#i just think its funny if both of them are trying to hide that they know simon

[uncanny-tranny]

It's always weird when people are like, "Oh, you being [x minority] made me stop hating/reconsider my bigotry toward [minority]!"

Not only is it weird from the standpoint of "wow, you hated me?" but it's weird to know that you displayed some type of behaviour that proved your humanity to them, and that if you stop displaying that behaviour for any reason, it's possible they'll just slide back into their hatred because they haven't fundamentally challenged why they hated you and your people.

It's fine to grow out of your bigotry, yes, but I'm completely understanding of people being weary of those who are so brazen about how much they hated people like you.

[criminalminds4eva]

secret polaroids - spencer reid

summary: secretly dating your coworker, when it all coomes to light due to a blurry polaroid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

“wait, whos in the picture behind your phonecase?!”

doctor spencer reid, the genius with an eidetic memory, one of the fbi’s brightest minds, your coworker. who you’ve been secretly going out with for the last couple of months

it all happend over spilled coffee, you had been rushing over to the office, holding cups of coffee for the team working on a case out of town. as a new member of the team you wanted to make a good impression, hell maybe suck up to them a little.

so when you walk in the precint and spill the coffee all over your clothes, the work of a small town cop running into you, spencer offers to drive you to the hotel, to change into clean clothes.

“that was so embarrasing god what an idiot” you said covering your flushed face as spencer drove to the hotel

“the cop ran into you, besides you were doomed from the start carrying 8 cups of coffee in the same hand, and statistically speaking, it's actually quite common to spill coffee, especially when multitasking or under stress, the brain can only process a limited amount of information at once, which leads to small errors in motor control.” spencer looked over at you and chuckled

"you know it amazes me how much information you have stored up in your brain, i mean i know about the phd´s and everything but still its so amazing" you said looking over at him as he parked in front of the hotel, you can see his cheeks start to form a little red to them and naturally yours do too

and after that, a couple of weeks later full of small glances, smiles and of derek telling him how painfully obvious it was that he likes you and liked him. he asked you out

"you know people who share common interests and engage in meaningful conversation tend to form stronger connections and, well, i really enjoy talking with you, so i was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime? i promise i won’t ramble about statistics the entire time" he said as he tried to hide the blush in his face so the rest of the team wouldnt know what the both of you were talking about in your desk

"spence, id love nothing more than to hear you ramble over dinner"

one dinner became two then three, then you found yourself kissing him goodnight as he dropped at the door to your apartment

he leans in slightly, hesitating for a brief moment, as if calculating the perfect timing and then gently kisses you

"i really enjoyed tonight" you said after the kiss "would you like to come in for a drink?"

he pauses for a moment, trying to think clearly then says "id love too"

after a while you both end up getting wine drunk in your apartment floor, which leads to the decision of your bringing out your polaroid camera

"come on spence smile for the camera" you laughed trying to get him to take his hands off his face but he wouldnt so you snap the picture anyway

"alright enough, your turn" he said taking the camera from your hands and taking a couple of pictures of you.

he wobbles a little setting his wine glass down in the counter, eyes half-focused but full of affection. "you know,ive been thinking, well, not just tonight, but, like a lot. you’re amazing and smart, and funny, and so beautiful and i think your definetly out of my league and if i were to kiss you then go to hell, i would. so then i could brag to the devils i saw heaven without entering" He fumbles over his words, blinking slowly, but his sincerity is clear. "maybe you could, um, be my girlfriend? statistically, we’re, uh, compatible, and I think we could you know be really happy together what do you say?" he offers a lopsided smile, clearly a bit nervous despite the alcohol.

his rambling takes you back "did you just quote shakespeare to me?" you chuckled as you leaned in to kiss him once more

"is that a yes i take it?" he said kissing you back

"yes doctor reid, i want to be your girlfriend" his eyes wide open to your response, and for a moment hes speechless, he laughs nervously rubbing the back of his neck and grabs the camera once more

"come on we are taking our first official dating picture" he smiles shyly but brightly taking a blurry polaroid of the two of you in front of the mirror

the two of you knew it was better to keep the relationship private, spencer's face flushed when you mentioned the thought of how derek would tease him, or how he wouldnt hear the end of it from garcia being all happy for the both of you. knowing they wouldnt do it to harm either of you but since this was quite new and being coworkers, you decided to keep it private but not a secret. the team knew spencer was seeing someone, emily said his face seemed brighter and suddenly he couldnt stay overtime to finish the files jj had sneeked him in his desk. and they knew you were seeing someone too since garcia said she caught you smiling while you were texting, they hoped you guys were seeing each other but since neither of you ever mentioned the date or maybe it was the fact that you really were able to mantain a professional front while working, they hadnt been able to fully catch on that you were dating spencer

that was until you decided to put the blurry polaroid of the night he asked you to be his girlfriend behind your phone case

"wait who's in the picture behind your phone case?" penelope squealed with exciment catching the attention of the rest of the team

"is that your boyfriend y/n, do i officially have no chance with you" chuckled derek leaning against your desk as you nervously took your phone from garcia

"oh come on now she will tell us when she wants too" emily approached then took your phone from your hands "besides you cant really tell who it is in the picture" as she looked at the picture trying to figure it out despite your efforts to take the phone from her hands.

derek stood beside her also looking at the picture "hey but doesnt it kind of look like.."

"morning what are we looking at" spencer appeared at your desk, his face blushing when he saw the picture emily and derek were looking at, they looked at spencer, then looked at you burying your face in your hands

"oh my god, no way really?!?" garcia said with a bright smile "doctor love oh my god i cant belive it" she said hugging spencer

"so i guess the cat is out of the bag huh?" you said looking at spencer

"you owe me 20 bucks i told you they were dating" emily said playfully punching derek in the shoulder

"wait you guys had bets on this" spencer said laughing nervously letting go of the hug with garcia

"well pretty boy we didnt actually think you would even ask her out how long has this been going on for" said morgan looking playfully hurt "baby girl let them breathe" he said pulling garcia from you

"a couple of months" you mentioned letting go of the hug with a cheesy smile

"alright, we have a case" said rossi joining the team by your desk. the team grins weider as they notice spencer blushing as he stands next to you "were really happy, for the both of you" said derek as they started to walk away. you get up from your desk following the team and squeeze your boyfriends hand, a signal that all was well

"did you really think we wouldnt figure it out?" rossi raised his eyebrows as he looked at spencer watching walk away while the team playfully teased you "im happy for you kid" rossi patted him on the back

spencer shakes his head with a half-laugh trying to hide the blush in his face as they joined everyone.

⋆｡°✩

a/n: feedback would be super appreciated, i hoped you enjoyed reading <33

[miya-rin]

“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

[multimousefanatic]

For a show that hinges upon its audiences’ adoration for identity porn, there is far too much unexplored potential for secret identity shenanigans for my liking. I want to see more Multimouse and Chat Noir. But I also want to see Multimouse and Adrien. Multimouse and Aspik. Multimouse and Cat Walker. Marinette and Aspik. Marinette and Cat Walker.

I know the fandom loves to hate on Aspik but I think it would be so fun to see him and Multimouse interact. JUST IMAGINE IT okay? BOTH of them are gonna be awkward AF and internally spiraling bc they have to pretend to not know the others identity AND act like they’re not absolutely head over heels for them. They literally both know the others identity but have to pretend they don’t in order to hide their OTHER secret identity like HDBDBDJDNDJCHHC

And like, imagine Cat Walker working with Multimouse? And like he can tell that Marinette kind of has a thing for Cat Walker and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about that until Plagg points out that it’s the third version of him she’s fallen for and he suddenly feels very okay with it

Or Multimouse sees Adrien and she reverts back to nervous-clumsy-stumbles over her words Marinette because she’s overthinking the whole secret identity thing but Adrien KNOWS she’s Marinette so he totally clocks that behavior and thinks it’s the cutest thing ever but also he acts completely oblivious and does everything he can to help her calm down and act natural

And then Marinette and Aspik? Similar vibe except maybe Adrien’s trying a little too hard to look cool in front of Marinette which gets her to laugh because she KNOWS he’s trying to impress her and it helps her to calm down and stop overthinking the fact that she has to pretend not to know who he is, and he loves that she’s laughing, but that’s not really what he’s going for so he ends up using second chance to redo the moment over and over & he can’t figure out what he’s doing wrong or what Marinette thinks is so funny

[togament]

i am RATTLING the bars of my enclosure thinking about togame im so insane about him its not even funny hebrgkdlcjfslfj

i love his nose shape bc its not one i see very often on characters but like i KNOW he puts it to good use while ur riding on his face I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES 😩😩🥵🥵🥵😩😩😩😩😩🥵

STAAAAWP. bc that’s the exact reason why i fell for him holy shit (and the exact same dirty thought SHDJNDDNDN) how are you literally meeee? i legit paused the episode he first showed up at and ran to his wiki. i have a thing for guys with pretty, beautiful, gorgeous noses ok (and the fact that i could kinda rub up against them when i—)

"when togame’s nose fucking distracts you (same) when you’re out in public. you’re needy and he’s more than willing to provide."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : TOGAME’S NOSE OH MY FUCKING GOOOOODDDDDuh, togame palming himself while he eats, swearing, fem!reader, squirting, SLURPING, togame’s a GIVER, oral (female receiving) ((good for you)), sliiiight breath control play if you hold a little magnifying glass to it, togame straight up jorking "it", and by "it", haha, well. lets just say his peanits, togame.

staring up at your boyfriend, you can’t help but admire his features. how soft his gaze always is, how he pouts slightly every time he’s deep in thought, how he hides his dimples when he laughs but they still show even at the slightest smile.

but what really gets you, what really grinds your gears, is his nose.

“let me sit on your face.”

“hm?”

“…Let. Me. sitonyourface.”

“eaaaasy, baby. what’s got you worked up all of a sudden?” he purrs.

———-

NSFW under the snippy snip. MDNI. nobody below 18 pls mua mua mua.

you’re hovering your sopping wet cunt over your lover’s face now, his hot breath kissing the insides of your thighs with both of his hands cupping your ass, giving them little squeezes to ease your descent. looking down at him, his lustful gaze never leaves your form. Watching you slowly lower yourself onto his face, he blows upwards and onto your glistening folds. you clench over nothing and he lets out a hum.

“lookin’ so pretty fer me, bunny,” he coos, not even trying to mask the absolute desperation in his voice. “all wet just from my voice alone. missed me that bad?” you nod, lowering further, further. his nose brushes against your clit and you gasp. he’s fully aware that you love his nose, how you focus on riding his face only to bump your clit onto it. gets you every single time.

the grip he has on your ass eases up as you fully seat yourself on his face, your cunt directly on his tongue. you let out a soft mewl as you feel his thumb raise the hood of your clit, exposing the more sensitive bud underneath. it’s absolutely engorged and fat now.

he’s torn between savoring the taste of you and just fucking you senselessly. he missed you as much as you missed him, after all.

that could wait, he realizes.

he’s enjoying the view above him.

his rough thumb flicks at your clit while you continue seesawing on his tongue, unbidden curses and moans escape your kiss reddened lips. you swear you could feel his tongue moving, tensing it and laying it flat for you to ride on. but then you move higher, higher.

rubbing your sensitive nub against his tall nose. his thumb holds the hood of your clit back as you help yourself to the pleasure, expertly riding his face like you often do when he gets you alone. if he could, he’d stay like this forever. eating you out, having you cum on his tongue over and over again.

you’re riding faster now, practically humping his face with your fingers tangled in his curly, jet black hair. god. he can’t take it.

he starts palming himself underneath you while you ride his face into oblivion, getting off on the fact you’re getting off on his face. plus the added restriction on his breathing is making him feel dizzy but in the best way possible.

moaning underneath you, it sends vibrations up your core. you let out a salacious moan and that further eggs him on. with one hand, he pulls his gray sweatpants down to finally pump at his cock, moaning louder into your cunt. god. this is the closest to heaven you'll ever be without dying.

your grip on his hair tightens before your breath hitches, growing more and more staggered with every moment that passes. you look down again and you meet his eyes. like he's silently telling you to cum. throwing your head back, you continue riding, and riding, and riding....

just cum.

and you do. fuck, you do. squirting down his lips, the liquid dribbles down his neck and into his hair. but god. he's holding onto your hip hard with one hand when he follows you, cumming just after you did, groaning into your pussy. you whimper, relaxing your muscles that have been taut the entire time you were chasing that high. meeting your boyfriend's eyes once more, he fucking winks at you before he maneuvers you, pinning you underneath him on the couch. he pulls you in for a much deserved cuddle, massaging your shoulders while he coos at you. "was it my nose again?" "...yes."

a/n: ehehehehe togame and his fucking nose, brother. i'm so so SO happy to know we got togame nose fuckers around too. i see you.

a/n 2: togame knows you’ve got a thing for his nose btw :)!!!!! he’s a sweet boyfriend BUT!!!!! he can be a little shit if he wants to be. uses that shit to his advantage.

[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[mackjlee9]

|How is he when he's jealous?|

Warning; top!amab!reader, no pronouns used, dan heng has two cocks, dom to sub dan heng, slight possessive dan heng.

(I'm planning to make a series of this with the hsr men so... look out for that, and if you have ideas you know where to find me)

Masterlist.

Honkai; Starrail

When Dan Heng gets jealous...

•He doesn't show it, at all.

•To everyone else it almost looks as if he doesn't care his partner is being hit on by a random stranger, trying to get his number and go on a date with him.

•No one sees how jealous he is, except you.

•He gets so possessive it's almost funny.

•He shows it in his little mindless actions, like holding your hand out of the blue, sticking way too close, and calling you a pet name he only calls you in private.

•In public you're just (M/n), but alone you're 'Honey', sometimes even the silly 'Muffin' when he's too sleepy to care.

•His dragon becomes nature a problem all on its own.

•He found it hard to hide his jealousy before, but now? He can't control the urge to latch himself onto you and drag you away.

•He's fully aware that vidyadhara can't reproduce naturally, but he thinks -irrationally- the only way to make you his and only his is... if you impregnate him.

•He knows how impossible that is, but that is not stopping him from trying.

•Which led to him feeling his senses going numb at the strong scent he felt when he entered your room in the Express.

•He can feel you everywhere on him and it's driving him crazy.

•He's almost surprised at how desperate he feels, not wasting a second to push you down on your bed and climb on top of you, undressing you and himself while his hands roam all over your body, your mouths latch together.

•The way he sinks on your cock has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head, and he smirks at the tight grip you have on his hips, holding him still.

•He loves how full he feels when your cock is deep inside him, stretching him open and how his tight walls accommodate to your size.

•"You belong to me, honey... Only me."

•He marks your chest with his nails, those that grew just slightly longer and sharper, hearing you hissing in pain but not telling him to stop.

"Your mine... A-all mine, fuck..." Dan Heng's eyes glowed for a moment before they rolled into the back, biting his bottom lip as he moved his hips back and forth, grinding down on you, feeling your cock stretching his insides in a way that made his mind blank.

However, he was going too slow for your liking, you could feel your orgasm so close and yet so far with how slow he was moving. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Yeah, I'm yours," your hands gripped onto his hips tightly and turned both of you around, pinning him down to your bed, "Only yours, love... No one can make me feel this good," your hold moved to his thighs, folding him under your weight.

You watched how Dan Heng struggled to hold in his moans, the veins on his neck becoming prominent at the effort he was putting into keeping quiet, but you knew exactly how to have him moaning your name. How to have him cumming all over himself, over and over again.

You knew his body better than he knew it himself.

Slowly moving back, your cock rubbed all the right spots inside Dan Heng as you began to pull out, hearing him whine and reach his hands out to you, "Don't... I want- please, d-don't pull o-out..."

A smirk grew on your face, and you leaned closer to him, your warm breath hitting his sensitive ears, causing his walls to tighten around your cock. Your teeth gently graced the tip of his ear and his body tensed, a choked moan filling the room as his nails left more scratches on your chest.

You glanced down to see how Dan Heng's cum had stained his stomach and chest, both of his cocks twitching and leaking. Without a second thought, your hand moved to grace the red and glistening tip of one of them, only for Dan Heng to grip your wrist, tears in his glowing eyes as he looked at you.

"I just... Came, it's s-sensitive," you hum in response, and release a sigh on his ear, making him tremble and whimper, his hold loosening.

Your hand wraps around his cock and his hips squirm, trying to get away from your hold but whining your name when he feels your hand stroking his cock.

"Please- I don't... Wanna cum li-like this, fuck~," your hand slows down, leaving Dan Heng only feeling your touch gracing him, and it's even worse than before, it's too little and he knows he can cum from that alone, "I want to cum... Wh-while you fuck me, please..."

You watch as tears fill his eyes before making their way down his temples. You kiss his tears away, easing your cock inside him again, "This is why..." You back away and hold his wrists above his head, hearing his whines and whimpers getting louder, "I'm yours, and you're mine, love."

(I fucked it up🧍)

[lady-boketto]

Gyomei Himejima General Headcanons (Sfw/Nsfw)

a/n: I hope i did this right but anyway, I have a lot of ideas but i don't really know how to right them out and his is my first time actually drumming up the courage to post anything lmao but after writing this I had a lot of fun and actually feel more confident in writing headcanons but let me know what you think! :)

SFW (Safe for Work)

Gyomei is a man who is very in tune with his feelings, so he's very attentive to your emotions and when you're not feeling quite like yourself so he likes to help you out when you're not feeling well or when you ask him to hold you, he always welcomes you into his strong arms with a warm smile on his face

when someone comes to confide in him, Gyomei is more of the type of person to listen to your problems or stories that you want to tell him than he is at trying to come up with topics or solutions to talk about but he will comfort you with ressasuring words if he feels like you need it and always has a warm smile on his face when you approach him

Sometimes when Gyomei has time to himself to relax and unwind in his own space it is often interrupted by someone (his comrades or you, his beloved) not that he minds at all at their presence he actually welcomes them as he found with time that the people around him naturally gravitate towards him and tend to be comfortable enough to share stories with him which he's more than happy to listen and be engaged in anything they might say, Gyomei suspects it might be due to the mixture of his large stature and calm demeanor that people naturally feel that they are protected and puts those around him at ease

Due to people casually coming and talking to him, Gyomei is a bit of a gossip and likes to know things but doesn't really do anything with the information, he doesn't like to start drama or be around it, he would rather be spending time at home with you, he'd take a seat in the lounge area and when he has made himself comfortable he'd raise his hand out to gesture for you to come and sit with him so he can tell you all the stories he has collected since you last spoke with a wide grin on his face

He may be blind but that doesn't mean that he is completely useless, in reality Gyomei has learned how to compensate for his short comings in a way that makes the people around him forget that he is even blind

tries to hide how amused he is when you forget that he is blind (ex. when you try to show him something interesting or when you comment on how dark the room is)

he loves it when the both of you have the time to relax and enjoy each other's company, especially the warm afternoons where he can sit in the grass without a care as you are relaxing peacefully in his lap, reading out loud to him the book that you picked up from the markets while he was out on his last mission.

also there are days where he likes to sit outside ( by himself or with you) and play his shakuhachi ( it's like a flute but sounds so majestic lol) , he doesn't know a lot of songs but likes to play notes and find which ones sound good together and plays little random tunes ( sometimes he makes up lyrics to go with the melody but most times its just meaningless tunes)

Gyomei has two weaknesses and that's: you and cats. It's a struggle for him to balance the two but with persuasion ( he secretly likes to be complimented and hugs, especially when you hug his arm) he will choose you with little to slightly moderate regret to the stray he saw on his way home from his meeting with the leader and the rest of the hashira.

Gyomei especially has a fascination with the maine coon cat breed not only because they are one of the biggest breeds of cat but because they are rather social creatures like Gyomei himself, they don't mind spending time around other people. He also finds it very funny when he get to spend time with a maine coon cat and he feels them softly making biscuits on his haori when he's trying to pet the other cats or talking to you

NSFW (Not Safe for Work)

Gyomei likes to praise you in bed so that he can feel the heat rise from your skin under his large hands

not really the one to risk getting caught doing anything other than kisses on the cheek or a loving embrace in front of others

there's a whole another side behind close doors and in your shared space, he becomes more desperate for your touch and especially loves it when you roam you hands down his chest and shoulders, he blushes and softly sighs when you pay more attention to his thighs ( lightly moans if you lightly drag you nails down his mid thigh)

Gyomei's ears are very sensitive and likes to hear your voice (has a thing for your voice) so he enjoys every little noise you make for him, it ties a knot in his stomach when you lowly whisper in his ear how much you desire him and he more than happy to comply to your wants

Another area that is sensitive for Gyomei is his neck and collarbone, he can't help but squirm and firmly hold you by your waist as you are on top of him and attacking his neck with kisses and bites

The one thing he doesn't mind other people seeing is the love bites you (or hickies) leave on his neck because most people that he talks to are actually too anxious to tease him about them when they catch the sight of them peeking out of his uniform, but little do they know he knows what they are nervous about because although he can't see the chain of marks you've left, he smirks to himself as he body shivers with the slight sting of pain when he traces his fingers over his neck as he remembers your touch

Gyomei likes to rely on his other senses to please you in the bed room and due to not having the proper time to go out and meet people it has left him a little touch starved so he loves to use his mouth on your body

He wants nothing more than to kiss your body on the parts you are most sensitive to and tell you how much you brighten his world by being in it and telling you how lucky he is to call you his lover while his hands are working to bring you closer your desire of coming undone in front of him

He is a bit embarrassed to admit to you but loves to use his mouth on your chest and moans like crazy when he has one of your nipples in his mouth, also likes to feel up your hips and thighs as he works his mouth on your chest

Gyomei's favorite places to kiss you are your lips and inner thighs because he secretly love how needy and how vocal you get for him (it makes his chest swell with a sense of pride and wants nothing more than to hear you praise him more so he can do his best for you)

He doesn't like to use his full strength on you in fear of hurting you in some way, unless you specifically ask him so to do or that you managed to work him up so much that he can't control himself and has to set a boundary to show you who is in charge of the current situation by sneaking up behind you with a firm press of his hips to your behind or when his hands find their way to your neck to put a light pressure, warning you to behave for him or else he'll have to use drastic measures on you if you dare to test him further)

if you'd let him if would love to cum inside you, he likes it when you beg for him to cum inside you (the heat of the moment makes the both of you blush like crazy) especially Gyomei because he doesn't stop thrusting his hips until you're both coming down from the high of the moment (he loves to feel you spasm and eventually relax against his body)

Gyomei always makes sure to take care of you after you are both done, he's amazing at massages (he's very good with his hands) and will clean you up or run the bath for you with your favorite soaps and scented oils or he will gladly get you a glass of icy cold water with the small ice cubes that are so easy to crunch with your teeth (whatever you want or need, Gyomei is ready and willing to serve your every need)

[devildomditzy]

“I can’t believe ya”

“I said I was sorry!”, you plead, running after your boyfriend as he angrily stomps away from you, not even feigning a glimpse at you.

“I don’t wanna hear your excuses!”, Mammon exclaims, hurt written clear across his face. “Outta all people, I trusted ya! And look where that got me!”

“Mammon, please listen!”

“No! How could ya!”

“How could ya spill your drink all over the floor of my Demonio!”

You try just so, so very hard to hide your giggles, but how could you? Out of everything you’ve both been through, this is what he decides to get upset about?

“Mammon, it’s not that bad, really”, you try to reason, but the look on his face is getting severely more annoyed by the second, him recognizing your weak attempts at stifling your laughter.

“Not that bad? Not that bad?! Those are luxury carpets! I paid good money to have those installed!”

“And I paid good money for that milkshake…I’m disappointed I dropped it too…” and…

you can’t help it, you make a small honk, just teenie tiny squeak.

“You’re not sorry at all!”, he throws his hands up above his head. “You think this is funny, huh? Sure, it’s real funny, MC. You destroyed your first man’s pristine ride, hilarious!”

And oh Diavolo, he’s really, actually mad isn’t he?

And oh Diavolo, you can’t stop cackling can you?

“I-it’s just a stain Mammon! I’ll clean it! Gosh, you’re so worked up!”

“Clean it?! Or, you’re gonna do more than clean it! You’re gonna make sure my car is spotless, you little heathen!”

“Hey! No fair, I stained your carpet, not ruined your paint job!”

“And if it wasn’t for your butter fingers, my baby would still look just as good as the day I got her!”, he points his finger at you accusingly, crossing his arms after and huffing.

You both garner weird stares from the other residents of the House of Lamentation as you enter still arguing, with Mammon choosing to park outside the front door instead of his garage/loft hybrid. You pay no mind and continue your bickering as you both begin to walk towards his room.

"Ya gonna pay me back double- no, triple! Triple the cost of the cleanin' fee!"

"What! No way! I can't believe you would even suggest...", your voice fades away from the other's earshots the further into the house you get.

They exchange puzzling glances between themselves.

"What do you think that was about? A lover's quarrel?", Asmo asks, an indescribable sparkle in his eyes.

"Don't know, don't care. But, its best to leave them to it", Satan replies with a small shake of his head and a sigh, mumbling under his breath, "Two halves of a whole idiot."

[kleine-joost]

Beautiful

Joost Klein x Reader

a/n: just some cute lil fluff, i promise a longer fic is in the works <33

It was early, far too early. The sunrise had painted the sky a warm, fiery orange and its rays just managed to creep through your curtains. Joost was still asleep beside you, one arm over your waist and letting out the gentlest snore with his deep breaths. 

You couldn’t help but watch him for a while. When he was awake, he was always so worried about everything, always aware of everyone around him, but like this he was fully at peace. 

Joost woke about 20 minutes after you. You didn’t notice at first because you were scrolling away on your phone, only clocking him when he stretched and let out a long groan.

“Morning,” you whispered.

“Morning,” he groaned back. “What time is it?”

“Too early.” 

He stretched out an arm and nodded at you, a way of saying ‘come here’. You locked your phone and dropped it on your nightstand, before wriggling your way into his side.

The room was silent as you both laid in the warmth of the sun rays reaching further and further over your bed. 

Joost could just see out onto the street from the angle of the bedroom window. He watched people sluggishly make their way to their early shifts, and the graveyard shifters coming home. It was probably cold outside, everyone had on a coat and hunched their bodies to try to keep as much warmth as possible. It was funny how it all felt so far away when he was with you. Then he caught your eye.

The golden light warmed up his face. You could see the tiniest bit of redness on his nose from the cold air, and the tiny–barely there–freckles he’d collected each summer like a souvenir. His eyelashes were so long, even if they were almost invisible if you weren’t searching for them. And, of course, those deep pools of ocean blue…That caught you looking.

“A picture’ll last longer,” he grinned.

You could feel heat reaching your cheeks as you giggled. “You’re just so beautiful, that’s all.”

Now it was his turn to giggle. A bright laugh that you would never get tired of hearing. You saw a slight pink tint wash over his cheeks as he tried to roll over to hide his face in his pillow. 

His sudden shyness only spurred you on more. As he mumbled some kind of protest, you grabbed the sides of his face, gently turning his head back to face you. You were looking him dead in the eyes.

“I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so beautiful before-” Like an impulse, you lightly kissed the end of his nose. “All of you.”

He didn’t speak, he was smiling the kind of smile where your lips stretch and your cheeks hurt, he couldn’t stop it. Not even for the rest of the day. As you both got out of bed and dressed, eating breakfast, seeing you off to work, he carried it with him.

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

[childrenofcain-if]

Did your school also have that awful baby project where you have to partner up with another student and be “parents” for like a fake robot baby? The one that has sensors in it and it cries in the middle of the night and you have to feed it and carry it around for like two weeks.

I'm imagining if MC and C had to pair up for that project in school. It's a funny mental image of two kids arguing over a fake baby like they're 40 year old divorcees.

Obviously they both want a good grade but they literally won't stop arguing over every stupid thing about the fake baby.

A whole lot of: “You're holding it the wrong way.” “No, YOU'RE holding it the wrong way.” “Why did you have to dress it up in THAT outfit. It looks hideous.” “I thought it was cute! What, are you not happy unless it's wearing formal three piece suit, get over yourself.” “You're supposed to look after it tonight.” “I told you that I'm too busy with practice after school.” “Well that's too bad, we both agreed that Friday is YOUR night to look after the baby. I'll get it back on the weekend.” “But I can't take the baby with me to football practice! Why are you so inconsiderate?" "Great, look it's crying now. That's gotta be your fault.”

Teacher would immediately be so done with them and ready to take off points for “inflicting psychic damage on the baby by means of hostile environment” or some bs 💀

it was supposed to be a simple project—a rite of passage, really. every student had to go through it: the dreaded baby project. the one where you and a partner were tasked with taking care of a robot baby for two weeks, complete with cries in the middle of the night, diapers that needed changing, and a never-ending checklist of parental responsibilities. it was meant to teach you about responsibility, commitment, and empathy, or whatever nonsense the school administration tried to sell it as.

you, on the other hand, had different thoughts. especially when you found out that your partner for this cursed experiment was none other than C Lacroix.

the moment the teacher had paired you two together, you both shot each other the same look of mutual horror. of all the people in your class, of all the potential partners, you were stuck with each other. it was like fate had a sick sense of humor. C, the person who couldn’t go a day without making some snide remark about you, was now supposed to co-parent a fake baby with you? for two whole weeks? this was going to be a nightmare.

“why do we even have to do this?” C muttered under their breath, running a hand through their hair as they eyed the little plastic baby lying in the crib in front of you. “making this project mandatory is ridiculous.”

“you think i’m happy about this?” you shot back, already feeling the tension between you two rising. “you’re not exactly my dream partner either.”

the teacher, mrs. wentworth, stood at the front of the class, giving out instructions as though this were the most serious, real-world task you’d ever face in high school. you had to pick up the baby, name it, dress it, and take care of it as if it were real. the sensors inside the baby would track how well you handled it, including how quickly you responded to its cries, how gently you held it, and whether or not you remembered to change its clothes and diapers.

C crossed their arms, glancing at the little bundle of plastic with thinly veiled disgust. “how are we supposed to pass this if it’s literally rigged to cry at random hours?”

you didn’t bother hiding your frustration as you leaned in closer, keeping your voice low. “well, maybe if you actually try instead of complaining all the time, we could figure it out. just a thought.”

they shot you a glare. “oh, so now you’re an expert on fake babies?”

“better than you, at least,” you muttered, folding your arms over your chest.

the two of you stood there in a silent, seething stalemate for a moment, both unwilling to be the first to back down. then mrs. wentworth walked over with an expectant smile, handing you the baby and the care guide that went with it.

“don’t forget,” she said, her voice overly chipper, “this baby is your responsibility. think of it like it’s a real, living child.”

C muttered something under their breath that sounded a lot like kill me now but managed a tight-lipped smile as mrs. wentworth walked away.

and so the nightmare began.

***

the first night was a disaster. the baby—whom you both begrudgingly decided to name “charlie,” after a half-hour debate that nearly escalated into a full-on shouting match—began crying at exactly 2:14 a.m. you were supposed to take care of it that night, but when the piercing wails filled the room, you groaned and instinctively checked your phone. two missed calls from C. the stupid app linked to the baby must’ve been ringing off for them.

“are you kidding me?” you muttered, rolling out of bed and grabbing your phone.

when you called them back, their voice was groggy and clearly annoyed. “why is the baby crying?”

“gee, i don’t know, lacroix, maybe because it’s a robot baby that cries for no reason? it’s literally designed to do this.”

“i thought you were supposed to be taking care of it tonight,” they shot back.

“i am, but it’s just— can’t you hear it over the phone?” you snapped. “it’s like it’s possessed. i’ve tried everything, but it’s not stopping.”

you heard a sigh on the other end, and then a rustling noise. “fine. i’ll come over.”

within fifteen minutes, C was standing in your doorway, wearing a dark green hoodie and gray sweatpants, looking very much like they regretted every life decision that had led them to this moment. they made a beeline for the fake baby, picking it up awkwardly, their movements stiff and unsure.

“you’re holding it the wrong way,” you said immediately, wincing as the baby wailed louder.

they glared at you. “no, i’m not.”

“yes, you are. you have to support its head.”

“i am supporting its head,” they growled through gritted teeth. “this thing’s just broken or something.”

you crossed your arms, trying not to lose your patience entirely. “great, so we’re already terrible parents and it’s only day one.”

C shot you a look of half-exasperation and half-amusement. “well, it’s not like we’re competing for ‘parents of the year,’ are we?”

“oh, trust me, we’re not even good enough to be in the running.”

***

by the end of week one, things had escalated.

“i can’t believe you dressed it in that,” you said, eyeing the baby’s outfit with utter disdain. it was a simple onesie, with little ducks printed all over it, but to you, it was the equivalent of committing some kind of fashion crime.

“what’s wrong with it?” C snapped, not in the mood for another one of your critiques.

“it looks ridiculous. you couldn’t have picked something more… i don’t know, neutral?”

“neutral?” C scoffed, narrowing their eyes at you. “what, were you expecting it to wear a three-piece suit? maybe a little tie and cufflinks? it’ll end up looking like a mini version of your dad.”

“at least it wouldn’t look like a clown.”

C threw their hands up in frustration. “oh my god, it’s a baby. it’s supposed to look cute.”

“that isn’t cute.”

“i thought it was cute!”

“well, it’s not. and now we look like idiots.”

“we?” C let out a sarcastic laugh. “last time i checked, i dressed it while you were too busy pretending to care.”

“i care!” you protested, your voice rising.

“really? because you didn’t seem to care last night when i was the one who had to stay up until 4 a.m.”

you crossed your arms, glaring at C. “i told you i had practice. we agreed that i’d take care of it over the weekend.”

“yeah, well, the baby didn’t get the memo.” C turned to grab the diaper bag, slinging it over their shoulder. “it’s your turn tonight, by the way. don’t be a deadbeat this time.”

“i can’t take it with me to hockey,” you said, your voice flat.

“then figure something out,” C snapped. “i have chess club to attend as well.”

you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. “this is impossible.”

“you’re telling me.”

***

come tuesday morning, you were a zombie. dark circles under your eyes, your body aching from both the lack of sleep and the lingering soreness from practice. when you met up with C in the hallway before class, you didn’t bother hiding your exhaustion.

“rough night?” they asked, though there was a smirk playing at the corners of their mouth.

“i hope you choke on your chess pieces,” you muttered, glaring at them.

they raised an eyebrow. “such hostility. it’s not good for our charlie, you know.”

“charlie’s fine. i’m the one who’s falling apart.”

“well, you’re supposed to be a co-parent,” they said, their tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “maybe if you actually tried…”

“oh, don’t you dare lecture me about trying,” you snapped. “you’re the one who left me with the baby for three whole days.”

“you’re the one who wanted the weekend slot.”

“it was monday yesterday!”

C opened their mouth to argue, but mrs. wentworth appeared before either of you could get another word in.

“how’s it going with little charlie?” she asked with a smile that was far too cheery for how sleep-deprived you felt.

“great,” C said immediately, flashing a charming smile that was only reserved for faculty members.

you shot them a look that could kill. “‘great?’ really?”

mrs. wentworth raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension. “is there something you want to add?”

you crossed your arms, biting your tongue. the last thing you needed was a lecture on communication from your teacher. “no, it’s fine. we’re doing… great, yes.”

“fantastic,” she said with a smile. “just remember, it’s important to create a healthy, loving environment for your child.”

as soon as she walked away, you turned to C. “loving environment? you couldn’t even be bothered to show up last night.”

they shrugged, unbothered. “i had chess club after school.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, shaking your head. “i can’t wait for this project to be over.”

***

the arguing reached a fever pitch by the middle of the second week. it seemed like every little thing about the baby was grounds for debate.

“you’re not holding it right,” C said, standing over you as you tried to rock the baby to sleep.

you sighed out in irritation. “oh my god, can you just back off for once?”

“i’m serious, you’re supposed to hold it like this,” they insisted, demonstrating with an exaggerated motion, as if they were some kind of baby-holding expert now.

“you do realize it’s not even real, right? the sensors won’t know the difference.”

“that’s not the point.”

you clenched your jaw, doing your best to ignore them as you continued rocking the baby. it was past midnight, and you were exhausted—more exhausted than you’d ever been in your life. who knew a robot baby could be this draining? C, on the other hand, seemed to be operating on a combination of stubbornness and sheer arrogance, unwilling to back down from any argument.

“why are you so obsessed with doing everything your way?” you muttered under your breath.

“i’m not obsessed, i just don’t want us to fail.”

“oh, please, we’re not going to fail because of how i hold the stupid thing.”

“well, it’s crying now, isn’t it?” they shot back, crossing their arms.

you glared at them. “it’s crying because you won’t shut up.”

C huffed in frustration, running a hand through their hair. “fine. you know what? fine. you handle it. i’m done.”

“who’s the deadbeat now?” you snarked as they started storming off to the corner. they stopped in their tracks when they heard you and, with a barely suppressed groan, stomped back to you.

“back so soon?” you asked in faux surprise before thrusting the baby toward them. “your turn.”

C rolled their eyes, grumbling under their breath as they resigned themself to doing the baby-holding now.

***

by the time the project finally came to an end, you and C were barely on speaking terms. the constant bickering, the sleepless nights, and the stress of trying to keep a fake baby “alive” had taken its toll. you were both exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally.

when you handed charlie back to mrs. wentworth, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over you. it was finally over.

“well,” mrs. wentworth said, eyeing the two of you with a bemused expression, “i hope this has been a… productive learning experience.”

“yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “something like that.”

she gave you both a tight smile. “i’ll be docking points for the… tension between you two. i did remind you that it’s important to maintain a healthy environment for your child.”

you and C both opened your mouths to protest, but she held up a hand. “no need to argue. you’ve both done enough of that already.”

as you walked out of the classroom, the weight of the past two weeks hung between you. it wasn’t until you were halfway down the hallway that C turned to you, not meeting your eyes.

“all things considered…” they started, their voice low and reluctant, like they were pulling teeth just to get the words out, “you weren’t that bad of a partner.”

you blinked, turning your head sharply to look at them, unsure if you had heard them correctly. the very same person who had spent the last two weeks criticizing every little thing you did, was actually complimenting you?

“wait, what?” you said, your voice dripping with incredulity. “did you just say something nice to me? are you feeling okay?”

C rolled their eyes, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of their lips. “don’t get too excited. i’m just saying… you didn’t completely screw it up.”

you couldn’t help but let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “wow, high praise coming from you. if this was a real baby, it would probably be dead by now with the way we handled things.”

C chuckled softly, the sound catching you off guard. it wasn’t their usual arrogant laugh, the one that always made you want to punch them. this was different—quieter, more genuine. they shrugged, their shoulders relaxed as they glanced at you.

“yeah, maybe. but…” they hesitated for a second, their pale green eyes flickering to yours before quickly looking away. “i wouldn’t have asked for another partner.”

the words hit you like a slow-motion realization, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite process what they had just said. you stared at them, mouth slightly open, completely taken aback.

before you could ask what them meant, they were already walking off, their long strides taking them down the hallway.

“good luck for your practice,” they tossed over their shoulder, their voice casual, as if they hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you.

you stood there, frozen in place, your mind racing to make sense of it. what did they mean by that? were they actually being sincere? and why did they say it like it wasn’t a big deal?

the hallway felt suddenly quieter, the distant chatter of other students fading into the background as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened. your heart was pounding a little faster, and you felt an unfamiliar warmth creeping up your neck.

why the hell am i getting flustered over this? you thought, shaking your head as if that would clear the confusion.

you let out a slow breath, your mind replaying C’s words: i wouldn’t have asked for another partner.

why did that make your heart skip a beat? this was C—the same person who had criticized every little thing you did, the one who would normally rather die than give you a compliment. and yet, here you were, feeling oddly flattered and confused.

you were about to turn and head toward the gym lockers to get your hockey gears for practice when you realized your hands were still clenching the care guide from the project. you looked down at it, then back at the direction C had walked off in, their figure now disappearing around a corner.

a small, involuntarily giddy smile crept onto your face.

maybe they weren’t that bad of a partner either.

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 3

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: a couple weeks go by and you’ve been hanging out with evan daily. you’re starting to let your guard down when a guy in one of your classes approaches and asks for help in class. evan sees this, and can’t help the jealousy that builds inside of him.

word count: 2.8k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: this chapter got away from me, this was so fun to write and i really love how it turned out! from this chapter on there’s a lot of them running into each other on campus which i know is unrealistic but just ignore it! enjoy<3

warnings: lack of experience!reader, slowburn?? slight enemies to lovers???, jealous!buck, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You hang out with Evan everyday for the next two weeks in the library, trying to get the assignment mostly done before either of your classes pile up too much. Each time you spend time with him, you can’t help but open up a little bit more. You can’t help it; he’s just so easy to talk to. You almost begin to think of him as a friend.

This isn’t lost on him either. He’s noticed how your attitude is slowly beginning to slip, and the way you give him that sweet little smile when he says something funny. It makes his insides turn in a way he hasn’t felt before, and everytime he sees your eyes crinkle paired with hearing your soft laugh, he’s sure he’d do just about anything to experience it again.

You’re sitting in the library yet again, at the same table that you sat at the first time you hung out with him. It’s become your unofficial meeting table, as the first person who arrives, mostly Evan, always saves it for the other.

You both have your laptops open, but your assignment is long forgotten. He’s in the middle of telling you a story of when his parents forced him to sign up for baseball at 8 years old, even after he had begged to be put in football instead. He tells you how he refused to participate, and his coach had to call his parents to pick him up in the middle of practice because not only was he refusing to play, he was also sitting in the middle of the field so no one else could play either. You’re laughing softly at his words, your brows raised in disbelief, when you feel a presence beside you. You notice Evan’s eyes trail up as he stops talking, and a frown makes its way onto his face. You turn in your seat and look up at the person beside you, smiling when you realize it’s a guy from your English class. Elijah, you think.

“Hey. Were you in class on Monday?” Elijah asks you as he stands a little too close for Evan’s liking. Elijah’s smile widens when he sees you nod, and continues. “Awesome. Could I get your notes? I have no idea what Professor Curran is talking about most of the time.” he tells you, pulling out the chair on the other side of you and sitting down, his body angled at you.

“Yeah, he can be a little hard to follow along with, but I’ve had him a few times, so I’ve learned to keep up with him most of the time.” you say, chuckling softly. You turn to your laptop and pull up your notes for that class as Evan rolls his eyes, very clearly annoyed that this guy is taking all your attention away from him. You don’t even notice, your focus now completely on helping Elijah out.

“Wait, really? Can you explain the Great Exhibition to me? I don’t get it.” Evan can’t help but scoff quietly and roll his eyes at this guy. He doesn’t understand the Great Exhibition? It was a big building of stuff, what’s so hard to understand? His eyes narrow as he notices the way the guy is looking at you, eyes trailing down your body as you look at your laptop screen, starting to explain the Great Exhibition happily. He’s clearly only over here because he thinks you’re attractive, and this doesn’t sit right with Evan.

“Could we maybe do this another time?” he asks, a hint of annoyance in his voice, despite his best efforts to hide the jealousy bubbling inside of him. He has a fake smile plastered on his face as he looks at you. He knows he really can’t do much about this guy, it’s not like you’re his, but he’s still gonna try.

“It’ll only take a second. I’m sure you can sit quietly for a few minutes.” you tease him softly, barely looking at him before your eyes move from your screen to Elijah, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I don’t know about that, princess. You’ve met me, haven’t you?” This earns a small laugh from you as you finally look over at him, giving him a sweet smile.

“Please?” you say, just above a whisper, your eyes silently pleading with him. You really are interested in the Great Exhibition, so you’re happy to take a break on your assignment and talk about it. He huffs, sinking into his chair, mumbling a defeated “fine” as he crosses his arms over his chest. You give him a wide smile before turning back to Elijah, continuing to talk about your class.

Evan sits quietly for a minute or two, shooting daggers at Elijah as he leans closer to you, taking the chance to look down at the cleavage you have peeking out of your top when your eyes are focused on the screen. God, you seem so oblivious to the way he’s looking at you, Evan thinks. It almost makes him sick to his stomach to think about you hanging out with this guy without him here.

It pushes Evan over the edge when you laugh at something stupid Elijah says and lean closer to him instinctively as you do so. Evan sits up straight, eyes narrowing even further at the man before leaning over to you and draping an arm around the back of your chair as he looks at your screen.

“You’re a good teacher, princess. Maybe you can teach me a few things too.” he says softly, a hint of suggestiveness in his voice. You finally look over at him, fighting back a smile as you catch his tone, momentarily forgetting about Elijah. This makes Evan smirk, his eyes glancing at the man as if to say “I win.”

“Are you really that interested in the Great Exhibition?” you tease softly, not believing for a second that he really cares about what you’re saying. Surely he’s just bored.

“Yeah, I love the Great Exhibition. The Crystal Palace, and all that. Fascinating.” he trails off, which makes you laugh softly. He notices the guy smirk as your chest moves when you laugh, and his eyes narrow for a moment before he continues, really wanting to show the man that you’re off limits. Even if you’re technically not his. He leans closer to you again, putting his other arm in front of you on the table, almost as if he’s trapping you between this arm and the one on the back of your chair, marking his territory. You bite the inside of your cheek softly as he moves, breath catching in your throat as you feel the heat radiating off of him.

He sees Elijah’s stare move between him and you for a moment before he clears his throat awkwardly, as if finally understanding that flirting with you so clearly around Evan may not be a good idea, and knowing that he has lost your attention.

“Well, I don’t wanna take up all your time. Maybe we could, uh, hang out after class next week? You could catch me up?” he tells you, which pulls you out of your thoughts of Evan. You let out a shaky breath and turn to Elijah, giving him a nod as you try to slow your racing heart at Evan’s closeness. Evan rolls his eyes at Elijah’s words, leaning back and squaring his shoulders, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he stares at the smaller man.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Or, there’s no lecture in our room before class, so we can just go a little early instead?” you say after a moment, smiling softly.

“I have a class right before ours. Maybe we could walk to the coffee shop off campus together after class instead?” Elijah asks you, licking his lips as his eyes glance down to your chest yet again. This man doesn’t know when to give up, Evan thinks, his mind clouded with jealousy.

“Yeah, that works.” you tell him, bringing your hands together on the table and fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“Awesome. See you then.” he replies smoothly, giving you a smirk as he gets up and walks away. You turn back to Evan after a second, being met with a twisted look on his face and his brows raised.

“What?” you ask, laughing softly at this look on his face. Your face grows hot as you turn to look back at your laptop, thinking about hanging out with Elijah next week.

“What? Is that guy serious?” he asks, annoyance laced in his voice. You turn back to Evan, raising a brow. Why does he seem so upset by this? You’re just helping him catch up on class.

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“He doesn’t understand the Great Exhibition? It’s not that hard to understand.” You sigh, shaking your head. He had a point, sure, but why else would he ask you to explain it to him?

“Well, not everyone’s as smart as you are.” you say, a hint of teasing in your voice as you give him a small smile, hoping to change the subject. He doesn’t look amused, though.

“I’m serious. He just wants to get you alone. How much do you wanna bet he’s not even busy before your class.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You scoff, shaking your head.

“I’m not talking to you about this. Let’s just work on our assignment.” There’s no way what Evan’s saying is true. And you really don’t want to talk to him about going out with another guy if it is. You turn back to your laptop, pulling back up your assignment document, getting ready to add to it.

“Would you go out with him if he asked?” he asks after a moment, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like the way you’re brushing him off. Jealousy builds inside of him as he imagines you going out with anyone other than him. You sigh, shutting your laptop, knowing he won’t drop it. After hanging out with him for two weeks straight, you know how stubborn he is.

“I don’t know, Evan. Why?” you say, defeated, straightening your back as you meet his eyes. You’re not really sure what else to say. It’s so out of the realm of possibility, you think, that you don’t even want to think about it.

“Just curious.” He shrugs slightly, pursing his lips. He knows he can’t do much because you’re not his, and he doesn’t wanna be that guy. But God, he doesn’t want you going out with that douchebag.

You duck your head slightly, trying to meet his eyes as you see his eyes look away, but you feel like he’s shutting down. You sigh softly and turn back to your laptop, opening it yet again to continue working. Is he jealous? You can’t tell. This is so far out of your expertise that you’re really not sure what to do other than ignore it.

You hang out for a few more hours and he seems to lighten up as you joke with him, and he feels himself forgetting about Elijah more and more each time you give him that sweet little smile. You close your laptop once you realize it’s almost time for your class, and he does the same, packing his bag up.

“Can I walk you to class?” he asks as he stands up and puts his bag over his shoulder. You nod, zipping up your bag. He picks up your bag once you're done and you furrow your brows, looking at the bag outstretched in front of him. Your eyes soften as he holds your backpack straps up, waiting for you to put your arms through, and you look down, fighting back a smile as you turn and put your arms through the straps. You feel his fingers touching you as he slides the straps up your arms, shivering softly as you feel his breath hitting your exposed skin. You take a step forward once your bag is in place, clearing your throat as you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him and thank him softly.

You walk side by side out of the library and across campus to your next lecture. As you’re walking, he finally speaks again in a soft voice.

“Would you really go out with him if he asked?” You look down, biting your lip softly, too nervous to look at him.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly. You know he doesn’t make your stomach flip as much as Evan, but you’re also not sure how Evan feels about you. You don’t know if you’d necessarily turn him down, but if both Evan and Elijah somehow wanted you, you know who the clear winner is.

“I don’t want you to.” he tells you after a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t want to say too much; he doesn’t want to hold you back if you really want to go out with him, but he knows it’ll hurt him too much to see you with him, especially if he knows he could’ve said something and didn’t.

“Why?” you ask, your voice just above a whisper, keeping your eyes straight ahead. You’re too afraid to look. You’re scared he’ll be able to see the feelings you have for him if he looks into your eyes.

“I don’t know. I just don’t trust him. He was looking at you like a piece of meat.” You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face as he says this. He may not necessarily be jealous, but you can’t help but pretend for a moment. You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t see the look on Evan’s face. If you were to look over at him, you’d see the clear jealousy across his face, and the way his eyes are silently praying that you don’t go out with him as he stares straight ahead of you two.

“Okay.” you whisper after a moment. Once you make it to the building your class is in, he holds the door open for you. You bite you lip as you duck in, thanking him quietly.

“Okay, what?” His voice is full of hope as he watches you walk into the building, trying to keep his eyes off your ass as you pass him.

“I won’t go out with him. If he asks.” you say softly, licking your lips as you turn to look up at him walking through the door. A large smile breaks onto his face for a second, but it’s gone as soon as it appears, trying to act cool. He nods once, shoving his hands back into his pockets, but there’s still an excited look in his eyes.

“Good.” he finishes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so big before, not that he gives you long to study it. You smile to yourself as you turn back forward, walking the rest of the way to your lecture hall. You’re not exactly sure what this means, but you think he might actually feel the same way about you as you feel about him.

You turn to him once you get to the door, smiling up at him, your face still hot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, and he nods, smirking down at you as he holds the lecture hall door open for you.

“Yeah, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says smugly before nodding his head towards the door. “Go to class.” You nod, looking down as you walk under the arm that's holding the door and into the room. Once you’re a safe enough distance from the door you let out a long sigh, laughing softly to yourself.

Okay, maybe you will tell your roommate about him.

After your dreadfully long class, you finally make your way home, still trying to fight the way your stomach is twisting from your encounter with Evan.

You decide on the walk home that you’re going to make cookies. Ever since high school, when you feel any sort of strong emotions, you bake. You need something to put your energy into, and your roommate knows that. So, when she walks into your apartment later and sees you aggressively stirring cookie dough, she drops her bag and walks into the kitchen carefully, eyes glued to your back.

“What’s up?” she asks slowly, trying not to disturb you too much. Usually when you bake, you’re sad, so she’s careful in the way she speaks to you. She lets out a breath as you turn to her with a smile on your face, jumping slightly as your oven beeps, signalling that it’s at 350°.

“Nothing.” you trail off, and you can’t help the way your smile grows as she narrows her eyes, confusion on her face.

“So why are we baking?” she asks, the smile growing on her face as she takes in your expression. She can almost feel the excitement radiating off of you, and she can’t wait to hear what you have to say.

“There may be a, um, guy.” you start, waiting to see her reaction. She’s known you for a long time. She knows your lack of experience when it comes to guys, so she can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips and the wide grin that erupts on her face.

“Who?” she squeals, sitting down at the island stool, holding her head up in her hand as she watches you go back to stirring the cookie dough.

“His name’s Evan.” you start, beginning to explain how you met and how you’ve been hanging out every day for the last two weeks, working on an assignment. She squeals again, and seems to have an endless amount of questions, which you answer happily. It’s nice to finally talk about him, and most of the rest of the night is spent telling her everything about him. God, you’re screwed, you think. You’ve known this guy for two weeks and he has you acting like you’re 15.

next chapter

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[meanbossart]

what would have to go differently in DU Drows story for him to take the bhaalist route? would it be a split second decision in the temple or something he’d have to slowly accept over the course of the game?

EDIT: I slightly misread the question, the answer still holds but the first line is about what has to be done for him to turn AGAINST Bhaal.

Both mechanically and story-wise, it's pretty simple. He just has to be taken into the group kicking and screaming 🤷‍���️

DU drow rejects Bhaal because he finds the world to be fun, he finds the people in it to be interesting and strange and he doesn't see any benefit to getting rid of it. Wyll may get on his nerves but he wants so badly to see the day where he snaps and stands up for himself, Halsin is annoying but boy have him and Astarion had a riot making fun of him behind his back, him and Jaheira get on each other's nerves for fun and Minsc is a living fascination - not to mention the endless NPCs that provide a moment's entertainment. Yes, Shadowheart sparing the Nightsong and Astarion's lifestory played a big part in his choices, but I think a base had to be set first, otherwise he could have very easily twisted the lesson's he learned from them into something that fit the pro-Bhaal narrative. He doesn't want to kill the world, the world is hysterical to him.

Also, BG3 seems to have a theme about showing compassion and extending empathy even to people who don't deserve it. A lot of its characters are the opposite of nice and personable throughout the vast majority of the game, and what you end up clinging to are glimpses of humanity that they try to hide from you - Shadowheart is objectively exhausting to be around, Lae'zel is literally and figuratively a social alien, Astarion is Astarion and realistically we would have all blasted him into the horizon team-rocket-style if he wasn't funny. I hated all three of these characters going into the game and now they own my balls, because they ultimately charmed me with something or other despite their flaws.

(They are also all hot, to be fair, but this is a fantasy video game so what'reyougonnado. Though personally none of them are my type.)

Sorry about the tangent, but I think that gets my point across well; DU drow needs to be given the benefit of the doubt for absolutely no good reason, as long as that happens, he would have no motivation in the slightest to turn to Bhaal. Even if romanced, a socially ostracized DU drow could not be persuaded to turn away from his father.

In the gameplay, this would translate to the MC encouraging him to see the silver-lining in things, either by showing kindness and understanding or emphasizing the entertaining moments they've provided you with; also, playing along to his mean-streaked humor instead of reprehending him for not always having a kind thing to say about everybody. You have to either see the best in him, or turn people into a joke instead of a threat. Done that, he would move into Act 3 without any inclination to take Bhaals's gift.

On the flipside, I think a romanced partner could persuade a "good" DU drow to consider it, though. By valuing his strength and potential-influence instead of his personality, he would arrive at the conclusion that to keep you, he must continue to pursue power, which would ultimately land you in the place Astarion ends up in his Bhaalist AU.

[jermer10]

Could I ask for all of the tf2 mercs getting saved in a fight by the reader in a very dramatic/romantic way? Something like the reader using a shield to protect them from bombs/bullet while they pull the merc close to them? I think it would just be real funny for the mercs to be in the "damsel in distress" position. (If not all mercs then please atleast Demo, Engie and Sniper)(I love your writing by the way)

TF2 damsels in distress

gn reader | thank u for the ask anon!

includes: demoman, engineer, sniper

drabbles under the cut :P

Demoman: The battlefield is a mess of explosion and chaos. Demo’s got that wild grin plastered on his face as he tosses grenade after grenade - he’s in his element, laughter bubbling up between the sounds of battle. But in his enthusiasm, he doesn’t notice the enemy bomb rolling straight for him, its timer ticking down far too quickly. Before he can react, you dive in front of him, shield raised. The explosion rocks the ground, but the shield holds, keeping both of you safe. Without a second thought, you pull him close, his face pressing into your chest as you shield him from any further debris.

Demoman blinks up at you, dazed and disoriented. “By the gods... ye just saved me arse!” He’s half laughing, half in shock, his arms coming up to cling to you, despite himself. “Didn’t know I’d need savin’ today, but I ain’t complainin’!” He looks up at you with a cheeky grin and flushed cheeks, throwing a dramatic arm around your waist. “Ach, me hero! How can I ever repay ye for rescuing poor ol' me?” he teases, though there’s a genuine gleam of gratitude in his eyes. You smirk down at him, hand still firmly on his back. "Just stay alive, Dem."

Engineer: Engineer wipes the sweat off his brow, wrench in hand as he hurries to fix his sentry. The fight’s getting heavier, bullets flying, but his focus is on his machinery. He doesn’t even notice the red sniper dot that’s settled on his chest until it’s too late. But just as the shot rings out, you’re there. You lunge in front of him, shield raised, and the bullet ricochets harmlessly off its surface. You pull him close, pressing him into your side as you block any further shots.

Engineer blinks, wide-eyed, and his wrench slips from his grasp. “Well, I’ll be damned…” His face flushes red as he realizes what just happened—he’s in your arms, safe, and you just saved his hide. “Didn’t expect to be the one gettin’ rescued today,” he mutters, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He’s clearly flustered, trying to play it off cool. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”

You glance down at him with a smirk, enjoying the rare sight of the usually composed Engineer looking like the damsel in distress. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ain’t often I get to be on this end of things. Much obliged, darlin’.” With a wink, you pull him back onto his feet, though he sticks close for a few moments longer, still rattled—and more than a little impressed.

Sniper: Sniper’s crouched in his usual perch, scope trained on the battlefield, picking off targets with precision. But even he can’t see everything, and when a stray enemy flanks him, gunfire erupts in his direction, too fast for him to react. Just before the bullets tear through him, you dive in, shield up. The bullets bounce off with a metallic clang, you grab Sniper’s collar, yanking him down and pulling him close to your chest.

He lets out a soft grunt of surprise, completely caught off guard as you press him into you, shielding him from further danger. Sniper, the lone wolf, the sharpshooter, now cradled in your arms like some helpless civilian. “What in the…?” He stares up at you, wide-eyed, his hat knocked askew. You smirk down at him, teasingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” For a long moment, he’s just quiet, still processing the fact that you—not him—were the one doing the saving. Slowly, a small, lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his cheeks flushing red. “Not used to being on this side of things.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur, still holding him close. He lets out a soft laugh, looking both amused and embarrassed as he adjusts his hat. “Reckon I’ll owe ya for that one,” he mutters, still looking a little flustered. But he doesn’t move away immediately, instead staying close for just a bit longer, his quiet gratitude lingering between you.