would be something like this given their professions, but still… It was so unexpected. 

The more she had thought about this topic, the more content she was. She felt a soft and soothing warm enveloping her insides: it was like the rising sun on a spring morning - the cold and crisp night slowly warming up to a just perfect light sensation of warmth on one’s face, making them feel content and happy and secure. They hadn’t even exchanged words but she felt so safe knowing he was there, just a room away. 

“Oh, kriff!” the Jedi whisper-shouted as she shot upright in her bed, scaring the beige and white fluffy tooka away, as the truth dawned on her. He kriffing got a bond from the Force. She was so shocked by this revelation, her mind just froze as it was and got stuck on “You have a bond. With a clone. A Force-bond. With a clone commander.” She was way too tired for this now. These bonds were super rare. She only heard about them just as a mention in one of her lessons as a youngling. There was probably no known example for centuries! And now it’s her! With a clone. 

She started to feel dizzy - she realized she was already hyperventilating. She needed to calm down. There was nothing she could do with this, least of all at this exact moment. She needed to meditate before she passed out. She tried to regulate her breathing: in for 4 through the nose. Hold for 7. Out through the mouth for 8, let the panic flow into the Force. Again. In for 4 through the nose. Hold for 7. Out through the mouth for 8, let it leave… At this point, the previously frightened little creature calmed down and climbed onto her lap, starting to purr. She continued her breathing exercise now complemented with the repeating motions of stroking soft fur. 

After about 5 minutes she was able to calm down mostly. She was still present with the fact of what had happened. Still felt the presence in the Force warmly envelope her, making the experience real. There was still excitement for what would come after such a discovery. But she was able to let go of her panic. There was no use of panicking. In the morning, after she had made sure that the cause of her current predicament was safely back with his brothers, she could meditate more on the matter, go to the Temple for some research. All in due time, not now.

“Sorry Boo” she offered to the tooka, who was now watching her intently with two, big brown eyes. “I’m okay now. We’ll figure it out in the morning. Come on, let’s sleep!” And with that, she tucked herself back into her fluffy blanket, momentarily lifting it up for Butternut to scoot under himself. After a few more minutes of stroking the soft fur of her companion (and the never leaving face of the Commander), she managed to fall asleep.

Not so surprisingly after the events of the evening, her dreams were, yet again, filled with a certain clone commander. Only difference is that now, they were a bit cleaner. She got a look at his armor, and she got the feeling that he was very high in rank and respect. And was radiating exhaustion. Like a lot of it. His whole being was utterly spent.

When the alarm had woken her, she herself felt like she had not slept at all. This kind of Force-plaguing fatigue had the trait of being infectious. She slowly sat up, trying to at least get functional for the few minutes of changing the fluid pack. Quickly throwing a robe onto her as a protection from the cold of waking, she made her way out from her personal room, and into the small patient ward. 

The clone, thank the Force, was still sound asleep on the cot right where she left him. His face was still pale in the dim white light, but was almost back to its natural color, his features relaxed and peaceful. She couldn’t regulate herself, and smiled softly at the sight, as the warmth in her belly flared up once again. She sighed, made a face palm at her impossible situation, then forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Again.

 As intended there was only a few more drops left from the first pack of fluids. Before changing though, Lasha got her scanner out to do a vital check. This time she took in the readings much more satisfied. He could still use that second dose of sodium lactate, but they were back within normal range.

Putting the device back in its place, she made quick work of the bag change. She did not really have to worry about waking her patient given that the light dose of midazolam was still actively keeping him under, but she couldn’t help herself and was more careful than actually needed. She just felt that she must be tender and careful, measuring all of her soft movements, her hands lingering a bit more on the clone’s arm than necessary.

I don’t even know this man! she grumbled in her head when she, yet again, became aware of her own actions. She sure would need a lot of time and meditation to figure this out and accept it. She had great trust in the Force, knew that it would not want her anything bad, but still. Her situation was absurd. This was a strange man, who she had found in an alleyway. Unconscious and bleeding out, and she just did her duty as with any other being, any other clones, for that matter! And yet here she was, feeling like she had always known him, and was the safest person she had ever met without even exchanging a word! 

As for the hundredth time in the last few hours, she let go of her confusion and anxiety with a deep breath, patted the arm of her patient and went back to bed.

The rest of the night had passed surprisingly quiet. Not even dreams had appeared, none at all. When Lasha woke up to her alarm yet again, she felt remarkably well rested. As she positioned herself on the side of her bed, she took a moment to think. Maybe the Force had decided to have mercy on her, sparing her both from the dreams and the overwhelming fatigue they brought with themselves. She smiled to herself content with this turn of events. 

Despite yesterday's happenings she felt strangely positive and excited. Naturally she was still stunningly confused and she knew she would need a lot of time and probably a long talk with her former master to process this fully, but somehow she felt energized and a bit rejuvenated. 

Preparing herself for the day, she made a big stretch with all four of her limbs and quickly made a mental plan for herself about the morning, going through her tasks, before actually enacting them. 

After quickly changing from her night clothes, she emerged into the ward to detach the, by now, almost empty bag of fluid, but she had left the cannula in, just for safety. She’d remove it, when the clone had fully woken - he was still deeply asleep. The effects of the sedative should wear down by the time she’d be done with her morning errands. Taking a quick glance on her patient, she happily noted that the color had now fully returned to his face, and the bacta patches had stayed in place. The poor man had probably not been moving around too much in his, well, not entirely natural slumber. 

Having her check concluded, Lasha went on and comfortably got her usual morning things done, while keeping an “eye” on him with the Force for the entire time. She did not want him to wake up with herself not being there and just leave. Yes, this had happened before with other clones. Sometimes she felt like those idiots would do anything to not come face-to-face with a medic. 

When she appeared out of her ‘fresher after taking a quick shower, Butternut was already waiting for her just outside the door. He knew exactly, that after the shower, came his favorite thing - breakfast (okay, all meals were his favorite, but the night was the longest time he had to go without food, so breakfast was his favorite of the favorites). It was a literal agility check to make the short way from the refresher when the little creature constantly wiggled around and under your legs, making the cutest of little begging noises in the process. As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, firstly she swiftly presented the oh so wanted meal, then much more lazily made herself a cup of warm tea. 

With the whole of her routine completed in the ordinary rhythm, with the mug in hand, she made her way back into the ward. The commander was still in the same position she had left him after getting him off the fluids, however, she could feel him very slowly getting closer to consciousness. Calculated she smiled to herself, carefully sitting on the cot right next to his hip, occasionally taking a sip of her warm liquid.

It took only a few more quiet minutes of drinking tea (she was just at the half of the mug), when the first wrinkles of wakefulness appeared on his face, and his calm and slow breathing started to pick up a bit. She did not engage, just sat in complete silence, mug loosely cradled on her lap, observing.

The first prominent movement he made was scrunching up his face, and lifting his right arm towards his injured shoulder, but let out a plaintive huff when he felt the cannula in the crook of his elbow, making his brow furrow further. He abandoned the movement and his arm plopped down onto his midsection. Which was still covered in the unnecessarily soft and fluffy blanket. There was a pause. Then a few stroking movements on the fabric. Then a brow that furrowed even deeper - now he was full on grimacing both in pain and utter confusion, which Lasha found so incredibly cute and funny she actually had to gather her strength in order not to puff out a laugh. 

After a good few seconds of grimacing he finally opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling, carefully inspecting, what looked like, every bit of imperfection or spider web, or anything, blinking slowly in concentration. The analysis of the ceiling did not get the preferable results it seemed, because in the place of the previous focus, the scowl of bemusement returned and after a second seemingly all his muscles tensed up. He probably figured out that he did not recognize the place where he was. It was time to intervene.

“Good morning, Commander” Lasha softly addressed her patient, to which he visibly startled and snapped his gaze into the direction of the voice - and found a stranger. His eyes widened in surprise, and his first instinct was to try and sit up (and presumably get out of here as fast as possible). The Jedi swiftly reached out with her left hand and by his good shoulder, gently but firmly, pressed him back onto the bed before so much as his scapulas could leave the sheets.

“Don’t get up yet!” She ordered him, which earned her a disapproving stare. “You’re safe here. You’ve been shot with a slugthrower yesterday night, while on patrol, I assume.” At that, he tried to sit up again, opening his mouth to speak, but Lasha, her hand still on his shoulder, did not let him. “Yes, you’ve slept through the night. You needed it. Really needed it. And that too” She glanced towards the cannula still securely in his arm, then up at the now empty fluid bag on the IV pole, next to the cot. The trooper followed her line of sight and made a face. “You have been as dehydrated as a desert upon the bloodloss.” She told him, looking into his face for a moment with narrowed eyes. 

“Who are you?” He demanded instead of any reaction to his current state, glaring first at her hand that still lingered on his bare shoulder, and then squarely in the face, intimidatingly. At that, the Jedi sighed guiltily, removed her hand from him and instead cradled her, now almost empty, mug of tea in her lap, looking down at it. 

“My name is Lasha Kahli. ” She answered her tea. “I’m a medic. I’ve had a few run-ins with your brothers before, so you may have heard my name before.” She looked up at his face. “You had managed to collapse a few meters from my backdoor, that’s how I’ve found you.” His expression was still stern, but she could feel through the Force, that he was no longer so worked up, as upon waking, now that he made sure no one was about to kill him in the next second.

She felt eyes on her, and noticed that he was watching her intently. Not really her face or so, but he was seemingly analyzing again, now her appearance. His gaze first got stuck on her robes for a few seconds, then started wandering lower, reaching her belt and, finally, it fixated on her bronze hilted saber, which was dangling at its usual place on the right side of her hip. After an embarrassing few seconds of medication clogged processing, his eyes widened for a brief second, then his professional mask immediately slipped into place, and he started to straighten up once more, but yet again, couldn’t beat the medic-jedi reflexes, and was pressed into place.

“Please don’t, you do not have to, I’m no part of the GAR. I’m not your superior, I’m just a civilian, who likes to help people” she smiled sheepishly trying to convince him that ranks did not matter to her at all. 

“With all due respect General, all the Jedi are generals” He answered, still in his professional mode, muscles rigid under her palm. Lasha sighed sensing her defeat. She did not give up on her goal, though.

“Then, Commander, my order is to relax, and treat me like you’d treat any other civilian.” She stated in a fake, too serious tone. She got a glare as an answer. “Please, this place should be one, where everyone can feel safe. Including you, and your brothers.” She begged as a last resort, squeezed his shoulder a bit, then let go physically. With the Force though, she tried to radiate calmness and safety, hoping that he could feel it through the bond.

After about a minute of silence, he finally let out a big sigh, and let his head fall back on the thin pillow of the cot, and groaned out a word she was not familiar with. She smiled to herself at her little win, and did not prod the topic further.

With his head now cleared a bit, he started to assess his situation. He carefully lifted his right arm again, now fully aware of the offending equipment in it, prodding at the bacta patch on his left shoulder. He made a small grimace in pain, and asked “How bad?”

“You’ve been lucky. Clean through-and-through, without much internal damage. Had to fix a small cut on your artery though. But nothing lasting. Using the patches, and making sure it won’t tear” she shot him a stern look right into the eyes, and emphasized the second half of the sentence “the stitches can be removed in a week, and you’ll be as good as new”. She finished.

“Removing the stitches?” he questioned with a narrowed look, a wave of displeasure radiating off of him, already opening up the patch to peak under it.

“The wounds were too small for subcutaneous stitches. Had to do it the traditional way. I know you guys prefer the former, sorry” she replied factly, sending an apologetic smile his way. 

After having had a look at the stitches, he gave a short nod and layed the bacta patch back into its place. Declaring this matter taken care of, he went for the next, and squinted at the cannula. “What about this?”

“Wanted to leave it in until you had fully woken” she informed him. “I can get it out now”. 

“Please” he affirmed, and she nodded in answer and got up from the cot to get rid of her now empty mug, and to retrieve some cotton pads, a roll of cohesive bandage and a pair of scissors. 

Upon arriving back to her patient, she reached her hand out, and the clone obediently placed his arm in it. While making quick work of removing the cannula, she told him “I’ve used a bigger sized needle so I could give you the fluids a bit faster. That means a bigger wound. So I’m gonna put a bandage on it. You’ll just have to leave it there for about 30 minutes. Good?” She could, yet again, feel a bit of displeasure in the Force, but he still nodded in affirmation. 

“Okay, that’s it, then.” Lasha had told him after finishing up the bandage. “I’ll fetch you your armor, I’m sure you would like to leave. But” she made an emphasis here “I’ll ask you to comm a brother to pick you up.” To that, he immediately opened his mouth to start arguing, but she held up a hand “I have given you sedatives for the night. You look like someone who can take care of themselves, but currently you're still under the influence of the med and that would give your opponent an unfair advantage. And we are not on the upper levels.” 

“I was in worse shape before and managed just fine. I don’t need an escort, sir” he argued anyway. Maker, clones are so incredibly stubborn she fumed in her thoughts. She almost shot back another reasonable and logical argument, when an idea struck her.

“You know what?” she asked and earned herself a half-raised eyebrow and a questioning look, so she continued “If, without any aid, you are able to reach that door” and she pointed to the entrance of the ward in the room’s other end “you are free to go on your own. If I need to catch or aid you, you call a brother. What do you say?” She presented her fabulous idea.

To that, a sassy, barely visible half smiley presented itself on the clone’s face, eyes glinting with determination. That’s it! They can’t say no to a challenge! she tried to conceal her amusement, managing to stop herself from slowly shaking her head. 

He hadn’t even answered, but started to sit up on his bed and tug the blanket off of himself.

“Wow, wait a minute!” She quickly intervened. “Let me at least put a sling on, before you tear my stitches.”  

“So I have only one working arm?” he grumbled, his legs dangling from the cot.

“You only have one working arm!” She shot back, starting to lose her cool. She nearly never lost it. Before he could put his legs down, she reached out her arm and called a sling to herself with the help of the Force and quickly put it around the neck of her patient, holding him in place with it for a moment of glaring. After a sigh, he tried to lift his wounded arm for her, and failed at it, frowning in offense. The Jedi just gave him a knowing look to that, and carefully inserted the arm into the equipment. 

Lasha took a step out of the way, but was concentrating with all her senses on the commander, to make sure he would not injure himself further by stumbling immediately. He had the intelligence of carefully lowering himself and using the bed as a stable point. He was probably much more dizzy and weak than he had let on. He was hiding it pretty well though, one must give credit for that. 

Being able to use only one arm, it took him a few moments to get fairly steady on his feet. Which were, of course, also significantly wobbly. He made a face of displeasure again, then carefully started to take a step, good arm still on the cot for support. With this method, he managed to reach the end of the bed, where he took a bit of time, most likely planning his next move, now that he had run out of additional support. After a deep breath he met the challenge head on and started to measurely put one booted foot in front of the other.

Lasha was watching still from beside the cot, arms crossed, instincts on edge, but she wore a quite amused expression. This one had a good amount of determination to himself, that's for sure. She almost started to worry that this hadn’t been such a good idea and he would easily overexert himself on this short track.

He was about at the half of his journey for the desired destination of the ward door, already panting, when suddenly his legs tangled and gave out, and his face started its way to meet with floor, but abruptly stopping, suspended midair, as there was a Jedi already being ready for something like this to happen. 

He was frozen in place just for that short time of quick strides Lasha had made to meet and help him stand steady once more. As she carefully guided him back to the bed, one hand across his back, the other grabbing his good arm in support, she whispered a barely audible “I won” which resulted in a disapproving grunt from the commander. 

When he was safely sitting on his butt, and she made sure he wouldn’t fall again, as promised, she started to get his pieces of armor out of the locker in the corner of the room, the first being the vambrace which had the comm unit in it. She had the thought that he could check on it while the remaining pieces of plastoid were being presented. 

“Oh, and” she suddenly called midwork, and turned a sheepish face in the direction of her patient “tell anyone who’s coming to bring another piece of upper blacks. I may have had to cut that into pieces” she delivered that kind of important info elongating the “I”.

His fingers froze above his communicator, frowned, made eye contact, then the question “You did what?” slipped out of his mouth following with throat clearing and a “sir”.

“Yet again, sorry, but a piece of cloth was not my priority when a patient of mine was actively bleeding out on my medical cot” she commented scrunching her eyes, pointing to the still present patches of blood on the cot, and started to wonder whether he was this clueless about medical protocols, the midazolam messed with his head, or he just liked to hold people accountable for every small nuance. Or all of the above. He was no simple case, that was for sure. 

His response was a very prominent huff of air this time. How talkative she mused and finished stacking the armor neatly on the bed beside its owner. Surveying the pieces she took note of the dried blood still present on them too, ruining the neat painting. Thinking for a few seconds, she came up with an idea. It was already her plan not to leave the clone alone until his escort arrived, and now she had just the reason for that. 

“Would you like me to clean the gear?” So she softly inquired with a kind smile. The question visibly caught him off guard, as he suddenly picked his head up from his work on the comm, making a face like he was not believing what he just heard: eyebrows slightly pulled up beneath the curls, and mouth just a tad bit open. 

After the initial surprise he promptly pulled himself together arranging his face and swallowed upon closing his lips. 

“That is not your job, sir, you’re a medic.” He stated, the previous surprise making his voice a little bit less serious than intended. 

“My job is to help and care. In any way. And I would like to. You only have one arm, we can do it together” She offered with a knowing smile. 

To this, came a sigh and a whisper of okay, as he gave his attention back to his comm, and, barely even noticeable, but the corner of his lips twitched into a shadow of a small smile just for a fraction of a moment.  Also, he radiated genuine confusion into the Force, which made Lasha become somber. How often did the clones get offered genuine care? The question filled her mind as she made her way into the kitchen to get some clothes for the cleaning. 

Upon her return, the commander was already sitting cross legged on the bed, leaning above and inspecting the first bit of plastoid, his white chestplate, that had suffered the most of the results of his bleeding. Clothes in one hand and a spray bottle of hyperol in the other, Lasha seated herself on the opposite side of the pile of gear, matching the clone’s stance. She handed him the rug, and grabbed the chestplate holding it out for him. 

“This” she placed the bottle at his knee “is hyperol. Great for getting rid of blood”. The commander nodded, and like this, they made their way through all the pieces that needed cleaning in silence. Lasha was helping to keep them in place, and was rotating them if needed, and he took care of the actual removal of the blood. It was not an uncomfortable silence though - they just did not feel the need to talk, concentrating on the task at hand instead. She was not bothered by this kind, and it felt like he wasn’t either. She could actually get the impression of contentment from him in the Force, and that made her feel comfortable as well.

They were in the middle of cleaning the last part when a ring interrupted them. 

“Oh, someone’s at the door” Lasha announced “I’ll be back in a minute” He responded with a “Mhm” so she got up, and hurried out of the ward and into the waiting area where the main door led to. She glanced at the display beside the entrance that revealed a Guard member with wings on his helmet. He got here fast! she thought and pushed the button that swung the door open with a whoosh.

“Hey there!” She greeted the newcomer. “Here for the Commander, I guess?” she smiled. 

“Ma’am” the clone saluted “Precisely. And good to see you in person! I’ve heard a lot about you!” he chimed in a cheery voice.

“Is that so?” she almost giggled a bit flustered.

“You’ve patched up a few of my men before. Commander Thorn at your service, sir” he saluted again, and stood at attention. 

“Ah yes, I’ve heard of you! Please, at ease, and come on in!” She gestured inside as she got out of the way, so Thorn could make his way from the street. He nodded as a thanks and made his way inside, though still in parade rest. 

The Jedi closed the door and followed him, while saying “Please, relax! I don’t expect formalities, especially here.” To that, he halted on his steps and turned back to her, tilting his helmeted head a bit. 

“I’ve heard that you’re not really into the military formalities, but I did not want to rush into things. Thank you!” He replied, his voice though modulated, it sounded kind and happy. “May I?” He questioned gesturing to his helmet. 

  “Why, of course!” She quickly encouraged him with a bright smile, so he went further with his gesturing hand and got rid of his bucket, attaching it to his belt. Underneath sat a bright and happy face, his eyes radiating joy. On both sides, on his cheeks were a pair of tattoos which depicted something resembling two red claw marks, stretching a bit with his smile. On his chin sat a small patch of beard that matched the color of his dark hair, that was held together in a bun on the back of his head, although a few escaped, and too short curly strands had given him a bit of a messy look. 

“Please feel comfortable, Thorn!” Lasha told him happily with a smile. 

“As you wish, sir!” He grinned and jokingly bowed. 

“With that. Lasha will do just fine I don’t really like the “sir” thing, I’m not your superior”

“Well okay, then, Lasha!” he chimed. Now at last someone who can ease up a bit! she cheered in her head.

“Come on, the Commander’s in the ward, back there!” She waved in the direction of the door and began to lead her guest. “Oh, and” she smiled up to the clone beside her, sheepishly “I hope you got the message about the destroyed blacks.” 

He kept eye contact for a moment. Then burst out laughing with his head tilted back, hands on his belly and everything, like she had just said the funniest thing he’d heard that day. Lasha’s cheeks flushed with red at that turn of events and embarrassedly rubbed at her neck the sheepish smile still on her face. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry” Thorn quickly reassured right after he could take a breath again. “It’s not you, I can just see Fox’s face at that info” he giggled again. “I’m sure he was so happy! I got the blacks for him” and he waved towards one of his red pouches

“That is for sure!” She calmed down from her bashfulness and made a small chuckle. “I almost thought he was angry at me, given his reaction.” She made a small pause, then added, a touch more quietly “Ah-hah, so that is his name” 

“Wait what” he stopped, a step away from the door “He hadn’t told you his name? I thought you preferred our names?” he looked at her, baffled.

“Oh, that is absolutely correct. He’d just never introduced himself. I assumed his rank from his kamas.” To this revelation, Thorn made a huff and said something in another language - mando’a, probably, but she did not speak that. 

“That is so him. I’m sorry if he was being rude. He can appear quite icey, but he’s a good man” he said apologetically, love radiating off of him in the Force. A gentle smile appeared on her lips at the feeling. 

“Yeah” she sighed and continued in her mind I can feel that he’s a good one. Unconsciously her hand moved to her belly that was still enveloped in the warmth of the commander.

“By the way, he is our marshal commander, in case he also forgot to mention that.” That honestly surprised her. She could feel, last night, that he was high in rank, but the highest ranking clone on the planet? That’s just. Wow

“Well yes, he certainly did not mention anything like this. I’ve been calling him “Commander" and he seemed fine with it.” She replied, astonished. After a few moments of processing this information, moving on from her surprise, she chuckled “Well it is a good thing he decided to collapse before my door, then! Let’s not make him wait though, I think he’s grumpy enough already!”

Thorn nodded with a grin, and took a step out of the way, and gestured to Lasha to be the first one through the door, so she opened it with the panel, and stepped into the room, the clone trailing right behind her. 

Fox - as she’s just been made aware of - was still sitting on the cot in the same position, only now he was trying to make the final touches on his pauldron keeping it mostly in place with his shin and wiping it with the rag in his right hand. At the sound of the door whooshing however, he paused in his work, and lifted his glance at them, one of his eyebrows climbing up on his forehead. 

“This place is much bigger than I’d initially thought” he commented, eyes scanning both of them. 

“Good morning to you too, brother!” Thorn completely ignored the remark and heartily greeted the commander, beelining to his bed. “How are we feeling today?” 

“Just give me my shirt!” the other grunted in response. 

“Okay, someone’s really grumpy this morning” Thorn noted but reached into his pocket and handed the black top piece to his brother, who snatched it out of his hands and promptly started to peel his sling off. And immediately scrunched his face at the attempt. 

“If you clones could be just a bit less stubborn, my life would be so much easier” Lasha grumbled as she swiftly made her way to interrupt the commander in his stupidity. “Let me help you with that, by the good Force, please!” She begged, her voice gradually shifting from annoyance to softness with each word, the last merely being a sigh.

This seemingly made her patient soften, at least a bit, as he stopped with his struggling, his shoulders dropped, and he made an audible exhale. 

“May I?” She queried kindly, and reached out with her left hand, signaling Fox to scoot over to the edge of the bed. After a moment of hesitation - or because of the increased processing time due to the sedative - he did oblige, and made himself sit in front of Lasha, legs dangling. “Thank you” she mumbled as she gently got hold of his left arm, holding it in place while she slid the sling first off his arm, then from around his neck, finally she laid the cloth next to him on the blanket. 

Next, she carefully let go of his bad arm, and pointed his attention to the bandaged other. “I’m gonna see if I can get this off” she announced the nature of her actions and tenderly took hold of said arm in his right one, the left slowly removing the cohesive bandage, then waiting for a good handful of seconds making sure there was no more bleeding from the small wound. Satisfied, she let go and concentrated back on the original task.

“Give me the shirt!” She instructed him sternly but tenderly, to which he, yet again, complied. “First I’m gonna put your left arm in, then around the neck, then good arm. Okay?” He silently nodded, and let her go through the process, aiding when necessary but not interfering with her, and together they made quick work of putting the garment on. 

“Now, wasn’t it better this way?” She smiled at him, a bit cocky. He did not respond, but she could catch that small twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. And actual gratefulness in the Force! The warmth spread from quietly sitting in her belly to fully enveloping her whole being, with such intensity it took a great effort not showing it (however she was almost positive that her cheeks went red which put an additional layer of embarrassment on top).

“Need help with the armor too?” She asked, hurriedly changing the topic before the situation became even worse. 

“I can..!” He instantly started the protest, but a knowing look from the Jedi made the words die in his throat. She did not even have to utter a single word, a few seconds of intense glaring made the clone slump again in submission. 

To this twist, Lasha felt a wave of utter disbelief hit her through the Force from the back. By the vibe of it, Thorn was actively trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not, or something very similar could have been playing in his head at that moment. The feeling almost made her laugh out loud, but at least it boosted her confidence a bit - it was probably much harder getting through the stubbornness of the commander on a normal day.

Once more, putting the pieces on went in a silent and compliant process thus making it easy and fast apart from the few pauses due to the moving of painful areas. Even with this slight hindstep she knew that it was much more efficient and comfortable with her help than it would have been without and that made her more than happy. As a last step, she went ahead and placed the sling back in its place on her patient, kindly smiling at him as a hint of displeasure reached her.

“I know you do not like the restriction, but if you use it for a few days, you will heal much faster and will be able to return to active duty sooner, which, I guess, is what your goal is” she addressed him with a squeeze on his - now mostly armored - right shoulder. He made a silent nod as an answer. “Okay” she mumbled, then turned around and went for the medicine cabinet grabbing some mid-dosage paracetamol tablets and a zip bag she could measure them into. He counted the amount needed for the next week (and a few extra, in case) and scribbled “Fox’s painkiller”, and the active agent and dosage (in case their medic asked) on the bag with a matching-red pen, and also grabbed a pack of bacta patches. She walked back to the clones (Fox was now standing, helmet readily in her hand, beside Thorn, who looked ready to catch him, if he even made a strange move), and extended the little bag of pills and the pack towards Fox. 

“This is some painkiller. Take one each morning for a week, and there are a few extras if it becomes worse. And the others are bacta patches - change those daily!” Then she turned to Thorn. “Watch him on your way, not even half an hour earlier his face almost met with my floor” she warned him light heartedly, which got a snort of suppressed laugh out of the other commander and a cheerful “Yes ma’am” with a salute. To this interaction Fox only grimaced, which made Thorn’s smile grow even wider. And that, of course, had earned himself a stern look, so he cleared his throat.

“Thank you for scraping our Marshal Commander off the ground, Lasha. I’ll make sure he stays in one piece” he said half jokingly, but she could feel the honest appreciation and sincerity behind those words, which made her smile from her heart. 

The said marshal commander let out an annoyed huff and determinedly started to stride towards the exit, when he, yet again, staggered on his feet, but Thorn was expecting something just like this, and was ready to catch his CO. As he was stable, Thorn gave him a look, made a gesture to balance him into place by squeezing both of his arms, looked at Lasha with a grateful smile, saluted, then walked out of the ward door, leaving the two of them alone. 

Now this she could not place. She looked questioningly at Fox, who was currently intently watching his boots and rubbing the back of his neck with his unscathed hand, but after a long minute in silence he lifted his gaze in her direction. 

“I really should be grateful for you” he admitted “I’m sorry. You did save me, and I was a ” And he used mando’a again, that she did not understand. I need to ask them to teach me, next time I meet a clone. He really was radiating regret, so in order to counter that, she sent calmness and lightness towards him. 

“It’s okay!” She assured him, taking a step closer, now standing face to face (though she had to be looking up because of the height difference between them). “You had woken up in a fully unknown place with a stranger, while being vulnerable and full of sedatives. I do not blame you, I would have also been pissed, probably.” She made a joke to ease his nerves a bit, however, to give more emphasis on her sincerity, she gently took hold of his right bicep.  “No harm has been done. And if it had been, you’ve certainly made up for it with you honesty”

He straightened into attention, the mask of professionality slipping into place and spoke “Thank you, sir!” Lasha could only sigh at that. 

“Just promise me that you’ll take care of your wound and my stitches, and take it easy before they are removed. And I told you to ease up, I don’t even know where this suddenly came from.” She gestured to him, made a pause, then added, smiling “And please, let me escort you to the door”

He did manage to relax a bit, though his face stayed in the same blank expression. If I see him again, I’ll make it my life goal to get him to relax! she thought, and after a confirming nod they strolled to the door, where she made sure Thorn was still there when she said her goodbyes.  

To her surprise, the warm feeling had stayed with her long after he was gone. A bit less intensely, she was able to feel the distance, but it became a steady and reliable source of warmth and security in the broody middle levels of Coruscant.

PS: Naturally, on their way back to the headquarters, Thorn had scolded Fox for being a shabuir to the nice lady, and had teased him for weeks because how easily she had “tamed” him, which Fox, of course, just blamed on the drugs, and absolutely ignored the strangely good feeling that had arisen in his gut on that day, and was there ever since. 

[florelia12]

Poet Man

Red Fountain

Headmaster’s Conference Room

19th January, 1030

Uniformed

Agent H

Helia dropped his pencil and ran a hand through his hair. He had spent the past few minutes decoding the note he’d received with his stomach caught in an anxious twist, and now that he had unravelled the coded message from his grandfather, a numbness settled in his chest.

He got up from his seat, note in hand, and walked over to his art station where a chamomile scented candle was lit. He held the note over the small spark and watched as it burned in his hand.

Agent H

The words turned to ash and dropped onto his palette, mixing with the earth toned oil paints he had been working with for his new painting.

He hadn’t heard those words in a long time; hadn't been called that since he’d left Red Fountain two years ago.

Agent H

Helia turned that name over and over in his head trying to get used to it after two years of collecting dust in the back of his mind as he started to pull out the boards on his wooden floor. Once he cleared the wood, he found the hatch built into the ground underneath his humble cottage.

He pulled it open and came eye to eye with the seal of the Company of Light — a golden wheel with its spokes extending from a sword in the middle and curves that curled up from the bottom. He grabbed the sealed box and set it down on his work table. He pressed his forefingers down on the lock that was designed to only open to his touch and a click followed.

Helia opened the box to reveal a blue cape, a pair of gloves and a round, dim gem sitting inside the compartments. He reached for the gem and the moment he touched it, it glowed oragne and came alive, its magic rushing through his fingers.

Standing in front of his mirror, Helia stared at his reflection; at the paint smudges on his cheeks, and on his worn out linen pants; at the black cord loosely wrapped thrice around his neck. He let himself relish in the facade he built for himself over his two years of solitude. He didn’t know what this meeting with his grandfather would entail but he had a gut feeling that he might not be returning to his home on Harmony anytime soon.

Especially since Saladin had addressed the note not to his grandson Helia, but to Agent H.

Although there was something so achingly comforting about this artist persona he had fallen into, the gem in his hand was a weighted reminder that it wasn’t who he truly was. It didn’t matter if he’d felt strangely at peace over the past two years as a starving artist studying under a retired art patron. The note, the seal, and the Sphalerite gem were tangible proof that he belonged elsewhere.

Vacation’s over, Agent H. He told himself as he held the gem up to his chest. After a deep breath, he pressed the gem into the skin over his heart. The thrum of power in the gem joined the soft heartbeat, and he closed his eyes as he felt the power rush through his body. When he opened his eyes again, the transformation had already taken place.

There he stood in the navy and beige uniform, the heroes’ cape cascading down his shoulders from where it was attached to the gem that sat over his heart. It was a simple uniform, meant to be misleading to enemies. But the material of it was woven with magic crafted by the Sorcerer Saladin himself. Paired with the gems mined from the powerful core of Eraklyon, the Specialists of Red Fountain who wore this uniform were protected by its magic. It could bend blades crafted by the Great Hagen himself, withstand fire breathed by the lost dragons of Domino and protect from the cold of the Omega Dimension.

Boys had to give their blood, sweat and tears to become the men who would earn the honour to wear this uniform.

Helia had been fifteen when he wore the uniform for the first time after he was presented with the Sphalerite gem. On the day he was accepted into Red Fountain. A day he’d never forget, the day his grandfather who was never known to be emotional uttered the words, “Our boy has finally become a man.”

It’s not like he’d ever been allowed to be a boy. He had thought bitterly to himself. Not to mention that the sentiment was expressed in secrecy for no one could know they were related.

His grandfather explained the meaning behind the Sphalerite gem he had been given, but Helia had been handed far more weighted things to worry about.

Each gem awarded to the Specialists was selected carefully by the professors of Red Fountain. Each aspiring Specialist was observed keenly during their entrance tests, and Saladin would then decide which gem suited the Specialist who’d wear it.

“This is a Sphalerite Gem.” Saladin explained as he picked up the gem from the tray Codatorta held out for him. He pressed it into Helia’s chest, and the rush of energy overcame him. A feeling that he had yet to realise would one day become as familiar as taking in a breath of air.

“Specialists who wear this gem are of sharp mind and tongue. They are valuable in missions that require critical and fast thinking, where the words they speak play just as important a part as their combat skills. They are masters of the game of manipulation, of strategy; who hold the vital touch of darkness on the side of good.”

Saladin had spoken to each and every Specialist who stood at attention during the Initiation Ceremony, had handed them their gems and the role they had to play in the Squad they would later be assigned to. It may seem like a harmless few phrases but it would define who they were until the day they died; more likely on the battlefield than old age as far as statistics went.

Helia would never forget those words. He struggled to understand them at first, or why they were presented to him. Later as he looked into the rare gem he had been given and read the meaning behind the word Sphalerite, he knew exactly who everyone expected him to be. He understood that he didn’t earn the gem, but inherited it.

Treacherous.

Now that Helia knew more about Art, he was even able to understand how even the overpowering bright orange mixed with the undertones of red in the Sphalerite gem played a part in its meaning. The appearance of the gem itself was deceiving; the way the orange shined in sunlight was pure and positive while the red would boil as dark as blood in the dark.

Deceptive.

That’s who he was. The kind neighbour who left out milk for his cat didn’t know that the boy next door who thanked her with a small smile had been raised to be a lethal weapon. The Patron who took him under his wing and provided him with the resources to earn a name for himself as ‘Helia, the Artist’ didn’t know that it was simply an alias for Agent H. Saladin himself probably wouldn’t even recognise his grandson if he saw him right now, with his palms stained with red paint instead of blood.

A mission gone wrong, trust irreparably broken, and a pardon from a pissed off Council of Light had landed him in Harmony, the realm of the Arts. Forcing Helia to invent a new life for himself, one that would appease those who feared he would turn against them for their silent betrayal. Now, it was time to go back; to put an end to the deception that was Helia, the Artist.

He wondered what name he would be given this time.

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

“Ace to Poet Man. Target approaching on your left. Over. ��

“Poet Man to Ace. Roger that. Over.”

Helia ducked and rolled over as a rogue bullet flew over his head, hitting the metal walls. He straightened once he was safely hidden by a broken column and went silent. He listened carefully for the footsteps as they approached from the other side.

Just as they reached, Helia turned out and shot them square in their chest. Neon pink paint splattering all over their black coverall.

“Hey!” A sweet voice whined from behind a face shield.

He gasped as he lowered his guard only for a split second before someone else shot him from behind.

“Hey!” He whirled around, throwing his hands out and shooting an annoyed look at the curly-haired girl that shot him.

Aisha let out a mocking laugh as she kept the gun pointed at the pair now covered in paint. “That’s what you get for cheating with earpieces and shooting my girl!”

“She’s my girlfriend and your team has been cheating with magic so we’re just levelling the playing field.” Helia shot back as he lifted his face shield.

Aisha shrugged and disappeared behind one of the obstacles, the game continuing on while Helia had been outed in a manner that was rather disappointing for one of Red Fountains top Specialists. He blamed his victim for distracting him.

As he turned around, Helia found her pouting at him with her arms crossed and her face shield resting on her head.

“You shot me.”

Helia couldn’t help but smirk, finding her irritation utterly adorable.

“That’s the game, sweetheart.”

“But, you shot me.” Flora argued back.

“I didn’t know it was you!” He tried defending himself, playing along. Flora narrowed her eyes at him, still refusing to give in.

“I’m sorry.” Helia whispered teasingly, moving closer. The tactic was already working as the annoyed look in her green eyes gave way to anticipation. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest as she let out a surprised gasp, the paint on her coverall now sticking to his.

“There. Is that better?” He asked, lowering his head so his lips hovered over hers.

“Aisha already shot you, it doesn’t count.” Flora murmured back, snaking her arms around his neck.

“Hmm, then tell me how I can make it up to you.”

“Don’t you already know, Poet Man…”

Helia smiled and dipped his head, capturing her lips with his. He held her tight as he kissed her, Flora going on her tiptoes to reach his height. Neither of them paid any attention to the battle going on around them as their friends shouted out and shot at each other with paint.

“Attention player three from blue team and player four from red team. Kissing your opponent is against the rules. Please put your face shields back on and leave the arena. Both of you have been shot and are out of the game.”

The announcement from the speakers forced the couple to part reluctantly. Helia pecked her cheek one last time before putting his arm around her shoulder, a sly grin on his face.

“Am I forgiven?” He whispered into her ear as he led her out of the arena. Flora giggled, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“Nope.”

“You’re breaking my heart.” Helia threw his head back, groaning playfully and making her laugh.

“Who else is going to do it?”

[the-fiction-witch]

Mummy & Daddy

Media The Maze Runner

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet + Sad

I stood leaning against the wooden prop for the kitchen roof, my arms crossed over my chest as Fry and I chatted about the fish the boys had brought in this morning. As well as some news about things going on with various people. 

"... you know what I mean?" I finished, 

He nodded and was about to speak but as he looked at me he stopped short and flashed me a look behind me, I raised an eyebrow a little confused about what Fry was getting at, "You have a shadow," He chuckled quietly, 

I turned around and immediately noticed him. 

Milo, stood on the lush green grass, his little brown shoes sinking slightly into the soft earth beneath them. He was wearing beige shorts and a long white shirt that hung loosely on his small frame, making him appear even tinier. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and was dotted with a smattering of freckles that danced across his cheeks and nose. His big chocolate brown eyes, full of wonder and curiosity, were wide open as he gazed up at me. His mop of Y/h/c fluffy hair blew in the wind. 

"Uncle Tommy?" he squeaked, 

"Ohhh hiya Milo, What is it?" I asked, 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Course you can kiddo,"

"Would you tell me about my mummy and daddy?"

I suddenly felt a chill, I knew colour drained from my face. We all knew this would come soon, this question was going to come someday honestly I'm surprised it took so long. 

"Uhhhh well..." I stuttered, "Alright come on," I told him putting an arm around his shoulder and we headed through the camp, He happily came with me and I looked around until I found Minho sitting by the beach. "Go on go see Uncle Minho," I told him, 

Milo ran over excitedly and hugged Minho tightly,

"Whoa!" He chuckled, "Hi little guy," 

"We have the question," I told him,

"Ahh..." Minho nodded, "Okay," he nodded, 

I sat down on the log beside Minho and Milo sat himself on the sand looking up at us with wide brown eyes full of curiosity, 

"So? Are you gonna tell me about my mummy and daddy?" Milo asked with an innocent smile, 

Minho and I shared and looked before we nodded, Milo lit up with excitement to hear we were going to tell him, He shuffled a little closer and smiled. 

"Well, where do we begin?" I chuckled, 

"Well, When I came up the box and into the glade I met your father Newt." Minho explained, "You're father was very kind, sweet, and caring for all of us, I admit there were arguments, there were rough times but we all pulled through all we had was each other. Newt pulled me out of the box and showed me around the glade," Minho smiled, "He and I were runners together, We'd get up in the early morning before the sun, get our packs and go running together through the maze of long changing corridors, and be back to the glade just before frypans stew." Minho chuckled, "Truly Milo, your father was one of my closest and best friends."

"Do you miss Daddy, Uncle Minho?" Mil asked,

"Every day I do." He nodded, 

"What did daddy look like?" Milo asked, 

"You don't remember?" I asked,

He shook his little head, "Not really..." he said, "I remember... little things but not too much,"

"Well, newt was tall, taller than Alby, lanky," Minho explained,

"But strong arms," I added,

"He did that's true," he chuckled, 

"Blonde hair, with brown eyes and you definitely got his nose," I explained,

"ooohh," Milo smiled stroking his nose excitedly, "I did!"

"You definitely did," Minho laughed, "Newt's nose. and Newt's Eyes." 

"And Y/n's hair, and freckles," I laughed, 

"Did you spend lots of time with my daddy Uncle Minho?" Milo smiled,

"We spent every day for a year together when..." 

I looked at Minho unsure if we should but we exchanged a look and I trusted him, we should tell Milo... everything, I nodded to him and he nodded back.

"After about a year, your father Newt... we lost him for the day. We couldn't find him, and it was almost time for the doors to close... And I went out to find him. And I found him out in the maze." Minho explained sadly, "He had climbed halfway up the maze walls and jumped off."

"ooh... Why?" Milo asked sadly, 

"He hated how many of his friends he'd lost, how little help he could be to people, how things seemed to be... missing and strange." He explained, "Alby and I carried him back to the glade and we nursed him back to... as good as we could, but he'd have a limp for the rest of his life." 

"Poor daddy," Milo sighed, 

"Yeah poor daddy," I nodded, "But that didn't stop him, it didn't change him from being the kindest person I ever met," 

"what about my mummy?" Milo asked, 

"You're mother came up not long after," Minho chuckled, "Y/n came up in the box one month and she met all of us in the glade... and kicked out butts. As the one girl in the glade, she had to keep up with all of us boys. She was so sweet, caring and beautiful, She was our little nurse. And she took such good care of us all." 

"She did?"

"She did," Minho nodded, "You know your daddy sat with me at the bonfire one day and you know what he told me?"

"What did he tell you!"

"He said, your mother was the most beautiful girl he could even imagine. And he knew the first day she walked into the medjacks to help bandage his ankle, he knew he was in love." 

"He did!"

"He did kiddo," I laughed, "He loved your mother more than anything, he used to go into the medjacks every day just complaining about nothing, just to see her," 

"Did she love him too!?"

"...After a while, she took a little convincing, but your mother loved him as endlessly as he loved her."

"What did she look like?"

"She had long Y/h/c hair, beautiful  Y/e/c eyes, pale skin and freckles,"

"Like me!" He giggled petting his hair,"

"Yeah you have her Y/h/c hair kiddo," Minho chuckled,

"Then what happened? After they fell in love?"

"So... they got married,"

"Married?!"

"Yeah, one summer afternoon, by the tall bonfire they got married. It was very beautiful I cried. A lot."

"I wish I could have seen it," I smiled,

"And then... not long after, we heard about you."

"Me!"

"Little you Milo, we learnt you were growing in your mummy's tummy. So of course we all became very protective of her and you. None more so than your daddy. He wouldn't even let her walk around the glade at the risk of you getting hurt." Minho explained, "They loved you so much, they'd have done anything for you,"

"what about when I was born?"

"Ahh a very magical day," Minho laughed,

"magical indeed," I chuckled, "I'd only been in the glade a week when you arrived, it was a very busy day," I laughed, "But when you arrived... I'd never seen anyone so happy, Y/n cradled your tiny body in her arms and gave you kisses, Newt cried and cuddled you close they couldn't stop smiling and saying just how perfect and beautiful you were, they thought you were one in a Million little kiddo, so they named you Milo, They showed you to everyone, they showed you to everyone, let everyone in the glade hold you and cuddle you, newt held you in his arms and showed you off like you where made of gold," I smiled,

"They loved you so much," Minho smiled, "So when we left the maze of course they took you in their arms and carried you as we all escaped," 

"And as we were picked up and taken to the facility, you never left their arms not once." I smiled, "They carried you through the facility and made sure you got the best medical care possible. And when it was time to escape the facility Newt and Y/n wouldn't leave without you."

"They carried me all that way?" Milo asked,

"Milo, your mother and father took turns to strap you to their chest and travelled from the glade where you were born, through the maze, through the facility, through the scorch, and from the right arms camps to the last city. You never left their arms. Not once." I explained, 

"And they planned a life with you, a real-life, a house, a school, everything to keep you safe kiddo," Minho smiled, "Until-"

"And when Minho was taken with Sonya and Aris... Newt and Y/n stood at nothing to bring you guys home," I smiled at Minho,

"I know..." Minho nodded even if he had a sober face,

"Newt... began to get sick," I said,

"No-" Milo gasped,

"He did, he got infected. it began in his arm and then crawled up his body, every day the infection and madness got worse but still you Milo were his angel and he would always keep you safe," Minho explained,

"They wouldn't let Vince leave without Minho and the others, so they strapped you to their backs and took you across to the city with them..." I began,

"And I was saved. Along with Sonya, Aris, and all the other kids wicked had taken. Without your parents all this... wouldn't have been possible," Minho explained, "But the virus was airborne in the last city, so as soon as he was there Newt began to get worse so fast..."

"It was hours, barely," I answered, "And then Y/n began to show signs too,"

"Mummy!"

"Yes, your mummy. Both of them began to show signs of the virus spreading," I nodded,

"When the city was attacked... newt got so much worse, but he and Y/n made sure to get us to safety, Newt handed you to Y/n kissed your little head and told you how he loved you more than anything else in this world, he told you how he would always be proud of you and that he wished he'd be able to see you grow up," Minho explained wiping a tear, and he ran back. He kept back the guards, kept back the attack to give us all the chance to get away." 

"Without him... who knows what would have happened," I explained, "But Y/n..."

"ohh Y/n..."

"She knew she was getting worse, she knew it was only a matter of time... so she handed you to me." I began, "She put you in my arms, she told me that she wanted you to have the best life, she wanted me and all of us to give you the life they had wanted for you, she begged me to watch over you, look after you, keep you safe and love you as they had done." I explained, "she kissed your little head, told you she loved you and then she ran."

"Ran... ran where?"

"She ran to Newt." Minho smiled, "She ran to him, and the two died... surrounded by the last city flame, in each other's arms... they sacrificed themselves and their life with you to save the rest of us and died in each other's arms before the virus took hold of them both." 

"You cried and begged for them back, but I kept you in my arms and kept you safe as I promised I would," I told him tussling his Y/h/c hair,

"My mummy and daddy sound very nice and very kind, I wish I could have known them longer..."

"We wish you could too, but they aren't really gone Milo." Minho smiled, "not if you remember them,"

"I know, I do my best. I miss them so much. I wish I could see them again someday, but till then I just have to remember them,"

"We all miss them too, but I know that they'll be watching over you, and looking after you every single day," I told him,

"Thank you, Uncle Minho," He smiled hugging Minho,

"Thank you, Uncle Tommy," He smiled hugging me too,

"You're welcome kiddo," I smiled,

"Go on, get to the gardens you can help Aunt Sonya with the weeding," Minho laughed Milo nodded and happily ran off, "He's a good kid,"

"He is," I nodded, "I wish Y/n and Newt could be here to see him grow up," 

"I know they would have wanted to, but you know they are still keeping an eye on him." Minho laughed

"Course they are, they wouldn't trust us completely with him," I laughed,