#i don't know what the point is here besides that I'm losing my mind

[faceofpoe]

Okay but like the armor and the paint and

just. If Tech had been CX-2.

Something about like. idk he was always the only who didn't match, he was the standout in the white armor. (anyone have good headcanons for this?)

And then Crosshair gets the Imperial black; and the rest of the Batch alter theirs so that even when Crosshair returns, he's still the odd-one out.

But like if Tech had gone in the even more stripped down black armor right as Crosshair is returning to the grey&red... and they both still stand out, not quite in sync with the others...

Until the whole squad strips the paint back down to the surface and are left with

IDK something about how Crosshair never matches the others in the show (after Aftermath) until this moment from 3.13 and how stripping away all that history (the mistakes and regrets and so on...) and taking the armor back down to where it began...

And how it would have matched the hypothetical CX-Tech in that moment, all 5 of them for the first time...

[ace-turned-confused]

sickening desire

joel masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader summary: you and your stepdad don't have much in common, but you always try to keep things friendly. back home for college break, he's not making it very easy. word count: 2,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a skirt, big ol' age gap (reader is nineteen), food mention, joel is big & beefy, stepcest, cheating, fucked morals all round, pet names, joel's a disgusting dirty perv (i'm so serious), smut, grinding, mentions of m & f masturbation, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, 1 spank, creampie, dirty talk, sprinkle of daddy kink, praise kink, panty kink a/n: written for @beefrobeefcal's MARRIED JOEL SITS ON YOU prompt - i got to witness the birth of this on discord, and thought how can i make this cute idea deranged instead, so here we are. idk how all this happened. this is stepcest, you have been warned. if it's not your thing then pls scroll on, no hard feelings in here <3 not beta'd

After weeks of phone calls, texts and endless hounding from your mother, you caved and decided to come home for your college break. She was missing you like crazy, and apparently you had aunts and cousins who were just dying to see you after so long, no doubt ready to bombard you with questions about the life of a college girl as if you were the first of the kind.

So, you came home to your mom and her new-ish husband, Joel Miller. You can count the number of times you’ve met him on one hand, one of those occasions being their wedding. You’re not sure how they make it work, but then opposites do attract…

Marriage has been good to Joel, his mental health and financial stability have improved, and overall he seems a happier person — not that you could tell from looking at him, with a permanent scowl etched on his face. The only ‘drawback’ seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline — his jeans now too tight around his thighs, the seams visibly strained, and his tummy poking out past his belt. They no doubt add to his eternal pissed-off facade, but he’s far too stubborn to admit he needs to buy new ones.

Your mom reminds him, often, how much he’s filled out in recent times, and judging by the bitterness in her voice, she clearly doesn’t approve. You’re not sure why she disapproves, but you’d never admit that.

From what you know, he’s neither an overly good nor a bad guy, he’s just… Joel, and the two of you have nothing to talk about, so you keep your distance out of courtesy. At least, you try to.

Since you’ve been home, you’ve caught him staring a few times but pin it down to aged eyesight. Most days he greets you in the kitchen with a husky ‘mornin’ sweetpea’, and makes a point of brushing up against you, half hard and warm in his threadbare sweatpants. He’ll place a hand on the small of your back when he stands beside you, pinky wandering down to toy with your waistband.

You cover up the way your breath catches and stop yourself from clenching your legs together every time — either he doesn’t have a grasp on personal space, or he’s doing this on purpose. The way he watches you move around once he’s sat down says all you need to know. You try not to think about it.

-

You’re flicking between channels one night when the front door clicks open, the heavy stomp of workboots echoing down the passage and into the room. Joel waltzes in, dumping his keys and without a word, sits directly onto you.

“What the fuck?”

“This is my chair, sweetpea. Not my fault you’re in it.”

You try pushing him off you, a losing battle with the extra kilos he’s put on since tying the knot with your mom. He mumbles something to you, his words lost underneath the TV and your strained grunting.

“What?” You huff at him, growing more and more agitated.

“I asked, you gettin’ off on this like you did sittin’ on my lap?”

Your mind swirls as you try to pinpoint what he means. It’s just when you’re about to give him lip and ask him what the fuck he’s on about, that you remember — and suddenly you wish the world would just swallow you whole.

-

During Sunday’s roast lunch, you were surrounded by extended family, filling in the blanks and avoiding the painfully personal questions; Joel spent the day with his standard disgruntled look and your mom was overzealous in her storytelling — everything and everyone just how you remembered.

Everyone broke off into smaller bubbles after lunch, and you stared at Joel as he unbuckled his belt and slumped back on your aunt’s couch — he stared right back at you, head cocked to one side as he weaselled his way into your mind with just a slight smirk and a wink, large hand resting teasingly over his crotch. You left the room, intentionally distancing yourself from him the rest of the day.

It was late afternoon by the time you begrudgingly hugged each family member goodbye and settled in the backseat next to Joel, some extras tagging along for the free ride back to your neighbourhood. With your headphones in and all other passengers occupied, you tried to nap the rest of the way home and regenerate the energy siphoned from you throughout the day. You had no complaints, up until now.

You sat up when your mom stopped off at a different house with just over half the trip still to go. Her heart of gold meant she’d offered a lift home to too many people for her one car, so being the youngest, she suggested you just squash up or sit on someone's lap… Which is fine when you’re nine, not nineteen.

And not just anyone offered up a place, no, Joel lifted his hand in the air and said you could sit on him — with no other way to get home, you pinched your eyes and cringed, but did it anyway. You were fine for the first 15 or so minutes until the road became uneven, and you realised just how fucked this whole thing was — when you first sat down on Joel, he wasn’t hard. You took a breath to try to steady yourself without drawing extra attention.

It was just a… natural response? God, that doesn’t make it any better.

You shifted forward, tried to reposition your weight over his legs and knees and told him you were just getting stiff — wrong fucking choice of words as you became even warmer than before.

Your mom stopped off to refuel along the way, everyone climbing out of the car to stretch, and you made a beeline for the bathroom, splashing yourself with water to cool down.

Joel watched as you came back to the car and you tried not to stare when you saw he was fully hard in his jeans; you felt mortified when you saw the damp patch you’d left on the fabric.

Back on Joel’s lap for the rest of the trip, everyone else was asleep with your mom still driving, radio turned up and blissfully unaware. You’d be able to forget about this, lock the memory away and move on if you hadn’t been so fucking turned on.

What’s worse, you making your stepdad hard, or him making you wet?

-

Joel snuck his hands onto your hips and you tensed, caught off guard by his touch.

“Keep ya steady,” he muttered, fingers digging into your skin.

Holding onto the seat in front for balance, he felt you were trying to lift your weight off him. He tightened his grip on you, slowly pulling you down onto him completely. There was no going back — he was fully hard by now, so he may as well get the most from this.

He pulled you to lean into his chest, his voice quiet in your ear, “S’alright sweetpea, almost there.”

Your head was turned to watch your mom the whole time, and Joel should have cared, but he just couldn’t, not when you were all warm and sweet on top of him. You stayed taut the entire trip home, Joel’s hands on your hips and bulge pressed deliciously against your core. He shifted you atop him every so often, and you desperately wanted to hate how good it felt.

When you finally arrived home, you clambered out of the car and left everyone to fend for themselves, darting for your room. You were about to close the door when you caught Joel staring again, the front of his jeans damp and darkened from where you were perched. You unpacked your clothes, sorted out your washing, and even took a shower but the incessant ache was still there. You finally gave in and shoved your hand between your legs.

-

A loud advert plays on the TV and brings you back into reality, Joel still firmly on top of you.

“Don’t act all fuckin’ innocent on me now, I know those panties of yours were gettin’ all wet with you grindin’ down on me like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were real quick to run off to your room that night, you had to stick your fingers up in that cunt of yours to get yourself off?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to. I know you dream of gettin’ fucked real good by your daddy, huh?” He twists to look at you, the motion pushing more of his weight onto you. “No point in arguin’ with me, I heard you that night… I’ve heard you on a lot of nights since you been home, always callin’ out for me.”

You don’t talk back as you keep pushing to get him off of you — he has enough leverage just from hearing you at night, he doesn’t also need to know that you are enjoying having his weight on you like this, unable to fight back or do anything about it.

“Now you got nothin’ to say?” He lifts himself slightly and gestures for you to get up, grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “Did I say I was done talkin’?”

He faces you towards the TV, standing you between his now spread legs. Skating his hands up the back of your legs, goosebumps rise on your skin as he moves higher and higher, lifting the hem of your skirt as he goes. He kneads the swell of your ass, sliding his thumbs under the edge of your panties.

“These the ones you had on that day?”

“Huh?”

“Barely touched you and you already can’t think straight. Are these the panties you had on when you sat on my lap?”

“Uh, no? I don’t know, Joel.”

He pulls your panties up to expose more of your skin, smacking a hand down on the side of your ass. You jolt forward at the impact, a fresh wave of arousal seeping out between your folds.

“‘S a real shame, I bet they were soaked right through, huh? Soakin’ ‘em right now, the way you’re droolin’ for me. You wanna know somethin’, sweetpea?” You don’t bother answering, lost in the feeling of finally having his hands on you. “Never used to enjoy doin’ laundry before you came to visit, but now… Well, now I get to see all the pretty panties you have. And I always know when you’ve been thinkin’ of me, they get extra dirty.”

He reaches up to grip your hip, his other hand twisting to push in between your legs. Your hips jerk as he traces his fingers along your damp panties, pushing up into you against the fabric.

“Seems like you actually were gettin’ off on havin’ me on top of you…” You crane your neck at the clink of his belt buckle and watch as he drags his zipper down. He stares up at you the whole time. “But now you’re gonna sit on me again.”

Pulling you backwards by your waist, he keeps your skirt lifted and hooks a finger into the gusset of your panties, tugging them aside. He runs his fingers through your folds, already sticky with need. You clench your legs when he pulls away again, and he sighs, frantic and satisfied; turning around again you see he’s taken his cock in his hand, thick and hard, coating himself in your slick.

He guides you down onto him and a gasp slips from you as he drags the head of his cock through you to line himself up. Your gasps turn to a strangled moan as he pulls you to sit, sheathing himself completely — it’s a delicious stretch without any prep, and again you find yourself wishing you could hate this, hate him for doing this.

He lets your skirt drop down again as you settle on his lap, and picks up the TV remote with one hand, the other a vice grip on your waist. He flips through the channels, ignoring the fact you’re sitting firmly on him.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? We’re watchin’ TV, sweetpea. And you’re gonna be a good girl for me and sit still. With all the starin’ and whinin’ you do, this was only a matter of time.”

“And all the staring you do?”

“As if you don’t fuckin’ love it.” You clench around him at his words and he sniggers at you. “You’re real tight, sweetheart. Now sit still.”

-

You’re not sure how long you sit like this — Joel staring deadpan at the TV with his hands wrapped around your waist, and you aching for relief as you hold back from squirming on top of him. The initial sting has subsided, replaced now with a steady and simmering burn as you leak around him.

Your breathing deepens as you fight with yourself — do stay composed and try to win, or give in and let Joel make you feel good?

“Won’t lie, sweetpea, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had it in you.” His low voice draws you from your inner conflict. “‘Specially now that you got me in you.”

You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, and he punctuates himself with a lift of his hips, rolling you on him. Fuck it, just give in. Whimpering as he repeats the motion over and over, it’s the most he’s done the entire night.

“You wanna know somethin’ else?” He keeps grinding your hips against him, the stretch of his cock and the strain of your panties against your clit bringing you closer and closer. “Dunno if you’ve ever noticed your panties go missing? S’cause I took ‘em, sweetpea. I take your pretty panties and I use ‘em to jerk off, dirty or clean, doesn’t matter to me, s’long as they’re yours. I smell ‘em, I wrap ‘em around my cock, I picture you wearin’ ‘em when I come all over ‘em.”

At some point in his rambling, he’d snaked a hand around to your front and under your skirt, and shoved his fingers in your panties to circle your clit. Just like a lot of things lately, you’re trying to hate how much you love it.

“That’s it sweetpea, come all over your daddy.”

Your legs tense, trapping his hand as he works you through your high, murmuring praises in your ear as you writhe on top of him — unfortunately for you, it’s the hardest you’ve ever come. He doesn’t give you time to think, wrapping his arms around you to lift you up and bundling your arms behind your back.

“Stay there, ‘m not done with you.”

Steadying yourself by leaning on his jean-covered thighs, he starts pistoning up into you, over and over as he uses you for his own high. Squeezing your hips, he pulls you down to match his thrusts, the room filled with his grunting and your whining and the obscene squelch from between your legs each time he fills you. It’s not long before he starts shuddering underneath you, pulling you down hard as he spills into you with a groan.

He holds you, almost affectionately in his arms as he relaxes, warm breath being puffed into your neck as he nuzzles against you and his hands smoothing over your clothes. Turning to look at him, his lips are just parted and his pupils are blown wide. You try to discern the emotion behind his eyes, surging forward to press your lips to his instead, afraid of what the truth might be.

It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s almost pure, the way he kisses you back, the hairs of his beard and moustache prickling your skin as a hand comes up to cradle your face, the other still held around your waist. You pull back from him, and he has that usual deviant glint in his eyes when he opens them again.

He stands you in front of him, just like you were before this, and he pulls your panties back over your core. He waits and watches as his spend starts oozing out of you and gets absorbed into the already damp cotton.

“Definitely gonna make good use of these ones, sweetpea.” He winks as he stands up, tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, still sticky from both you and himself. “Next time you can wear ‘em, just like I told you.”

tagging some friendos from the wip wednesday snippets, Imk if you'd like to be taken off <3

@luxurychristmaspudding @whocaresstillthelouvre @milla-frenchy @clawdee @burntheedges

@greenwitchfromthewoods @yopossum @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @bubble-pop-eclectic

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[lis-likes-fics]

The Sound of His Voice

Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)

Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”

Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”

JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”

You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”

You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.

But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.

The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.

He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.

He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…

Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”

Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”

You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.

Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.

You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”

Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.

“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.

“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”

Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.

“Reid?”

Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”

“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods.

She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”

Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”

“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”

You sit up, “The hearts.”

Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”

Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”

JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”

Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”

“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.

“Learning?” Hotch asks.

Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”

“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”

“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.

Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.

“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.

Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”

“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.

Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”

Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”

“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.

Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”

He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”

“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.

“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.

He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”

There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”

He glances at you. A nod.

You nod back.

Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.

~

There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.

And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.

Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.

JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”

Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.

But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.

“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”

“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”

She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”

You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.

Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.

Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”

Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.

“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.

“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.

You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.

Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.

“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”

“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.

Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.

“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.

“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”

You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.

“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.

His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”

Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.

You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”

He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”

You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”

You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”

You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.

His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”

He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”

You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”

Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”

His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”

Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”

His smile grows. “Well…”

For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.

You love the way he talks.

Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...

[harunayuuka2060]

Neige: MC! *sniffles* You got hurt!

MC: I am alright, Neige... Though what are you doing here?

Vil: He insisted on coming with me when he heard about the news.

MC: ...

MC: *glances at Rook*

Rook: *smiles at them*

MC: ...

MC: *turns their attention back to Vil and Neige* Thank you both for your concern, but it was only a minor injury.

Vil: Your bandage on your arm says otherwise. *looking stern now*

MC: It's fine now since it's been treated.

Neige: MC, you should always be careful!

MC: I will. Thanks for reminding me, Neige.

Vil: ...

Vil: I checked the CCTV. You fought with the burglar.

MC: ...

MC: Yes.

Vil: Why didn't you wake me up?

MC: I didn't want to disturb your rest. Besides, I handled it just fine.

Vil: ...

Vil: You still got yourself injured. If it was Rook, he would—

MC: Yes. He's much capable to serve you. He was your vice housewarden when you were still studying in Night Raven College, right?

Vil: ...Yes.

MC: And I guess he has always been exceptional.

MC: He's the best for you, Vil. I'm sure he wouldn't mind working for you.

Vil: ...

MC's co-worker: Is your friend alright? I saw him walked out and dragged Neige LeBlanche with him.

MC: They had a schedule to follow.

Their co-worker: Ya veo. But Vil Schoenheit looked like he was fuming mad.

MC: ...

MC: That sounds like an exaggeration.

Their co-worker: Oh, yeah. Of course. What I mean is his aura, okay? It's burning.

MC: *shakes their head* Let's just get back to work.

Their co-worker: Oh wait! Rook. Rook just quit. I didn't know why, but he said that his job here is done.

MC: ...

MC: Vil must've hired him.

Their co-worker: That fast? Quite a privilege, no?

MC: *chuckles* *proceeds to continue with their task*

Rook: Roi du Poison, there must be a reason why Ami masqué refused your offer.

Vil: They've found out that we are affiliated to each other, Rook.

Rook: Oh! How could that be possible? I was certain I didn't raise any suspicion!

Vil: That doesn't matter now. My plan didn't work.

Rook: You shouldn't lose hope, Roi du Poison. I know deep inside that Ami masqué cherishes you. Maybe they just need more time to realize that.

Vil: ...

Vil: Rook, were you not listening to me when I told you about our story?

Rook: Non. I had listened intently. And my point still stands.

Vil: ...

Customer A: You lack energy today, MC. Did something happen?

MC: Huh? What do you mean?

Customer B: It feels like you're sulking about something. Or we could be wrong.

MC: ...

MC: You two seem to have been drinking a lot.

The customers: We're sober!

MC: It doesn't look like it to me.

The customers: Manager! Your concierge is judging us!

The manager: *chuckles and waves her hand dismissively*

The bartender: I think MC is sulking because Vil Schoenheit isn't here today.

The customers: Oh!

MC: No. That's not the reason at all. *carries the drunk woman*

The drunk woman: We're going home?

MC: Yes, miss. Is there someone waiting for you to be home?

The drunk woman: No...

MC: I see. We'll get going.

The bartender: Don't sulk! *as MC walks out of the nightclub with the customer*

The drunk woman: Looks like they're teasing you...

MC: Please don't mind them.

Vil: *staring at MC's phone number*

Vil: *decides to call them; not really hoping that MC would answer*

MC: Vil?

Vil: MC—

'MC~ You smell good~'

Vil: ...

MC: Please excuse me.

MC: Miss, you're inhaling the fabric conditioner.

'But this has never smelled so good before~'

Vil: Looks like you are in the middle of something.

MC: Ah, yes. Sorry. I will call you back. *hangs up*

Vil: ...

Vil: *smiles in irritation*

[zae-heeyyy]

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

[loviingpedri]

tripling the fun - jude and jobe bellingham

part 2 -> part 1 here

prompt: jude fulfills everyone’s dreams.

jude x fem!reader.

jobe & reader platonic soulmates

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguments (happy ending), jealous jude, all characters are fictional (except jude, jobe, and their parents)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

salt air, and the rust on your door.

flower in your hair, feet in the sand, salty air entering through your nose.

joining the annual vacation with the bellingham family and your sweet parents, life felt as ease.

at least, for you.

jude was rapidly tapping his feet on the wood bedroom floor. hands in his hair, anxiety filling up his thoughts. jobe was seriously getting concerned.

“mate, you have two days. everything is gonna be okay.” sitting next to him on the bed, jobe put his hand on jude’s shoulder to get his nerves to calm down.

“i’m overthinking it now. what if she says no? what if she only sees me as a brother? am i being delusional?” he could feel his heart racing, and it wasn’t even the day.

jude was planning to ask you out. he felt like no other person who wasn't blood related to him could understand him, deeper and personally better than you. noticing over the past few years, he noticed his rising feelings for you. getting overexcited by the mention of you two hanging out. his cheeks heat up as the thought of you popping into his head. his resistance of trying not to pull you into a deep hug.

jobe, trying to comfort him to the best of his ability, was getting concerned. “jude, you seriously need to calm down. y/n is one of my favorite people in the entire world. have you ever seen her talk to anyone else? i mean seriously, her whole life involves us.”

“you’re not helping,” jude stands up from the bed, heading his way outside for a bit of fresh air. “i need a breather.”

walking across the sand to gather his thoughts, he saw a familiar figure in the distance.

admiring how your hair flowed in the air, perfectly shaped and painted nails coming into contact with the golden sand. your lashes slowly moving up and down as you blinked. he couldn’t grasp the idea of losing you.

“hey jude, what’s going on?” almost standing up, he quickly sat down beside you. “is anyone asking for me?”

shaking his head, “nah, everything is fine. i just needed to take a walk.”

noticing his body language, and how his eyebrows moved when he talked, something was wrong. “you seem tense. is there anything you wanna talk about? what’s on your mind?” you scooted closer to him, touching shoulders.

jude cleared his throat, a lump forming. “there’s nothing wrong. i just wanted to see the sunset. beautiful waves isn’t it?”

“definitely. i wish i could spend all day here.” resting your head on his shoulder, he began to control his breathing and heart rate. struggling to make a next move, he moved his arm to push you closer by your shoulder.

little did you know, your mother and denise were standing from the balcony, watching you two embrace each other’s comfort.

jobe holding his youngest nephew, who was pointing at the future couple, seeing what the future could bring.

----------the next morning--------------

"hey little one." jude picked up his niece and spun around.

"i found your stash of flowers. they look really pretty. are they for me?" catching a small glimpse of the gap of her teeth, jude couldn't help but laugh at the question.

"i would like to say yes, but they're for a really special girl. are you ready to go swim at the beach?"

a frown formed on her lips, "yeah, i guess so. i can't wait to build a giant sand castle that i can live there forever." she threw her arms up high in excitement.

"i don't know about forever, but i'm sure it's gonna be great."

a knock was heard on the door. the air felt colder as tension fell.

"hey jude, we're about to go." you gave him a warm smile, as he stood there in silence. he put the princess down as he went to go sat down on his bed.

he picked up his phone, texting jobe,

i'll be at the beach later, got to get my things together.

he took a deep breath. and for the next 30 minutes, he was trying to form the perfect plan. going out to the balcony to look for a special spot to set up a dinner. noticing splashes that seem far more intense.

getting a better view, he noticed you and jobe. jobe was hugging you from behind and throwing you into the waves. shared laughter echoing throughout the beach. he couldn't lie, the inside of the palm of his hands were sweating and getting white from the grip of the wood. he didn't wanna admit he was getting jealous of his own brother, but the timing was nowhere near perfect for things like this to happen. he has seen moments like this between you two, but it felt different. his head began pounding. he grabbed his towel and ran out to hopefully score a remarkable moment with you

smiles appeared on everyone's faces as he walked through the burning hot sand.

"jude, you're here!" you yelled as sounds of waves crashing and seagulls talking. he waved at you while he gave his mom his belongings for safe keeping.

joining you and jobe in the water, he felt off. in his imagination, jude felt like a mood-killer. the laughter died down, the sun no longer reflected off your skin. he felt like he caused something wrong.

clearing the air, jobe did little small splashes throughout the trio. jude stared at the smile that was on your face after jobe's actions. he felt anger race through his blood. impulsive thinking, he pushed the water right into jobe's face. jobe dodging the salt water in his eyes, he was confused on jude's sudden gesture. you ignored what just happened, because siblings can be siblings.

actions speaking more than words, jude became more aggressive. walking more towards to shore for safety, jude wasn't just playing around. he gave a jude a small but rough push to jobe, making him slip and fall into the water.

"jude, what the fuck." his eyebrows narrowed watching you trying to help jobe to his balance. you weren't sure what was going on, but awkwardness was following all three of you.

jobe cleared his throat, "do you know what we're having for dinner?"

"i think our dads are grilling tonight." jobe nodded as you played with the salt water. without any explanation, jude walked back to get the towel from his mom, and walked back to the house. jobe and you made eye contact in confusion, but just brushed it off.

walking to the shore, the three little children were playing with the sand. classic sand castle with wet sand circling it. picking up the baby boy, giving him a small kiss on his forehead, you could really see jude’s face written all over him.

“y/n, you should sit. the sand is cool under the umbrella.” jobe patted a spot next to him under the shade. sitting the baby down on your lap and hugging his tiny body, he pointed at the sand in jobe’s bucket.

“are you going to help build our castle?” the little princess with her pink hat was desperately trying to scoop a decent amount of sand in her flimsy shovel. jobe nodded his head, but we all know he loses the sand castle contest every year.

“y/n, guess what.” the girl said with a bright smile.

“what?” you smiled back, but more in confusion.

“jude has flowers in his room. i asked if they were for me, he said no. he said it was for someone special though.”

your lips made a small gap. you were shocked at the fact. jobe held in his breath. he was looking back and forth in panic.

“did you know jude was talking to someone, jobe?” he looked at you with slightly wider eyes.

frantically shaking his head, “no, of course not.” he looked at his mom for some help.

“did you know?” you asked denise.

she shrugged it off with a “no darling.” as she was playing it off. you were playing with the baby’s soft curls as your mind wandered off.

—————————

“hey jude, how are you?” walking into his room and sitting down on the desk chair as he sat on the bed, scrolling through social media.

with an unexpected surprise, jude sat up. “i’m doing fine, how are you? you look like you got a nice tan.”

a slight giggle coming out, “yeah, it’s pretty nice. i just wanted to ask you about something.”

“about?”

“our lovely niece told me you bought flowers for someone,” jude instantly looked at you in your eyes. has his secret been busted? “i was just wondering who they were for. usually when you start talking to someone, jobe and i know.”

“oh, it’s nothing really. i bought them just because.”

“just because? you can’t be serious. have you met someone at the beach?” you got up from the chair and sat next to his legs on the edge of the bed.

“seriously y/n. they’re not for anyone. it wouldn’t be any of your business anyway.”

“excuse me?”

“why are you always in my business? i feel like you and jobe are spying on everything i do. and you try to get me to speak about everything. just leave me alone.”

“what the hell are you on about? we’ve never invaded your privacy. if you felt this way, you could’ve said something a long time ago.”

standing up in anger, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. everyone told everyone updates on their life, this wasn’t a secret tradition. surprisingly, jude would be the one sharing most of his life updates.

“you know what, you always take jobe’s side too. i feel left out every time. when i come around, you and him stop laughing and it gets all silent. i feel like i’m the bad guy.”

“jude, you’ve been acting fucking mental lately. i don’t know why you’re being like this, but you need to fix it. i asked a simple question, not a whole lecture from you.”

tears formed in your eyes as you went to leave the room.

“yeah, go run to jobe like you always do.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door with a loud bam following it.

jobe was waiting outside the door, hearing everything. breaking down in his arms, you thought this vacation would be different.

----------the next morning--------------

the smell of syrup, eggs, and other breakfast goodies was lurking around the beach house.

not a word from jude after the argument. it wasn’t any surprise that everyone in the place heard what was happening. mark, jude and jobe’s dad, made sure to cook butterfly pancakes to try and cheer you up. something he loved doing for you since you were a child.

sitting down with a plate of eggs and toast, he placed the pancake in front of you with a little whipped cream in the middle. giving you a gentle pat on the back, you thanked him quietly. jobe sat down next to you, not wasting a chance to dig in.

all of a sudden, the hairs on your arms rose due to the coldness. awkwardness cooling down the food as jude walked into the room. jobe cleared his throat as he glanced at you before looking down. you continued to try and eat, even though he made you lose your appetite.

“morning.” jude said to his mom as he gave her a little peck on her forehead.

quick change of events as jude sat on the other side of you. it was normal of course, jude, you, and jobe. it was just unexpected that he pretended nothing happened.

everyone ate in awkward silence. except jude, humming and dancing as he ate. his mom looked at him in concern.

“what?” he questioned her, as she quickly shook her head no. “being awfully quiet this morning, what did i miss?” everyone looked at him in confusion.

“nothing, just eat.”

he threw his arms up, “hey, i’m not making this awkward. you guys are.” he got up and started washing his plate and fork.

he was right, we were the ones being awkward. it didn’t change the fact that you didn’t get an apology though. finishing up your breakfast, you forced yourself to approach him with your dirty dishes. putting it into the sink, you stood behind him, waiting for him to be done.

he slightly whispered to you, “it’s fine, i got it.” you nodded at him while you went to the balcony for a summer breeze. soon, your mother and denise joined you.

after a few hours of talking, you got a text from jude. reading,

hey, can we talk later? meet me at the beach in 2 hours.

you tried not to question it. yet, the thought lingered. jude always apologizes straight away after an argument. what made it different now? giving the message a thumbs up, you continued talking with the ladies.

“hey y/n, did jude text you?” denise asked you.

“yeah, he did. he told me to meet him in 2 hours at the beach, but that was about an hour ago.”

“oh honey, you should probably change then.” your mom chimed in.

“what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”

“wearing pajama pants in hot sand is not very fabulous.” the two moms laughed as they rushed to put something together in your room.

after playing dress up through your suitcase, it was finally time to go. the sun was starting to set, the orange hitting the water perfectly. walking down the creaking wooden stairs, you weren’t sure to expect.

looking to your right, you hands flew on your mouth. a table surrounded with roses, forming a heart shape, was lit with a candle. standing there at the table was jude, with a bouquet of flowers. he looked very nervous.

walking up to him, you really admired the detail. you both started laughing at the sudden seriousness in the friendship.

“are you kidding me? this is surreal.” you hugged him and kissed him on his cheek.

“do you forgive me? is this too much? i didn’t know if the flowers were too much. i also didn’t know if you wanted sand in between your toes as you ate. i mean, i could literally get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. please, forgive me.” cutting him off, you placed a finger on his lips.

“of course i do. i could never stay mad at my best friend.”

“uh. ouch. i was actually going to ask you something. y/n, would you be my girlfriend.”

your mouth formed an ‘o’ shaped. he started tapping his feet in stress.

“i don’t see why i shouldn’t be.” dropping the flowers quickly on the seat, he hugged you.

in history of hugs throughout your friendship, this one was the best one. it marked a new beginning.

a new beginning of love.

-

to one of my lovely supporters - @judesthighveins

[clrasecretdiary]

Oh no, i love him. Pt. 2 | Spencer Reid x Bestfriend!Fem!Reader

more fluff !!

find part.1 here!

content: Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (yes, I am obsessed w pet names), Mutual pining, Reader is an overthinker (just like me fr).

warnings: none

--

The day before, you and the team had finally arrested the unsub that was threatening your best friend. You hoped to get a good night of sleep after one week of horrible nightmares, well that's not what happened. 

Instead, as soon as you lied down, your head now started to remind you of everything that went down the previous day. You and Spencer, what almost happened, the awkwardness during the whole day, how you two basically didn't speak the rest of the day, the way the team were staring at you both… You were scared that your friendship was ruined, scared that everything was a misunderstanding and now Spencer thought you were a creep. 

"Fuck this" You say, accepting that there's no way you would sleep, getting up and heading to your living room to at least watch something to pass time until you had to go to work. 

You turn on the TV, and notice that the channel is playing an episode of doctor who. 

"Very funny universe" You say, it's like Spencer is everywhere around you. The cardigan you stole from him on the coat rack, his favorite book that he annotated for you on the coffee table… You can't escape him, and there's no way you're losing him. 

You watch a couple episodes, a few moments later you look at the time. It's 5:30, you start to get ready, have your breakfast and head out to the office. Besides your attempts, you still arrive early, being the only one already in the office besides… him. 

"Couldn't sleep either? " You say to Spencer taking him out of the focus on his paperwork and setting your things down to your table that was close to his. 

"Yeah, there's a lot on my mind to be honest" He says, looking up at you

"Mine to…" You say, grabbing a chair to sit down next to him. "Spence, we really need to talk. I need to tell you something" 

He does not answer, just maintains eye contact, waiting for you to continue. You take a deep breath, gathering courage It's now or never, you'll never know if you don't ask. 

"Ok, yeah… I love our friendship, I really do, it's like top 5 best things that ever happened to me. I don't know what a would do without you, and if you don't... agree with what I say I really need us to continue the same, I cannot do this job, hell I can't exist without you" 

You take a deep breath, gathering courage It's now or never, you'll never know if you don't ask. "But I don't know if I'm delusional, but there's no way this - You point between you two - is just friendship love. And this felling has been driving me crazy for months now, and I need to know and if you don't feel the same that fine. What do you actually feel for me, Spence?" 

Your heart feels like it's coming out of your chest, the seconds before he answers feel like hours and then he just… Starts laughing

"Fuck you Spencer" You say as you see the man laugh in front of you, you expected that he would not reciprocate your feelings but laugh at them was at another level. 

"No, honey, I'm sorry, it's just… Isn't it obvious?" 

"Not really, Spencer" You roll your eyes at him and cross your arms at your chest 

"Darling…" He says, putting his hands on both sides of your face, looking at your eyes, "I don't think there has been a single day on my life since I met you that I haven't been in love with you" 

As soon as he finishes that sentence, you feel your heart skip a beat and your stomach drop. You lean in and kiss him deeply, and he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. You both stand there, embracing each other. You have never felt so loved.

[motherloads]

Meet Me in the Pale Moonlight

Disclaimer: I absolutely love Jenny in the film! Too bad I like writing miscommunication. No bashing of Jenny!

The reader was supposed to be brooding and menacing? But she’s a wreck with a symbiote lol.

My spanish is also pretty meh in writing despite being Mexican myself. I speak better than I write! Pls keep that in mind ◡̈

Summary: The reader watches on the sidelines as Jenny and her longtime crush, Jaime Reyes become close to one another. Being Milagro's closest friend, she dreads when she has to come over and see the lovebirds.

But who says her little friend would allow this to happen? And who says what she sees is true?

->Pairings: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

-> Use of (Name).

-> Marvel/DC crossover (mentioned Eddie Brock, Peter Parker, and relations to other fic)

->Warning: So much miscommunication, murder talk, and spinal cord removal :(

Once again, please ignore grammar mistakes.

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I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean? When you gonna ditch that stupid, you got? It's me you should be seeing.

"Are you just going to continue to stare?" Milagro questions her close friend, who stares at her brother with a pair of love-sick eyes. "Dude, just go talk to him."

"Can't really do that," Her friend hums in response, "Look, Kord is walking over to him. Now he's going to have the brightest smile ever and then they'll hug Then she's going to pat him on the back and start helping him with your house remodel. Look! They're doing it!"

Exactly at that point, Jaime laughs as Jenny pushes him over, grabbing the paintbrush on her own and assisting him with the cream-colored outer walls. Jaime shakes his head in response, nudging her back.

"So what? I'm his sister, and what I can tell you is that they are NOT together. They're just really good friends!" Milagro explains, quieting down when Jaime looks over. "Come on, clear it up. I don't want to see my best friend so sad."

"I'm grieving," She pouts, lowering herself into the chair, "You don't see what I see. They are definitely together."

"Si no lo preguntas, nunca vas a saber," Another voice exclaims. Both girls turn their heads to her mother who shakes her head at them. "Don't be shy! I don't want my future daughter-in-law to lose her chance."

Feeling her face heat up, she looks away from the older woman's words. "I know he's your son, but I can't. I'm sorry."

Maybe if you weren't such a pussy, you would have gotten the guy. Does the K-dramas we watch together not mean anything?

The sudden voice caused her to jump straight into her seat. Narc had been quiet since she had arrive at the Reyes’ house hold. She hadn’t expected them to speak at all since he rarely did when she was at their residence. At first, it was off putting to never hear the familiar voice, but she slowly grew used to the silence.

Born out of wedlock from the original symbiote, Narc had been the symbiote who had begun their stay before she arrived in this Universe. They were the only connection she had to the life she once had. Or was it the other being stuck here as well? She wasn’t sure, she ignored all contact to the woman connected to her in more ways than one.

"K-Dramas are not real, idiot." She hissed under her breath.

"Did you say something, Mija?" Mrs. Reyes questions, resting her hand under the woman's chin. "You often talk to yourself, just like little Jaime."

"Mama!" Jaime calls out, "I'm not little anymore! Come on, don't tell her that!"

"You are little, cabrón. Don't you remember the incident? Naked con tus chiquito huevitos." His Uncle Rudy cackles, "Don't you remember that, ama?"

Their Nana shakes her head in response, smiling broadly at the memory. Milagro begins to laugh as well while Jenny sits beside the girls with a small nod in the direction of (Name). She returns the gesture, crossing her hands as she ignored how hard her heart hammered.

"I'm lost," (Name) murmurs, "So, so lost...But anyway, I have to head out. Thank you for having me!"

"Come by anytime, (Name)." Jaime grins, walking up to her and hugging the girl tightly, "Just remember to ignore anything they say about me, okay? Don't want them ruining anything."

"They're your family, I don't think they are capable of doing so," She pats his back, looking down at Milagro who fake kisses the air in front of her. Jenny seems to notice as she raises her eyebrows at the duo still hugging.

"You can let me go now, Jaime." (Name) murmurs into his ear, "Don't want her getting the wrong idea."

Jaime pulls away, smiling at the girl in front of him. His eyes flickered down for a second before he looked back at her, "Sorry?" She smiles sadly at him as she moves towards her vehicle. She refuses to look at the family behind her as she hears the conversation pick up again.

I think we should kill her.

"Absolutely not. There is a new hero here, Narc. We can't just murder a well-known figure and expect to get away with it." She groans, buckling her seat belt. She looks back at the family once more as she shifts her gear to drive.

We've done it once. And we can do it again.

"I don't think killing the Green Goblin counts for anything! He was already crazier than us, so the headlines were thanking us!" She exclaims.

His brain was nasty anyway.

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"Do you think Blue Beetle is cool?" Milagro asks, absentmindedly moving her straw around in boredom. "Personally, I think he's a huge nerd. What do you think?"

"Who says you can bother me on my shift?" (Name) frowns, cleaning the bar top in front of her, "And how did they let you in?"

"I have my ways," Milagro grins, "Answer my question. I need to know."

"I think he's...unique? From the news I have seen of him, it's obvious he is of Hispanic Descent. His suit is otherworldly, so I'm assuming it's some kind of alien tech he is using. Definitely not Superman, though." (Name) shrugs, moving the alcoholic beverages aside as she begins assisting the bartenders alongside her.

"Do you think he's cute under his mask?" Milagro leans closer, "Would you date him?"

I would eat him.

"I wouldn't eat him," (Name) responds instead. She pauses as the conversation around her began to quiet down. Some stared at her while others whispered to their compadres nearby.

"I...didn't ask that? I asked if you think he's cute and if you would date him. Dude, where the hell is your mind thinking right now?" Milagro whispers, eyeing the men nearby, "God, I’ve always hated this bar. A bunch of chismosos who are almost always cheating on their wives here. They're always eyeing you too. How do you handle that?"

"First, I can't tell if Blue Beetle is cute based on his voice. Second, I wouldn't date him since I am sooo hung up on your brother." Milagro snorts. "Lastly, this is the only bar that offers the minimum wage. I can handle drunk men well, I've always had."

The conversation began to pick up again as most began focusing on the news displayed in front of them. Blue Beetle was shown on live television, fighting off rogue soldiers from Victoria Kord's force. Despite the woman being long gone, the impact she made had not quite disappeared.

"I knew you were still into him! I say you ask him out! You ain't a homewrecker if he isn't in a relationship!"

"Didn't you say Kord and Jaime kissed? That your whole family cheered for the couple?"

"A fluke! It's a fluke I swear, but it is complicated! Just ask Jaime, please? It would be so cool for us to be family."

"If our lives are ever in danger at this very bar, then I'll ask." (Name) turns away from Milagro's eyes, "That means it will never ha-"

Her voice gets cut off when bullets begin hitting the bar's windows, causing the occupants to duck down to safety. Many of the drunken men tried to escape but most were quickly shot down by the bullets.

Milagro screams, ducking down into a crouch as the bullets continue. (Name) ignores the danger as she maneuvers her way through the destruction. She grabs Milagro, forcing the girl to look her in the eyes. "I need you to hide behind the bar, okay? The bullets won't get you. We will protect you.”

"W-who's we?" Milagro cries as (Name) pushes her behind the bar. There was silence for a moment as screams echoed in the bar. "(Name)? Where are you going?" She pushed Milagro down, moving her way from the bar corner as she looked at the bodies around her. Many men stayed below tables, looking at her in fear as she counted the people alive.

"Nobody get up. It’s not ove-" Her words get cut off when bullets pierce through her whole body. She is flung against the countertop as a bullet pierces too close to her heart. She hears her name being called out as Milagro tries to find her way to the woman.

She smiles at the tear-stained face in her vision. The fear in the other girl's eyes was evident as she continued to scream her name. At that moment, smoke bombs are thrown through the window. The screams had begun to mesh together, the fog covering the vision of the little who were still alive.

She feels the blood oozing out of her mouth, the familiar metallic filling up her mouth. She sputters, not being able to breathe.

It's your turn.

My turn.

Shoes stepping on glass were all everyone heard as the perpetrators stepped through the mess they caused. They held their gun up in return, moving through the fog stealthily. As they communicated with one another, they grew unnoticed by the thing they had angered.

"Find the Reyes girl. She is to be left alive." One spoke up, "Kill every survivor." The main soldier calls out. They await the confirmation of the others but they hear nothing. "I need an affirmative."

The soldier gets smacked in response, feeling themselves recoil from the weight against their body. When they look down at the unfamiliar weight, they begin to scream.

The weight crushing them was there comrade. Left unrecognizable with no head in sight. The blood wafts through their mask. They begin to gag as they try to pull the body off of them. They freeze up when a bloodied helmet rolls closer. Empty and dented, the helmet hits their shoe with a loud clank.

The fog begins to clear up, displaying the mess left behind. The soldier tensed when they noticed the bodies presented around the room. Many hung from the lights, their necks cracking from the added weight of their helmet. Others were hazardously thrown against tables. One had a table leg pierced through their helmet.

"Why must humans be so selfish? Is this fun for you, you pathetic piece of shit?" The soldier whimpers in response, turning their eyes away from the figure crouching in front of their face.

The creature, despite crouching, was still overlooking the only soldier left alive. The disarray and multi-color of the night sky reflected back to the onlookers who began to murmur about the new being. They tilt their head and leaned closer to the soldier, their bright, soulless eyes stared into the helmet. They licked the sharp smile forming from the fear they felt radiating off the soldier.

"Unlike the Blue Beetle, we do not care about the lives of our victims. What do you think happens next?"

"W-What the hell are you?"

"If you must know, my host has named us Narc. Will you beg for your life now?"

The Soldier rips their helmet off, looking at Narc with a look of fear, "Please. Please. I'm sorry. I'll never do this again, please!"

"He had once told us the same. You are just like the others. Pathetic. Unworthy. A perfect meal."

A scream is ripped through his victim's vocal cords as Narc bites down. Blood seeped through their mouth as they ripped out the spinal cord in one sharp turn. Narc stands, spitting their leftovers to the side.

"Hey, ugly!" A voice called out, "What the hell are you doing, man?"

Narc cranes their neck towards the entrance of the bar, watching as Blue Beetle floated at his place. They both stared at each other, unmoving.

"Blue Beetle!" A voice calls out, Milagro moving from her hiding spot to the blue-and-black-clad hero. "My friend is gone! She was just--where is she?" She turns her head towards Narc, who stares down at the shaking girl.

"Get away from it!" Blue Beetle yells, flying through the bar as he centers himself between Milagro and Narc. "Take it up with me and not the civilians!"

"He just--he ate all the soldiers--" Milagro gasps, stepping behind Blue Beetle, "I saw what he did--"

"You--What the hell are you?" Blue Beetle points his palms toward Narc, who continues to stare in silence.

"Does my figure scare you? I can hear your heartbeat." Narc cranes their head towards Milagro. Blue Beetle blocks her from their eyesight. “Worry not, we do not hurt the innocent.”

With those words, Narc feels their familiar bulking figure die down to their less impending figure. The duo are lost for words at the new figure presented in front of them.

"I'm so sorry I think I misgendered you--" Milagro's eyes stayed pinned to the pair of boobs Narc had.

"Where's (Name)?" Blue Beetle turns his head around, "Khaji-Da says she is still here! She was working, right?" His questions are to Milagro.

None of the three seemed to notice the survivors running out of the bar.

"She is here. With me." Narc hums, moving closer to Blue Beetle, "Is Khaji-Da your symbiote?"

"Symb--what? What do you mean (Name) is with you?"

"Jaime Reyes. You are a host are you not?"

"Stop avoiding my questions! Where is she?! How do you know my name--That is not my name! I do not know Jaime Reyes. Do you?"

"I have known of the scarab on your back since the beginning. Do not worry, (Name) remains clueless, for now."

"Why are you saying her name as if you know her?" Milagro questions.

Narc purrs, tilting their head closer to Blue Beetle who stepped back hesitantly. "We have known each other for a long time. We are bonded together until she dies. She is my key to survival in your world. She is me. I am her. We are one. We are Narc."

“Like Narcotics? Did she get you from a drug? She doesn’t seem like the type to do drugs.” Milagro questions, stepping closer to the duo, “And why are you so close? I can smell you from here!”

“We are host and symbiote. We am not from here, you see. Your alien won’t know of us.”

Milagro and Blue Beetle share a look, communicating with silent words. Blue Beetle lowers his hand, allowing Narc to step closer. The symbiote smiles, their purrs growing louder.

“I see why she likes you.”

With those words, Narc sinks into (Name)'s skin, leaving the woman defenseless from the eyes of her long-time crush and friend. She drops to the floor, her wounds patching over themselves with a familiar goo.

Blue Beetle drops to the floor, bringing (Name) close to his body. He rocks her back and forth as Milagro stumbles beside him. Her eyes were bloodshot and the tears that disappeared has formed all over again.

"Why didn't she tell us? Why didn't she tell me?" Blue Beetle, now Jaime who removed his helmet. He leans his forehead on the woman and murmurs into her hair. He kisses her temple as Milagro continues to cry.

"Why didn't she tell us her hero name is literally short for Narcotics?!"

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(Name) awakes to a horrible headache splintering her head. She groans as she shifts closer to the warmth of an unfamiliar body. She nuzzles in closer to the warmth, groaning at the light against her eyelids.

"Narc turn off the lights...I feel like I've just been shot." She moans, gripping her blanket tighter against her body, "I'm going out with Milagro later. I have to go buy cat food..."

"Milagro is taking care of Eddie, don't worry." A familiar voice whispers against her head, "Just go back to sleep. I'll block the sunlight."

"Thanks, Jaime..." Processing the name that came out, she jumps away from the warmth. She stares at Jaime, who stares back in equal shock and sleepiness. His hair was a mess, pointing in different directions. She presses her hand to her mouth, gasping behind it.

"Oh my god. We didn't have sex, did we? If so, that would be awkward because you are my best friend's brother and you literally have a girlfriend. I can't even get drunk so it's impossible for me to forget--oh my god am I in your house?"

"Hey, Hey," Jaime soothes her, smiling at the woman freaking out in his bed, "We didn't have sex and we were not drunk. You were...shot multiple times and some things came to light, but it's okay now, I promise."

"I'm still sleeping in your bed though! You could have left me, being shot doesn't stop me! We were holding each other?! What would Kord think if she saw this now?" She grips the unfamiliar sweater covering her body, feeling her legs shift through from under the sheets and hit against Jaime's.

"Jenny? What about Jenny? We aren't...We aren't dating if that's what you're worried about." Jaime grabbed her by the face, locking eyes with her who looked anywhere but him. "I can't just leave you when you were hurt."

"Milagro said you two kissed."

"We did once have feelings for each other. But it's long gone now, it was just a...heat of a moment kind of thing." Jaime brings her cheeks towards his chest, which she just noticed had nothing covering him from her eyes. Her hands stopped short on his stomach. She felt his stomach flutter in response.

"Besides, I like someone else. I like you."

She feels her heart stop at his confession.

Knew it.

"No shit." She exclaims, looking up at Jaime who smiles down at her doe-like look.

"I do." He whispers back. They both stared at one another until he leaned closer to her face. She felt his breath fan her face as she wrinkled her nose.

"You stink." She snorts, moving her hands to the back of his neck. He laughs at her words.

"Yours smells much worse. Now, come here--" She cuts him off, smashing her lips to his. He holds her waist, bringing her to sit on his lap. Her tongue finds his, leaning closer as her hand moves to stay on his chest. Biting his lip, she softly sucks it lightly. She opens her eyes to find his eyes half-lidded, enjoying the moment.

When she pulls away, her lips find his neck, kissing down to his collarbone. Pulling her hand back to his neck, she inhales his scent.

"Couldn't have waited until I was asleep. You are always like this. The same exact way with Peter Parker."

They both jump at the new voice, turning their heads towards Narc who floated their head around the room, reading the boxes that held different items. She turns her head to Jaime, eyes wide, waiting for him to begin screaming.

"Narc-uh. They explained more about your origins with each other. After finding them standing in a bloodbath, Milagro and I thought the worst had happened but someone--something told me to let Narc explain."

"They told you about our.... situationship?" She questions, gripping onto Jaime's bicep. "You're supposed to be running away--not making out with me!"

"And you! You aren't supposed to be out. You're grounded!" She growls, pulling Jaime's face into the crook of her neck, "You told him everything, huh? Why can't you ever keep secrets? She'll be angry our cover was blown!"

She ignored the look Narc gives, opting to continue her rant, “Asshole, is it because I’m not letting you meet Red Robin? You know it isn’t allowed!”

"The other youngling saw you get shot. Was I supposed to act as if I ate you instead?"

"Actually, yes! Nobody is supposed to know, you promised. We promised Eddie."

"You made a promise to your cat?" Jaime's muffled voice questions. Despite the situation, he bites her neck. "Who is Peter Parker?"

She glares at Narc, who innocently whistles. "No one Jaime, he is no one."

"Former boy toy." Narc responds instead, "Hell of an amateur kisser."

"You kissed him! Not me!" She turns to Jaime, pulling his head back to stare at him, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why they're acting this way. I'll go right now, seriously. I don't want you in our mess."

"Relax," Jaime comforts, grabbing her hand that stayed on his cheek. He smiles at her, "I can protect myself. Look--"

She felt him shift from under her, watching in shock as his body began to be covered by a familiar suit she had seen countlessly on television. Everything except his face was covered in armor. Whilst she analyzed the markings on his suit, Narc moved closer as well.

"Does your scarab only speak to you?" Narc asks, "It is unlike anything I have seen on my planet. Do you feed them as well?"

"They aren't really fed? They don't need sustenance. Khaji-Da only talks to me in my head so they're like a second voice...and planet?"

"This is going to be a long talk," She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, "At least you don't have to feed them human brains..."

"What?" Jaime recoils, looking at the two with wide eyes, "I'm sorry? Brains? Like Zombies? The Walking Dead? Like zombies from The Last of Us?!"

"I thought you told him everything!"

"I would never tell of my eating habits! Humans are judgemental!"

[notlhecxzsa]

I Think Your House Is Haunted - N.R

Summary: Time flies too fast, too fast for Y/n to even recognize and realize what was happening behind her back. What would happen? Especially after losing the only person she trusts. Would she feel free from the hands of her father? Or would she feel caged, now in the hands of Natasha?

Author's Note: Pheww, it has been soooo long! Life has been kicking my butt, but I'm doing great now! I hope life always treats all of you well! If no one has told you today, I'm proud of you for making it this far (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Warnings: Physical abuse (heavy), cussing, verbal abuse, Y/n looking like a lost child

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3rd Person's POV:

"But, Dad..." Lucille heard the helpless tone on Y/n's voice, struggling to not interfere on the scene that was unfolding in front of her. After the two heads of the mansion explained everything to their daughter, clearly and completely, the volcanoe of realization inside of the young woman errupted.

Y/n does not want to marry someone she doesn't know, she doesn't even know who Natasha is personally. It was all too much for her little mind to take in, but after a moment of silence, it dawned to her what kind of future she will be having. She will be facing.

She can't marry someone she doesn't love. She can't move in to a whole new country, her life hasn't ever started yet, and now, she's being forced - as always, into something she knows she's not capable of becoming. Fear blossom in her chest as her mind shut down, only thinking about how much she despised what her parents will put her through.

She was not given the chance to go out and explore what is outside the big walls of their abode, now she's being transferred into a whole new country she barely knows, only daydreaming of what it looked like in person.

Her fist clenched onto her dress, fearing what's to come, as she watched her father shook his head in clear disappointment. "No buts, sweetheart..." Leaning forward the dining table towards his daughter, Phoveus caressed her cheek in one hand. "It's for the better." With a small sinister smile, he leaned back, turning his attention to the food in front of him. "Besides, you will - finally, gonna be useful to us. Not some lazy stupid girl pancing around her Mommy and Daddy's mansion, huh? Gonna be a good housewife for you future wife while Mom and Dad makes a whole lot of money, it's for you too, if you could understand my point of view." Phoveus finished. Y/n only stared down on her plater, her fist already turning white as tears clouded her eyes. Mixed emotions settled on her mind, it felt like there was someone opening the bottle of a shakened can of soda, the aerated liquid finally bursting out of the tight space.

"I don't want this!" Her one hand that was holding a fork came down on the plate, the clattering sound as she forcefully let go of the fork made some of the people inside the dining area flinch, including her parents. "I don't wanna go there, I- I don't wanna go anywhere! I wanna- I wanna stay here! I don't want to marry any-anyone!" Her small high pitched voice rang through the ears of many, while Lucille's eyes widen, ready to jump incase anything happens.

A moment of silence enveloped them before a booming sound of human skins creating an impact to each other filled the atmosphere. The slap that was laid upon the softness of Y/n's cheeks made her whole body turned to the side, without even having the chance to register it, she was forcefully being held on her upper arms, gripped tightly that she couldn't even move it around. She stood on her tippy toes, her father standing tall in front of her as she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

"How dare you talk to me that way?! Are you out of your mind?!" Her fathers loud voice rang through her disoriented hearing, followed by the muffled speech of her mother.

"Phoveus! Hey!" It came out like a hesitant yell, before Y/n could even look at her mother, a body jumped in and collided with hers before her father's another hand could even came contact with her other cheek.

"What the fuck?!" Phoveus looked straight into Lucille's eyes that held so much courage in them, held so much protectiveness. He pushed her away, but she did not budge, only holding onto his arm that was holding the young woman tightly.

Annoyance and anger filled him, she took all his power to push both of the woman that was in front of her. "Fucking idiots! Get her out of here-" His voice was cut off by his wife's voice. "Phoveus, no! Stop this! You can't kick her out-" Turning the tables, it was now Phoveus' turn to cut her off.

"Oh, I can, Carmilla! Maybe you want to come with her, huh? You and your daughter, you're both fucking dumb, don't make yourself relevant in this." Now, his attention turned towards him, Y/n was almost laying down on the floor, her eyes unfocused as Lucille held her while whispering things in her ear. "This dumb mutt needs to learn her lessons. Think she forget what she's not supposed to do, hmm?" Once again, taking a hold of her daughter, ignoring how much Lucille wanted to take her away from his hands, only ordering two of her guards to lead her out of the mansion.

"L-lucille! N-n-no!" Y/n sobbed out weakly, looking back as she was being dragged down the hallway, already knowing what's to come, but having an idea that this time, it will be different. She heard Lucille screaming back, calling out her name helplessly.

"We can't have you acting like that in your new home, I think it's just the right time you'll be taught for one last time. We'll make this quick, after all, you'll be getting out of here in just a few hours." Phoveus muttered angrily to her before pushing her inside a dark room.

"P-please... No..." Crawling to the far corner of the dark room, she pushed herself against it, trying to get as far as possible from her father.

"L-lucy..."

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Natasha's POV:

"God, this is so goooood!" I heard Clint exclaimed, a small smirk stretched onto my face a I leaned my head back, closiing my eyes as I let out a satisfied sigh, feeling a couple of hands wandering around my body, caressing every bits of my skin.

"Wanna get out of here?" A sultry voice whispered in my ear, making me look straight ahead the pairs of unknown eye colors, too drunk to even know what hues it is.

Looking ahead, I saw Maria chatting with Carol - a close friend of ours, probably flirting too, looking to the side, there was Steve minding his own business while scanning the area, and up ahead the dancing area was Clint and Bucky, beers in their hands while dancing around.

"Hmmm?" Looking back to the girl that was almost sitting in my lap, I smirked, gripping her hips as I stood up, almost carrying her along.

"Wanna get ruined that bad, huh?" I nipped on the upper tip of her ear, gripping her hips tightly.

"Maybe? Wanna do the honors?" She let out a small giggle, her arms lacing around my neck as she left small hot kissed on the skin of it.

Before I knew it, we were up againt the wall of a secluded hallway, one of the upper floors of the exclusive club of my friend, where expensive roome are lining up, looking like a hotel. We exchange a hot kisses, I could feel my pants getting tight as I lead her backwards to the room that was set on my name.

"Natalia?"

Frowning as I drunkenly look down at the woman underneath me, my vision slightly swaying but still sober enough to know what is happening. I didn't even notice that we're already in bed, but as I looked down to face her, I saw those pair of eyes that held me captive, keeping me awake in the middle of the night.

"Ms. Romanoff?" I snapped out of my trance when I heard a whole different voice calling me out. It did not sound like a melody, it did not sound like it was from an angel up above.

I could feel the adrenaline rush wearing off, the lust deforming from my insides into something unknown. I felt... I don't know. There was an edge in the put of my stomach that almosy felt like a guilt... a longing guilt for someone that I don't know. Hotness bloom inside my chest, burning with an uncomfortable feeling as I sat back up, walking towards the door and opening it.

"Leave." I muttered, with no emotion showing in my facade.

"What?- W-why?" I heard whoever she is called out in confusion, I shook my head and rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"Leave. Before I make you." She stood up scrambling around the bed, taking her slutty top that almost made her boobs pop out. She stomped towards the door angrily.

"Make sure to still pay me-" She started, and I gunted in anger, taking a hold of her forearm and pushing her firmly outside the room.

"Yeah, yeah, just get out." I said, annoyance visible in my voice.

I let out an exasperated sigh, plopping onto the bed before staring at the ceiling. I could feel the alcohol running through my veins, I should be getting laid right now, having my fun and getting my satisfaction. Instead, I was left wondering - questioning what is happening to me.

Am I getting crazy? Should I tell Maria or Clint to get me a therapist?

Maybe, I am?

Maybe, I...

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

3rd Person's POV:

Y/n woke up, the sound of airplane rumbling mid-air made her heart jump. She was wearing a long sleeve turtleneck and a black pants, trying to cover up as much bruises as she can. Flying over to a whole another country was already fear settling, but without Lucille by her side, it was a whole another conversation.

After that session with her father, she was left battered and bruised, with 2 of their other maids to pick her up on the cold floor and help her get ready. She did not see her Lucy, she wanted Lucy, not them! But, to no avail, she was met with no presence of the woman who she grown to love and fin comfort on. She had asked the guards and a couple of other maids, they did not say anything, only saying that they don't know.

She looked on the window of the plane, one of her father's private plane. It has been multiple hours, she slept through it all, feeling so tired to even witness the exchange of location outside those windows. Her body aches, but she was already used to feeling that way. Her mind still clouded with fear of the unknown, but she only prayed for one thing, for Lucy to be okay wherever she is, and hope to see her again.

She will see her again.

Sadness and longing settled in her heart, the thought of losing Lucy, the only person she could hold on to, the only person she has, made her heart break into million pieces. Tears brimmed up in her eyes, wanting to get out of the predicament she was forced into. But, how? When even Lucy is not there to help her.

As for her parents, she doesn't know what to feel. Does she miss them or not? She doesn't know. She doesn't feel the longing feeling in her heart at the thought of them. She felt... empty. And the thought of being away from them brought her... peace that she couldn't explain what. She felt her body relaxing at the thought of being away from them and she doesn't know why. Maybe soon she'll know. Maybe, Lucy could explain it to her.

She jumped at the sound of the voice going through the intercoms, saying that they are descending and put their seatbelts on. She frowned, thinking how long she might've been sleeping for them to be already in the destination they'll be going. Without anymore thoughts, she scrambled on her seat, still careful with her movements to not hurt herself.

Gulping, her eyes shut down, thinking of many good things. Lucy. Her dog, Tammy. Her paintings. Her stuffed toys. Every little good thing that she knows and owned was thought of, Lucy's comforting voice was remembered and she repeated them figuratively.

"... It's been great flying with you." The voices were muffled by her hands that was squished in her ears. Opening up her eyes that the sun from aboved cascaded on, she looked up and see a couple of flight attendants walking towards her, ready to assists with warm smiles on their face.

"Are you alright, dear?" A woman said, leaning down to look at her face. Blush spread across her face, golly! she must've looked so stupid at the moment. A helpless child.

Immediately composing herself, she nodded, replying with only a smile as she did not know how to respond. She looked around, not knowing what to do until one of the flight attendants, who is a man, started to talk.

"We will assist you, Ms. Y/L/N. Just follow us if you're all settled. Someone is waiting out there for you who will be taking care of you until you reach other house of Ms. Romanoff, as what your parents had told us. Will there be anything you need for us to assist you with?" The man rambled, and she almost felt dizzy with how neat and fast he talked.

She shook her head, "N-none, thank you." She stammered, standing up slowly and stretching the sleeves of her top clothes, covering herself up more if it's even possible.

"Well then, let us lead the way. Please, follow us. Your things will be taken care of the other staff, so you won't have to worry about that." The woman said, and she looked up at her with a soft smile, giving her a nod. They were so warm and kind. Are the people of New York all like that? She's never been to New York, only wandering around the comfort and vicinity of Hawaii, if she was ever given the chance to.

Golly, what will she be experiencing here, in this foreign love, full of fear and no one to call home.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

"You must be Y/n Y/l/n?" A tall woman with raven hair and hazel eyes approached the young woman as she stood like an ant in front of a very, very tall building. 3 of her bodyguards lined up behind me, the sun strikingly cascaded down on them since it's almost lunch time.

Maria looked at the young woman, noticing how she shifted from one foot to another, seeing how Maria is looking at her up and down. She looks pretty young, she drips with innocence, but Maria silently cringed at how covered up she was. Her clothes of choosing doesn't match well with the weather of June her in New York. Well, maybe she doesn't know?

"I'm Maria, you can follow me." After saying that, she turned on her heels and walked inside the building. The young woman who nodded at her question followed on her trail along with the big bulky bodyguards that Natasha ordered to be with the girl. Days before her arrival.

Y/n looked around the inside of the building in awe, not her first time seeing such a luxurious establishment, but nevertheless, it left her in such a state of mind. It's all so... sophisticated. The design, it was slightly too dark for Y/n's liking, but who is she to say anything?

"Natasha's not here. But she'll come around soon..." She looked at the woman as they step inside the huge elevators, it wasn't that tight for 5 people, but Y/n tried her best to push herself against the wall, looking up at Maria in curiosity. She looks very pretty. Scary and intimidating, but pretty. "You can get settled in once I showed you around. Don't worry, I'll be just hanging around for a couple of hours, so if you will need anything, don't hesitate to come to me." Maria checked on the young girl, noticing her quietness, only to find her looking at her already.

She fought off a smirk that wanted to be let out, instead she gave her a warm small smile, not her usual facade to strangers, but it came off natural. "Don't worry, I'm a friend of Natasha. I'm just here to help and assist." Maria assured, and she could swear that she saw how Y/n's shoulder deflated in relaxation, a small cute smile showing off on her face, replying with a nod.

Maria waited for a verbal reply, sensing that there wasn't any, she continued, "Everything you will need is there. Foods, necessities, and whatever other things that you will need, but if you have other needs that are not present, you can just tell me, okay?" Once again, she nodded, blinking slowly as she tried to take in everything that the older woman had said.

She looked at the elevator's screen that shows off which floor they are in. Her heart thumped a little, looking at the number 41, and they're still not there. Golly, is it that tall? Not wanting to stress herself out, she thought if what she might specifically need.

Hmmm, can I request for her to get Tammy here with me?

"Are you hungry? I can cook something for you... or you could, whatever works for you. I've shown you the kitchen and everything, but if you need anything, just call me up, I'll be at the balcony, just gonna make some calls." Maria rambled as Y/n stood in the middle of her room that Maria had shown her. Everything is... perfect. It's so neat and clean, the colors of pastel pink and white are all mixing together perfectly. Y/n thinks it's perfect, Maria thinks it's ridiculous. Since when did Natasha had taken a liking in this type of color, but as Maria analyzed the young woman in front of her, it is all making sense.

"Thank you, Ms. Maria. I can handle the cooking, you've already done enough." Smiling up shyly, Y/n shifted from one foot to another, her hands entangling together, finding comfort in it.

"Oh, no no, it's fine. It's my job. But, don't feel shy and bothered when asking for help, okay? Anyways, Natasha might be on her way, I'll check on her and I'll update you. You can get settled in." Maria said, backing away, ready to turn on her heels.

Y/n nodded, "Thank you, Ms. Maria." With a smile, she said.

"Just call me Maria, it's all fine. I'll be there." Replying with a smile, Y/n nodded, waving her hand as Maria got out of her sight.

Looking around, her smile turning into a thin line. So far, everything is good, and everyone had been so kind. But, somehow, the thought of meeting Natasha brought something weird circling around the insides of her stomach. Her thoughts got cut off when she saw a door on the side for the wall, her eyes widening... a balcony!

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~^~°^~

As Natasha entered the penthouse she owns that could fit 20 or more family, she did not felt any difference, but as soon as her nose got a whiff of something that is being cooked, she frowned. She knows Maria is here, but that woman knows damn well than to touch her kitchen.

Her head is banging with a headache, she can't even remember what was the reason that Maria had called her earlier to come here. But, even if the weather is bad or not, she may have girls on her bed or having the most gut wrenching hangover, she may be injured or lazy, she will always prioritize her work, over anything and everything.

She walked further inside, her senses calm and in serenity, feeling the comfiness of her home. Before going there, she was already drinking a 3 or more shots of one of her expensive vodka, she doesn't know, she won't ever bother to know.

Her firm steps came into a halt when she heard something - someone, humming. It was a very soft tone, and Maria surely won't have that kind of humming sound. Did Maria hired a helper?

She walked with slow and careful steps as she approached where the sound was coming from. Her frown deepens, questions started to run miles inside her mind.

"Who are you?" She blurted out in question, her voice full of authority.

She saw the woman jumped in surprised, as Natasha scanned the woman, she caught a glimpse of the chicken nuggets wrapper beside the stove. What the hell? Is this one of Maria's girl?

As an audible gasp came out of the young woman, she turned immediately. Natasha's eyes immediately caught a glimpse of those familiar orbs that haunted her in the middle of the night.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Author's Note: I apologize for the wrong grammars and all, I really did my best to finish thisss! Hope you'll like it, mweheheeh, mwaaa! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: IX

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

As Simon walked through the door of his house, a heavy wave of agonizing guilt crashed over him, consuming him entirely. His body moved on autopilot while his mind was in turmoil, torn between regret and longing.

All he wanted in that moment was to be with you, to hold you close and make things right. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting you, of seeing the pain he had caused reflected in your eyes.

Sitting on his couch, Riley curled up beside him, Simon ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, a flood of remorse flooding his thoughts. Never had he imagined that he would be capable of hurting you to the point of making your eyes water. He wanted to punch himself for being so foolish, for letting fear cloud his judgment.

But perhaps there was still hope. Maybe if he explained himself, you would understand. You were always so kind and forgiving, and he hoped you would extend that kindness to him too.

He knew he needed to be honest with you, to tell you how he truly felt. His heart felt lighter whenever he was around you, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. He needed to explain that he had frozen and pulled away because he was terrified of letting himself be vulnerable again. But he was willing to risk it all if it meant he could spend a lifetime by your side.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was his unwavering desire to be with you, to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.

Simon sat on his couch, staring at the picture of you and Riley on his phone, feeling a mix of longing and uncertainty. He wanted to reach out to you, to explain himself and make things right, but he couldn't shake the doubt gnawing at him. Would you even want to hear from him right now? Would it be fair to intrude on your space when he had hurt you so deeply?

He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen as he debated whether to send a text or not. He knew that explaining himself over text wouldn't do justice to the depth of his feelings, but he also wanted to let you know that he cared about what had happened between you two.

Finally, he typed out a message, his heart pounding in his chest as he hit send.

Simon: Can we talk about what happened?

He held his breath, checking his phone every few seconds, his nerves getting the better of him as he waited for your reply. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind racing with thoughts of what your response might be.

Meanwhile, on your side of things, you saw the text the instant it arrived, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. Tossing your phone to the other side of your bed, you buried your face in your hands, the pain of rejection still fresh in your mind.

You were lying on your bed with missy sitting next to you, “Missy, I don't know what to do. I'm so embarrassed…”

She purrs softly, rubbing against your hand.

“I thought Simon and I had a moment, you know? But then when I tried to kiss him, he pulled away… He doesn't feel the same way about me, Missy. And now I feel like I could never show my face around him again. I feel like such a fool.”

She nudges your hand affectionately, licking it before lying beside you.

“I know, I know… Maybe I misread the situation. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to kiss him. But it felt right in that moment, you know? And now… now I just feel so rejected and embarrassed. I don't know how I'll face him again… Ive completely ruined our friendship.” Missy continues to purr, offering silent comfort.

“Thanks, Missy. I guess I'll just have to figure out how to move forward from this… But for now, I'm glad I have you here with me. You always know how to make me feel better.”

Simon couldn't shake the feeling of unease that kept him awake throughout the night. He wanted to reach out to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew you probably didn't want to see him, let alone talk to him, especially after he hadn't received a reply to his text.

The next morning, Simon walked to the café, rehearsing in his mind what he wanted to say to you. But when he entered, his brows furrowed in confusion as he saw a man behind the counter.

"Is y/n here?" Simon asked, his brow furrowing in disappointment when the man shook his head. "Took the week off, I'm filling in for her," the man replied.

Sighing heavily, Simon walked out of the cafe, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. Eventually, he decided to go to the store and pick up a few things for you.

As Simon walked into the store, he pulled up a recipe for banana nut muffins on his phone, remembering that they were your favorite. With determination, he grabbed a cart and began weaving through the aisles, picking up each ingredient listed on the recipe.

"Baking powder, baking soda, eggs, butter," he muttered to himself as he scanned the list, double-checking his cart to ensure he had everything he needed. But then, his eyes widened as he reached the next step in the instructions.

"What in the bloody fuck is a stand mixer?" He quickly scrolled through the recipe, realizing that he lacked many of the essential tools for baking.

Determined not to let this setback deter him, Simon made his way to the kitchenware aisle and began grabbing a stand mixer, measuring cups, bowls, and a muffin tray – everything necessary to complete the recipe. As he scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a floral tray that reminded him of you.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he imagined presenting the freshly baked muffins to you on the elegant tray.

As Simon made his way through the store, he couldn't resist stopping by the pet aisle. Remembering Missy, he turned into the cat section and picked out a few toys, treats, and some catnip, wanting to spoil her a little.

Continuing through the aisles, Simon suddenly remembered you mentioning something about "The Hungry Games." He furrowed his brows, trying to recall exactly what you had said.

Approaching a store clerk, Simon asked, "Do you have 'The Hungry Games' on DVD?"

The man looked puzzled for a moment before correcting him, "You mean 'The Hunger Games,' bro?"

"Yeah." Simon replied, following the clerk to the DVD section. He was handed a collector's set that included all the movies, but he noticed that 'The Ballad of Snakes and Birds' was missing.

"The Ballad of Snakes and Birds isn't in here,"

The clerk laughed. "You buying this for your girlfriend?"

Simon scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, something like that."

The clerk explained that 'The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes' had recently been released in theaters, so it wasn't available on DVD yet. However, he offered to provide Simon with a bootleg website where he could watch it online.

"Okay," Simon agreed, taking the sticky note with the website address. He added the DVD collection to his cart before continuing his shopping for you, determined to make it a special gesture.

"Muffins, movies, Missy… hmm…" he muttered to himself as he strolled down an aisle filled with wooden baskets. Inspiration struck him as he realized that making you a basket filled with things you liked would be perfect. It would be easier for him to carry and he could would be able to add more thoughtful items.

He got a throw blanket adorned with cats, reminiscent of Missy, along with a selection of candles, strawberry seeds, a flower pot with a design he thought you would adore, a flower Lego set you had mentioned once, and a Ross gift card.

Stopping at the floral shop on his way home, Simon picked out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers and a plant to put in the flower pot.

Back at home, Simon spent the entire afternoon making the muffins. He struggled with assembling the stand mixer, nearly breaking it in the process, and cursed himself when he accidentally dropped an eggshell into the batter. Despite his mishaps, he persevered, spending five painstaking minutes trying to retrieve the stubborn piece of shell.

When the muffins finally emerged from the oven, they looked picture-perfect, as if straight out of a baking catalog.

Simon surveyed the kitchen, which was now a chaotic mess from his baking endeavors, but he couldn't help but smile at the sight of the muffins.

Simon worked diligently, loading all the dishes into the dishwasher before turning his attention to putting together your basket. Carefully, he rolled the throw blanket and positioned it on the side, arranging the candles and movie set in the front. He placed the flower Legos on the other side, ensuring everything was balanced, before nestling your bouquet of flowers in the middle.

With precision, he placed the plant from the florist into the pot and positioned it neatly beside the flowers. The strawberry packet and gift card found their place near the pot, completing the ensemble. Stepping back, Simon admired his handiwork, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he imagined your reaction.

After washing and drying the floral tray, he carefully arranged the cooled-down muffins on it. With Riley on a leash and in the car, Simon carried your basket and the tray of muffins to the car.

As he pulled into your driveway, Simon took a deep breath, his nerves tingling. He glanced at Riley in the passenger seat and felt a sense of reassurance. "I just gotta be honest with her," he murmured, running his hand over Riley's head. Riley responded with a lick and Simon smiled.

You heard the doorbell ring, and your heart skipped a beat as you peered through the peephole, your pulse quickening at the sight of Simon standing outside with something large in his hands. With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, you unlocked the door and opened it slowly.

Simon stood before you with an apologetic smile, Riley wagging his tail by his feet. "I'm so sorry, love. Can we talk?" he asked softly, his gaze pleading. You felt a rush of emotions as you looked from him to the items in his hands, and a smile tugged at your lips. Stepping aside, you welcomed him in.

He set the basket and tray down on the coffee table in front of you, and you took a seat beside him on the couch as Riley explored the living room. It was time to have that conversation you had been dreading, but somehow, with Simon beside you and his heartfelt gesture before you, it felt a little less daunting.

Simon took a deep breath, his nerves practically humming with anticipation as he tapped his finger against his thigh. Never before had he felt so jittery, so utterly consumed by the weight of his emotions.

For a man who had faced countless missions and life-threatening situations, confessing his feelings to the woman he loved was the ultimate test of his courage.

You noticed his restless tapping and glanced down at his finger rhythmically drumming against his jeans. When his gaze met yours, you looked up at him, waiting expectantly for him to speak. As you both held your breath, awaiting the words that hung heavy in the air.

Simon takes a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours, and he begins to speak, his words heavy with sincerity. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry for pulling away like that. It wasn't because I didn't want to kiss you… It's just… I got scared."

Your body is turned toward him, your full attention on his words as he continues. "I've never really been good with words, but I want you to know that… I've always been afraid of letting myself be vulnerable, especially when it comes to people I care about… people I love…"

Your breath catches slightly in your throat, your mind reeling with the weight of his admission. Love? Did he truly feel that way about you?

"I care about you a lot. Maybe even more than I should admit. I was afraid that if you came to know the real me… the things I've done, you might… you might turn away."

Simon's eyes search yours for understanding. "I realize now that pushing you away was the worst thing I could've done. You're… you're perfect, and I felt like I wasn't good enough for someone like you."

"But that's not fair to you. You deserve honesty. And the truth is, I care about you more than I've cared about anyone. I can't bear the thought of losing you. I just needed to explain, to let you know how I feel. And… I'm sorry for hurting you."

He pauses, gathering his thoughts before adding softly, "And… and I want you to know… I wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss me." you softly smiled before glancing down at your hands, taking a deep breath. Your soft gaze met his warm brown eyes.

"Simon… thank you for being honest with me. I know it couldn't have been easy for you to open up like this."

Your thumb rolled over his knuckles, "Every time you walked into the cafe, my heart skipped a beat. It was like the world paused for a moment, and all I could focus on was you."

"And whenever you looked at me, or called me 'love,' it made me feel… special," you confessed, your voice softening with emotion. "Like I was the only one in the room that mattered to you."

"All those moments we spent together, even if it was just a simple conversation or a quick smile exchanged across the room, meant everything to me," you continued, your voice filled with sincerity. "It was like… the highlight of my day, every single time."

"I always found a reason to try and talk to you because… because being around you made me happy," you admitted, your heart laid bare. "And even if I couldn't find the right words to say, just being near you made everything feel right somehow."

"I understand that we all have parts of ourselves that we're afraid to reveal, but you don't have to face those fears alone," you assured him, your gaze unwavering. "I'm here for you, Simon, always."

"And as for stepping away… well, we all make mistakes," you offered, your tone gentle but firm. "What matters is that we learn from them and try to make things right. And trust me, I'm not as perfect as you think. But together, maybe we can be perfect for each other."

Leaning in closer, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, you glanced down at your hand over his and met Simon's gaze again.

"And as for the kiss… well, I wouldn't mind trying that again" you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of playfulness, yet brimming with longing.

As you leaned in closer, your heart pounding with anticipation, Simon's hand softly found its place on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand comforting and familiar.

Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all doubts and fears melted away. Slowly, hesitantly, Simon inched closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, silently seeking reassurance that you wanted this. With a soft smile, you closed the gap between you, both of you closing your eyes as your lips met in a soft kiss.

Simon's heart raced in his chest as he felt the soft press of your lips against his, a rush of warmth flooding through him as he moved his lips in sync with yours. In that moment, everything felt right, as if the pieces of a puzzle were finally falling into place. As you both pulled away, you both smiled and glanced at eachother before glancing away, smiles lingering on both of your faces.

Simon remembered the basket and brought it onto his lap, his expression softening as he said, “I got you a little something, a few things I thought you would like.” You were finally able to take everything in, and you gasped when you saw the Lego flower set.

“Stop! You remembered!” you exclaimed, feeling like a kid on Christmas as you looked through the basket, making appreciative little comments about everything. Simon just smiled, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of your joy.

“You got the collector's set! We need to watch this right now!” Simon laughed and grabbed the muffins off the table. “Works out, we got snacks for the movie night.”

You gasped, grabbing the cute floral tray. “Did you make these, Si? They smell so good! You really did all of this for me? This is so sweet, Si, thank you so much.”

“Of course, sweetheart, you're worth all the time and effort,” Simon replied, a new endearment slipping from his lips.

“Can you put the movie in the DVD player? I want to light this candle and roll out this blanket. I can make us some tea?” you asked, and Simon smiled and nodded. “I’ll get on it, and some tea would be bloody nice right now.”

You smiled and nodded, and as Simon got up to put the DVD in the player, you cut the tags off the blanket and put some tea to brew while you lit a candle, setting it on the coffee table.

You sat next to Simon, both of you under the throw blanket, and you took a bite of the muffin, you realized this was better than any muffin you had ever made.

Simon took a sip of his tea as he fed Missy the treats he bought her, the cat purring contentedly on his lap. Simon looked down at Missy and then at Riley, nestled between the two of you sleeping peacefully. His gaze then lingered on you as you took another bite of the muffin while your eyes were glued to the TV. He smiled, turning to the screen, his smile lingering.

In that moment, as love swelled in his heart, Simon was truly happy, and content with life as he sat next to you.

[juanarc-thethird]

Be My House Husband p3

At the Vale Summer Fair

Jaune is participating in a cooking competition. This year's theme is barbecue. So he brought along his famous pork ribs covered in a special siracha and barbecue sauce. Plus a few secret ingredients that are valid in the competition rules.

Jaune: *Shaking a little*

Coco: Nervous?

Jaune: Hm? Oh! Coco, I didn't expect to see you here.

Coco: And miss out on a chance to see you, hottie? Not even in dreams.

Normally Jaune would blush at this point and tell her to stop, but he doesn't say anything. Coco stares at him and she can see that he's distracted. His mind is elsewhere.

Coco: Jaune?

Jaune: Oh sorry! Yes?

Coco: Are you okay? *She asks concerned*

Jaune: Y-Yes, I'm totally fine.

Coco: Jaune....

She stares into Jaune's eyes and he sighs.

Jaune: This isn't my first time doing this, actually. I really put a lot of effort into my dish. But I don't think it's enough. I mean, look at the guy over there. He brought a whole pig, the guy over there brought three-meat sausages, and the guy over there…

At that moment Coco took his hand and he stops. He then looks at her and Coco starts talking.

Coco: Jaune, I've eaten your food and I can safely say that you are the best chef I know. There's no way you're going to lose this competition.

Jaune: But the others...

Coco: Forget about the others. In the end, what will decide the winner is not how complicated the dish was, but how tasty it is. So believe in yourself the same way I believe in you, okay?

Jaune stares at her for a few seconds, absorbing every word she said. That calmed him down a bit and with a smile he answers back.

Jaune: You're right, I have to trust in my abilities. Thanks Coco.

Coco: You're welcome, tiger. *She winks at him* Now where are the rest of your friends? I thought I'd run into your team or team RWBY by now.

Jaune: They couldn't come.

Coco: What? Why?

Jaune: They had plans, but that's okay.

Coco: If you say so. Oh! I think the judges are coming. Good luck!

She then gives him two thumbs up and walks away.

Jaune: *Looking at her walk away* Thank you.

The competition continued and after a couple of hours, the judges finally came to a decision. All the contestants are standing on the podium as they await the results. While spectators watch attentively from the stands.

The master of ceremonies together with the judges are in front of the podium. Two of them hold a trophy and a plaque while the other holds the envelope with the winner.

Master of ceremonies: Ladies and Gentlemen's. After a long discussion, the judges came to a decision.

Judge 1: *gives him the envelope*

Master of ceremonies: *He takes an envelope and starts to open it* This year's winner is… *He pulls out the paper and…* Jaune Arc!

Jaune: *Shock* What?

Coco: Heck Yeah!! That's my future husband! WOOHOO!!!

Jaune walks to the center of the podium and receives his first place plaque and trophy.

Judge 1: *Shakes his hand* Congratulations, young man.

The crowd applauds in excitement. People then approach him to congratulate him and talk a little more about his dish. It was a great day for him. As time went by the celebration began to die down and he stepped away from everyone to get some air. He finds an empty bench and sits down.

Jaune: *Sighs*

Coco: I told you you'd win.

Jaune turned to see Coco giving her famous smile. But this time she looked different, Jaune could see how the warm light of the festival made her skin shine like the sunset. Her eyes were so beautiful; dark brown like wood. And her hair, was her hair always looked this nice?

Coco: Hello~ Jaune are you there?

Jaune: *Blushing* Huh?! Oh! Sorry! I was thinking on something else.

Coco: Was it about me?~💕

Jaune: *Red* Huh?!!

Coco: Hahaha, I'm just messing with you. Can I sit beside you?

Jaune: *Looks away* S-Sure.

She sits beside him and looks at the starry sky.

Coco: Today the stars look beautiful, don't you think?

Jaune: *Looks at Coco* I... I think so

Coco: *Looks at him* So how do you plan to celebrate your victory?

Jaune: Um... well, I never thought about that.

Coco: That's what I thought, that's why I took the liberty of calling everyone to tell them about your victory and preparing a table for us at Imos Pizza, your favorite pizzeria. My treat.

Jaune: *Smiles* Thank you, Coco.

Coco: Don't even mention it. Now get up and let's eat.

She stands up but jaune grabs her hand.

Jaune: Wait

Coco: Hm?

Jaune: Before we go I just want to say that… Well… Thank you very much for your help.

Coco: It was nothing.

Jaune: It was something!

Coco was a little surprised by Jaune's raised voice. So she looks at him intently, paying attention to every word.

Jaune: I was so nervous about this competition and I thought my friends would be here to support me. But they couldn't come. But you came and not only helped me with my nerves, but you also trusted me. And that's why I… I…

Coco: *Nervous* (Is he... Is he about to....)

At that moment Coco's phone started ringing.

Coco: Sorry! *She immediately grabs her phone and puts it on silent* Sorry about that. You were saying…

Jaune: I... I want to thank you.

Coco: Just that?

Jaune: Y-Yes...

Coco: O-Ok, so should we go now?

Jaune: After you.

Coco: Ok

As she takes the lead while Jaune walks beside her, Jaune can't stop glancing at Coco and a crazy idea pops into his head.

Coco: By the way, Jaune. *She turns to look at him* What kind of pizza do you wan-!!!

At that moment Coco is kissed by Jaune on the lips. She freezes and a few seconds later Jaune realizes what he did.

Jaune: Sorry! I just wanted to kiss you on the cheek! I didn't mean to kiss you on the lips! Um…! I'll see you at the restaurant!

Jaune ran away, leaving Coco behind. Coco can't believe what just happened, and slowly a huge smile fills her face. Jaune just kissed her.

Coco: *giggling like a school girl* Jaune just kissed me. He freaking kiss me! Today is the best day of my life!!

[pinkthrone445]

-Baila conmigo-

(Dance with me)

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fun, soft, first time knowing someone

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary:Mel finds you sad in a bar and decides to step in, not knowing that life will bring you back together again.

(This is the song that they dance together)

One more month without a job call, you had tried in all the schools and positions and no one accepted your degree because you were from another country which they did not consider very superior although you had an excellent and valid degree.

Your mother's voice resounded in your head like a drum, she insisted over and over again that if you left the country your degree would be useless and you would end up working in something you didn't like or that you would end up returning to your country devastated and sad. As you emptied your glass in one gulp, you took her words into consideration and thought about whether it would be the right thing to go back home. The money you had set aside to go live there was about to run out and it was time to make a decision about your future, a pretty quick decision.

It was already late and you were too drunk to decide at the moment, you sighed and leaned your head against the table, how sticky it was made you sigh again. The noise of a glass being placed near you made you raise your head again, a redhead on the other side of the bar was smiling empathetically at you, with a bit of worry in her eyes

-"It's on me"-she said pointing at the drink beside you, it was the same that you were drinking before-"It looks like you need it"-You frowned

-"And you don't look like my bartender..."-you answered and she laughed, a gorgeous soft laugh that you could hear over the music

-"That's because I'm not... I'm on this side of the bar because I'm the bartender's sister... He is an asshole, but putin up with him has privileges, like free drinks"-she said with a gorgeous smile that distracted you for a few seconds

-"I appreciated, but I already had too many... And I still don't feel better... I think it's time to go home" - You answer and she looked at you curious

-"What are you trying to escape from with the drinks?"-she pointed all the empty cups by your side

-"Home... Reality... Being a unsuccessful grown-up?" - You answer looking at the drink with love and want

-"I feel you" - she answered and walked to the other side of the stool to sit beside you with a beer in her hand-"I'm far away from where I picture myself years ago...but that doesn't mean I'm unsuccessful or that you are, you have many years ahead of you yet, plenty of time to figure it out" - she said with a smile and you took the drink

-"I feel like a failure right now, I came here to get a nice job and be happy and now I'm drowning my sorrows in a glass while I reconsider going back to live with my mom"-You muttered embarrassed under your breath

-"I had to get a roommate to help me pay the rent because the money I do is not enough, who is more pathetic? Keep in mind that I'm much older than you" - she laughed drinking from her bottle

-"Hey, this is not a competition, let me be the sad one tonight" - You jocked and you both laughed-"Thanks for the drink... And for the company, you are helping more than the 4 glasses that I already had... Also, for being way older than me, you are very hot"-You said and she looked at you surprised

-"Are you flirting with me right now? You don't even know my name" - she said nervously

-"First I was admiring you... Second, we already stablish that I'm very pathetic, so I had nothing to lose if I said that... And third, I'm (Y/N), nice to meet you" - You said having another sip and she laughed

-"I'm Melissa, nice to meet you too... You are funny" - The redhead looked at your mouth smiling

-"Maybe is the alcohol talking, a few moments ago I was very miserable, but I'm glad to know that I can pursue a clown career if my teaching one still doesn't work" - You slurred your words a little bit

-"I bet they would pay you better that what we teachers make nowadays" - she said finishing her beer

-"Maybe you could be a clown too, you already have the red hair, no need for a wig" - You said without thinking, maybe that would have offended someone else, but instead made her laugh

-"I like you kiddo, you would be definitely a good kid's teacher...witch is your specialty?" - she asked curious

-"I'm a Spanish teacher..."-you looked at her, her eyes were green with little brown dots and the fluorescent lights of the club made them shine in a particular way that made you feel attracted like a moth to the light.

-"Ohh that's cool" - she smiled and you looked the other way

-"It would be cool to find a job with it"-You insisted and she slapped your arm-"Hey!"

-"Stop mopping about it, more chances will come" - She commented to you and you grabbed her hand with a frown

-"Just because you're pretty doesn't give you the right to hit me miss"-You said leaning closer to her squinting your eyes at her, she pulled the arm that you were holding to bring you closer

-"But being pretty has worked for me many times to get out of many things, are you sure that I can't hit you? I bet you would love it in a different situation in a different part of your body" - she flirted back and you smiled looking at the way her lips moved when she talked and how her tongue licked her lips to make them look more shiny and full, you were about to lean more but she pressed her hand on your shoulder stopping you from going any further - "Do you know how to dance?" - she asked and you nodded a little bit dizzy-"Take me to dance then, a Spanish song is playing and I want to know what it says and also how to dance it properly"-she demanded and you laughed standing up and reaching for her hand

-"Whatever the lady wishes" - The redhead got up from her chair smiling as you directed her to the dance floor. You knew the song that was playing very well, you had heard it too many times in your house growing up, it was one of those songs that your mother played at home that you hated but when you grew up you started to sing and love.

The song started slowly and you brought her closer to you by running your hands over her soft arms until you reached her hands and took them firmly, bringing her body closer to you and placing one of your hands on her waist, leaning her hips a little to yours. You gently moved your hips from side to side making her follow you to the rhythm of the beginning of the song while your other hand went up a little and landed on the side of her body almost on her ribs holding her firmly to be able to guide her more easily.

It was funny that the song talked about how no one knew were the night would end, nobody knew what would happen tomorrow, if you would be together or not or if the world would end or not, if you would be the perfect person for each other, end up loving or hating each other... That you should not think too much about the future, this moment was unique and you were alive and you should enjoy that. Nobody could known the end and life was like roulette that will turn no stop, you should let your heart decide what you are feeling tomorrow and just enjoy the present time.

The rhythm began to go faster and you moved away from her to give her a little turn and stick the front of your body to her back making her dance from one side to the other, the redhead followed you well and moved her feet quickly following yours, easily following the rhythm of the salsa you were dancing.

Every time the song slowed down, you stuck her closer to your body so you could gently shake your hips together while you singed the lyrics and when the song went faster, you moved her a little bit away so you could do some spins or some easy tricks. The two complemented each other well and people noticed it and began to make space for the two of you to dance, earning some applause and encouraging comments.

The redhead seemed to enjoy the dance and the attention as she had a smile from ear to ear and her hands squeezed yours every time she looked into your eyes, eyes that shone in a particular way with a lot of joy.

When the song ended you gave her a little spin and a little hug, her laughter reached your ears and that made you smile. You were both agitated from dancing so much but smiling too much. Without letting go of your hand, she pulled you off the dance floor and ordered some lemonades for both of you. The dance and her smile had made you feel sober and quickly awake, so you were grateful that she didn't order something with alcohol in it again.

-"That was so much fun!" - Melissa said over the music and you focused on her smile while you had your drink

-"You surprised me, I thought you didn't knew how to dance that kind of music" - You said laughing and she smiled

-"I've been in a few dancing clases, I never said that I didn't danced, I asked if you knew how to... What did the song say?" - She asked, gently pushing you in a playful way with the side of her hip

-"It talked about how nobody knows about the future and how you should enjoy the present and do what you heart wishes without think too much about it..."-you said and blushed a little bit but the darkness of the bar didn't let it show

-"And what is that your heart wishes right now?" - she asked grabbing your jacket and pulling you closer to her, your eyes immediately went to her lips-"Maybe a kiss?" - she played and you nodded, too dumb to speak-"That would be only fair after such an amazing dance" - she said before slowly getting closer to you and pressing her lips to yours, thing that you inmediatly reciprocated grabbing her waist and bringing her closer. Her lips were a little bit salty for the heat of the dance and a little bit sour for the lemonade, but at the same time it was sweet with a cherry taste from her lipstick, it was addictive. Your hands clenched more to her body at the same time the kiss grew more deep. She parted her lips a little bit and you swipe your tongue in her lips after getting in her mouth. Her tongue danced with yours even more expertly that the dance you had minutes ago. Her hand went to your neck and her nails scratched the skin softly and playfully, making you whimper, thing that made her smile on your lips.

You wanted to keep kissing her all night long, but time run out when her phone rang. With an annoyed moan, the redhead pulled away a little and looked at her messages, her happy face diminished a little and she gave you a sympathetic smile

-"My roommate it's waiting for me outside, tomorrow we have to work and I don't have my car here, I'm sorry..."-she said and you smiled caressing her waist

-"Don't worry, thank you for making me feel better, I had a lot of fun" - You said honestly and she put on her jacket

-"Thank you for the dance...Do you want to go out tomorrow?... if you are still here in the country..."-she asked messing with you and you nodded smiling-"I'll send you a message then" - she comment and gave you a last peck before going away.

You were too happy and she was too rushed to realize that you hadn't exchanged numbers or anything, thing you didn't realize until the uber dropped you at your home.

As you changed and removed your makeup, you couldn't help but smile from remembering the things and the fun time you spent together.

When you got inside your bed, you were about to fall asleep when your cell phone rang lighting up your room, when you picked it up and opened your email, you almost jumped out of bed when you read that you had a job offer, at an elementary school replacing a teacher, for the next day. You quickly got out of bed to look for an appropriate outfit and leave things ready for the next day, you knew that it would be difficult to sleep now with such much excitement.

Thoughts about the redhead and her kisses took a back seat when you started planning the next day's classes.

The next morning, even though you had slept little, the excitement made you feel fresh as a lettuce. When you got out of your car you put your bag over your shoulder and squeezed the straps in your hand, with the other, you took your necklace, giving a small kiss to the medal you had around your neck to ask for good luck before entering the building.

Before you could take a step inside, some firefighters arrived and took everyone out of the school, confused you waited outside with some of the students. While you waited, you started talking to some of the teachers to learn a little bit about the kids and the classes. Some of them explained you a few things and were happy to have a new teacher in the school, others were talking about what caused the alarms to go off and didn't payed attention to you. They only stoped talking when they were being interrupted when one of the fire captains walked through the school doors

-"Okay... So, apparently one of the students had been smoking in the bathrooms and activated the smoke alarm..."-he said but you immediately stoped paying attention to him when you saw a special redhead walking behind him, like the sight of an oasis in the desert, that familiar face gave you a little peace to see her there... And also a little/much anxiety

-"We found the little rascal with Melissa, she sniffed him out" - one of the other teachers said

-"One sniff and I'm back to when..."-Her gaze met yours and for a moment her mind was filled with memories from the night before and she forgot how words were used - "Back... To... Nevermind, the important thing is that we found him"-she said and looked the other way avoiding your eyes going with another older teacher.

After some time and talks, the school resumed it's course.

Ava stopped you at the entrance to give you your pass and explain a couple of things that you almost didn't hear because you were focused on the redhead who was bringing the children to her classroom

-"... And Melissa is the other second grade teacher, so if you need help, you can ask her, because I can't help you... I mean, I can but I don't want to"-The principal said and you nodded smiling to her shily before walking away to your classroom to meet the children, looking sideways at the redhead who stopped next to the school principal once you were gone

-"She is hot, isn't she?" - Ava said checking you out while you walked away and Melissa looked at her frowning

-"Isn't that inappropriate to say at school about one of your coworkers?" - The redhead asked and Ava laughed

-"No if she doesn't hear it... Besides, I saw how you looked at her... Maybe she can feel uncomfortable with that too"-The principal remarked and the redhead rolled her eyes and went to her classroom, thinking what would be the appropriate way to address you now that you would be working there.

_______________________________________________

I'm back bitches! Bye

[wileys-russo]

spontaneous II l.williamson x reader

just some fluff because she's so annoying gf coded spontaneous II l.williamson x reader

you jumped slightly as you heard your phone start to ring, hunting about in the mountain of cushions you were curled up in to find it, huffing in annoyance as it stopped ringing.

you paused for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief as it started to ring again, finally finding it wedged down the side of the lounge, pulling it out with a grunt, squealing as you almost sent yourself toppling off the edge.

"hello?" you breathed out, hearing an all too familiar chuckle on the other end of the line. "why are you so out of breath?" leah asked and you could already tell she had an amused smile curled into her lips.

"did you lose your phone in the lounge again?" she questioned with a chuckle. "no!" you huffed, only rewarded with silence. "yes." you admitted quietly, leahs laugh ringing through as you whined it wasn't funny.

"is there a reason you called besides to take the piss out of me? the whole point of you not being home is that i get a break from that." you rolled your eyes as now she was the one to huff. "hey! i was calling because i missed you." leah groaned as you now laughed.

"you left three hours ago lee. what do you really want?" you questioned with a smile, knowing her all too well. "so there's this campaign i'm doing with some of the england girls-" leah started as you hummed that you were listening along.

"-and i'm going to do something for it. ive made up my mind and i don't want you try and talk me out of it, okay?" your girlfriend continued firmly as you hummed again in agreeance, eyebrows knitting into a suspicious frown. "okay."

"i'm cutting a fringe. well, bangs? i dunno the technical term. but i'm doing it!" leah stated as you winced. "just for the campaign? baby..." you started, hesitation clear in your voice.

"i told you love, my mind is made up." "leah is this really the best idea." "yes! it's just hair babe, it grows back." "well yeah but fringes, bangs, whatever, they take time to get used to. don't you want to think this over a little?" "i have! i had a fringe in the picture they're using so it makes sense to cut one, fully commit you know."

"leah-" you started again, the blonde cutting you off saying she was being called back to set. "i love you and i'll see you at home my pretty girl. mwah!" and with an air kiss blown she'd hung up.

with a sigh you very carefully placed your phone on the coffee table, eliminating the possibility of losing it again as you shook your head. you'd always loved how spontaneous leah could be, the blonde whisking you out on surprise picnics, dinners, dates.

but the impulsive last minute weekends away were a little different than a spontaneous decision to cut her hair. though you suppose you should be grateful it was a hair cut and not a tattoo, not that that was something you'd put past the older girl.

"only me!" you heard the front door slam shut as you looked up from the pile of laundry you were currently sorting through, dropping the hoodie in your hands you vowed to return to finish this later. you really didn't have much of a choice given the clothes were scattered all over the bed you'd need to sleep in tonight.

"welcome hom- oo you brought pizza!" you realised happily, spotting the boxes in her hands right as leah dropped them on the counter, skidding to a stop in front of them. "god i love you." you sighed happily, flipping open the first box and inhaling the godly smell.

"excuse me!" leah cleared her throat, offended that your shared dinner was currently getting more of your attention than she was. "sorry baby. hello!" you turned to her with a smile, pecking her lips a few times and turning back to the food.

"oi! sexy girlfriend with a new haircut is feeling neglected and under appreciated here." leah huffed again as you reached for a slice of pizza, spinning back to face her with wide eyes. "oh yeah! sorry my love." you apologized with a sheepish smile, actually focusing on her now.

"do you like it?" leah wondered as you tucked a strand behind her ear, staring at her as always awestruck by her beauty, forever in disbelief she was your girlfriend. "i love it baby, it really suits you." you beamed, eyes scanning over the way her fringe framed her face.

"it's longer than i thought though." you added, hands cupping her cheeks and gently turning her face side to side. "can you tie it back?" you questioned, tangling your hands in her hair and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

"not yet, but it grows fast." leah shrugged, pulling you back into her for another kiss and you hummed. "what was that for?" the blonde frowned at your small noise. "what? i didn't say anything." you laughed, leaning up to kiss her but she craned her neck away.

"no. your little hmm, i know that tone missy!" leah warned making you roll your eyes. "it doesn't mean anything. i love it leah, honestly i'm in disbelief that you could somehow get more beautiful but here you are proving me wrong." you smiled charmingly, again leaning up to kiss her but she pulled away again.

"hey! kiss me." you smacked her chest lightly with an unimpressed scowl. "tell me what you really think." leah spoke with a huff, grabbing your hands in hers and staring you down.

"i wasn't lying, i really do think it suits you baby and you look beautiful."

"but?"

“but i think after a few days the not being able to tie it back is going to get on your nerves." you smiled apologetically and honestly.

"it won't! i can tuck it behind my ears, see?" she dropped your hands and showed you as you nodded. "you asked and i answered lee, i'm not trying to get into a debate about it with you." you chuckled at her stubbornness, turning away from her.

"i thought you wanted a kiss?" your girlfriend seemingly returned to her normal self, giving you a boyish grin and raising her eyebrows. "mmm i did but you decided to play twenty questions and now i want pizza." you teased, hauling yourself up onto the counter.

leah moved between your legs, dropping her bag on the floor as her hands played with the hem of your shorts. though before she could say another word your stomach interrupted, growling loudly and hungrily.

"told you i wanted pizza." you grinned, biting down happily on the slice in your hand. "such a gremlin." leah shook her head, grabbing your wrist and stealing a bite of your slice.

"oh please you love me."

“far too much for my own good i'm afraid baby girl."

~

and sure enough, your words were proven true just two days after you'd spoke them.

you awoke to the sound of groaning, sitting up tiredly and rubbing your face as you spotted leahs back to you, the girl hunched over in your ensuite.

"babe what's wrong?" you yawned, stretching and settling back against the headboard. "it's such a pain in my ass!" leah groaned loudly again and you managed an amused smile as she slumped down on the bathroom counter resting her head on her arms.

"leah what are you on about?" you chuckled, now a little more awake as the blonde stood and marched back into the bedroom. "it's killing me!" the defender moaned loudly, collapsing onto the bed dramatically with a sigh.

"what is?" you laughed, poking at her as she sat up with a huff. "look!" she gestured to her fringe which was sticking out at all sorts of awkward angles. "it won't sit right." leah growled, trying to style it with her fingers as you grinned.

"don't say it." "i'm gonna say it." "please don't say it!" "well now i have to say it."

"baby!" leah whined, smacking the bed with her hand and pouting at you. "i was right, i told you it would annoy you that you couldn't tie it back." you grinned happily, leah groaning even louder and once more dramatically flopping back into bed.

"i hate it when you're right." she mumbled into her pillow as you gently massaged the back of her neck with a smile. "thats because you're an aries." you chuckled as she turned her head to fix you with a scowl.

"now is not the time for your biased zodiac bullshit. i need help! i have training." leah whined, kicking her legs like a disgruntled toddler and settling with a huff. "help me." she pouted up at you as you shook your head, kissing away at her lips for a moment.

"come on." you chuckled, swinging yourself out of bed and offering her a hand up. "you're such a baby." you laughed, bending down and grabbing her hands, hauling her taller body up with a huff as she collapsed into you. "am not." she mumbled into your shoulder.

"leah!" you laughed again as she sagged her full body weight into you, dragging her with you to the bathroom with some struggle. "sit down." you pushed her to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.

"needy." you teased as her fingers gripped your hips and she pouted again, tapping her lips expectantly as you peppered them with gentle kisses.

"you just need to style it, we can go back to the salon and get the right products but this will have to do for now." you rummaged through your side of the vanity, pulling out a few things.

within a few minutes you'd gotten her fringe to sit not too differently to how they had the day she'd got them cut, gesturing for her to look in the mirror. "oh you're a miracle worker." leah sighed in relief as you hummed, reaching past her to put the products back.

"i love you. so so so much!" leah grabbed you suddenly, dipping your body as you squealed and she attacked your face with kisses. "okay okay! let me up romeo." you pushed at her shoulders, quite worried she'd drop you as she twirled you, spinning your body into hers with a wolfish grin.

"okay princess charming go and get ready for training!" you smiled with a shake of your head. "mm wanna save some water with me? it's good for the environment baby." leah suggested, gripping onto you tighter.

"would you like breakfast before you leave?" you challenged with a raise of your eyebrows. "because a hangry grumpy leah williamson isn't good for the environment either, i think i'm doing your team a favor making sure you're fed." you teased, pinching her sides as her hands moved to squeeze your bum, leah stealing the breath from your lungs with a searing kiss before she let you go.

"to the kitchen with you then woman!" she shooed you off as you gave her a look, hands on hips. "i mean please make me some food gorgeous?" she tried again with a charming smile as you hummed, leaving her behind to get ready.

she returned around twenty minutes later, kissing your cheek in thanks as she stole a piece of bacon off your plate as if she didn't already have a pile on hers. "hey! that is not how i styled them." you finally took her in as she sat on the island with her plate, fringe pushed back with a thick black headband.

"yeah but this way they're out of my face for when i run! and it looks sexy, no?" leah smirked, shoveling a mouthful of eggs into her mouth as you grimaced, forever warning her to taste her food and not to just inhale it, worried sometimes she'd choke.

"maybe if i harbored some deeply rooted secret affliction for ralph macchio. you look ridiculous!" you shook your head, flipping your omelette.

"ridiculously good looking baby." leah winked, having already nearly finished her plate of food and eyeing off your bacon.

"i don't know where you put it sometimes." you rolled your eyes and handed her your plate as she kissed your hand in thanks. "i burn it off with all my hardcore training, obviously!" leah retorted with a mouthful of food and you grimaced at her in disgust.

"see this is what your mum and i mean when we say sometimes we think you're possessed by a teenage boy." you rolled your eyes, dropping your omelette onto your place and smothering it with tomato sauce.

"leah!" you scowled as she burped loudly. "proving my point here." you pointed your fork at her menacingly as she shrugged. "you're the one whose hopelessly in love with me, sounds like a personal issue." she pushed your head to the side as she dumped her plate in the sink.

"go away already would you? i have five blissful hours of peace and quiet on the agenda that you're interrupting." you sighed happily, taking her seat at the counter as leah now rolled her eyes, grabbing her slides from by the door and shoving them into her gym bag.

"you're such a delight in the mornings. charming as ever darling!" leah chuckled with a shake of her head. "had you not been up before me moaning and groaning about your hair i'd have been the one dealing with you being a delight and refusing to get up thanks." you warned, swallowing a mouthful and offering some to leah who grimaced at the vegetables present.

"too many colours for me." she joked, pushing your outstretched fork back toward your own mouth. "sorry i forgot not only are you possessed by a teenage boy you've got the flavour pallet and patience of a toddler." you added on.

"excuse me what is it pick on leah morning? and you say i'm a bully!" the blonde scoffed in disbelief, hugging you from behind and slumping her body into yours. "i don't say you're a bully you're just incredibly annoying like...eighty percent of the time. other than that you're very sweet!" you grinned, squirming as she exhaled unhappily into your neck.

"ow! leah." you yelped as she suddenly bit your shoulder, and not in the way you normally enjoyed. "its how i show my love, since i'm so annoying." she grumbled, doing it again as you pushed your back into her sending her stumbling back.

"sorry love i didn't realise you were so sensative." you craned your head back to pout up at her sarcastically. "the sarcasm is not missed and not appreciated young lady." the blonde retorted, kissing you none the less.

"i am six months younger than you, nanna!" "key word being...younger?" "sorry i'll be sure to start telling everyone my girlfriends a cougar." "mm i prefer milf personally." "secret child you're not telling me about then?" "yeah hundreds of them." "god an army of tiny williamsons? think i've seen that before in a nightmare!"

"ah! no biting." you yelled, smacking her as she bit you again, though this time not as hard. "hardly call you a milf when you are such a child yourself." you huffed, rubbing at your shoulder where there was a perfectly indented teeth mark.

"can't blame me with this attitude you're showing me woman, you normally don't mind a few cheeky marks." leah gently kissed over it with a wink as you flicked her forehead and pushed her away from you.

"go brush your teeth milf, and fix that hair!" you shoved her away again as she pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, mocking your words and jogging back upstairs.

"i'll see you later then babe, try not to miss me too much." returning downstairs after she'd brushed her teeth she gave you a minty kiss goodbye, grabbing her bag off the table where she'd left it.

"leah." you called after her as she raised an eyebrow, hand on the doorknob. "forgetting something?" you questioned, an amused smile on your lips. "no?" your girlfriend frowned in confusion. "so how are you getting to training then?" you asked again as her frown deepened.

"oh." she realised, face blushing bright red and darting to grab her car keys from the bowl in the kitchen. "told you we need to get some hooks for them." you mumbled against her lips with a smile as she kissed you in thanks.

"i'll grab some on my way home, just text me if we need anything else."

"try not to hurt anyone today, karate kid." you teased, waving her goodbye as she made some sort of strange war cry noise, kicking out her leg and catching the hallway table, sending a few things crashing to the floor and a long string of curse words into the air as she hopped around clutching her foot.

before she could even speak her phone pinged in her hand. "did you just text me to replace what fell down and broke?" leah sighed knowingly, adjusting her bag on the shoulder.

"you told me to if we needed anything." you grinned, the blonde unable to argue as she blew you a kiss and with a loud mwah, the door slammed and she was gone.

[estellan0vella]

A Chance Encounter Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint scent of pastries in the bustling café. You sit by the window, the warm sunlight streaming through the glass, casting a soft glow on your sketchbook. With each stroke of your pencil, a new design takes shape, intricate patterns and delicate lines flowing effortlessly from your hand. It's your sanctuary, a place where you lose yourself in the art, forgetting the world around you.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over your sketchbook. You look up to find a man standing there, his pink hair catching the light, his red eyes locked onto your drawings. He's tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos, each one more intricate than the last. He exudes an air of confidence and mystery that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Those are some impressive sketches," he says, his voice deep and smooth. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

You nod, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. He studies your drawings with a keen eye, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he pulls out a business card and scribbles something on the back before handing it to you.

"I'm Sukuna," he introduces himself with a charming smile. "I own a tattoo parlour nearby. I'd love to see more of your work. Here's my card, and I've added my personal number. Give me a call if you're interested."

With that, he walks away, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a business card that feels like a golden ticket. You can't help but smile as you slip the card into your pocket, already anticipating the conversation you'll have later with your flatmate.

That night, you and Gojo settle into your usual routine: wine, face masks, and a cheesy movie playing in the background. The soft glow of the TV casts a cozy ambiance in the room as you recount the events of the day. Gojo's eyes widen in disbelief, his face covered in a bright green face mask.

"Wait, wait, wait," he says, sitting up straight and nearly spilling his wine. "You're telling me a drop-dead sexy man gave you his personal number? This is not a drill, Y/N! We need to talk about this."

You laugh, feeling the warmth of the wine and Gojo's infectious excitement. "I know, right? He owns a tattoo parlour and seemed really interested in my sketches. I think I might actually call him."

Gojo's grin widens. "You absolutely should. This is fate, my dear. Sexy tattoo artists don't just walk into your life every day."

You sip your wine, a thoughtful look on your face. "I mean, what if he was just being polite? Maybe he gives his number to a lot of people."

"Y/N," Gojo says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Men like that do not just hand out their personal numbers. He's interested. And he owns a tattoo parlour? That's like, instant cool points."

"I guess," you reply, unable to keep a smile from forming. "He was really intense, though. Those red eyes... I felt like he could see right through me."

Gojo leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me more about him. What else did he say?"

"He asked if I worked anywhere and complimented my sketches," you say, replaying the encounter in your mind. "Then he handed me his business card with his number on the back and told me to call him if I was looking for something more."

Gojo gasps theatrically. "Y/N, this is like something out of a romance novel! You have to call him. Imagine all the possibilities. Maybe you'll get an amazing job and a hot boyfriend out of this."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Slow down, Satoru. It's just a phone number. Besides, what if he's not looking for anything serious?"

Gojo waves his hand dismissively. "Please. You won't know until you call him. Worst case, you have a fun fling with a gorgeous guy. Best case, you get a new job and a fantastic relationship. It's a win-win."

"You make it sound so easy," you say, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "But what if he's not what I'm expecting? What if he doesn't like me once he gets to know me?"

Gojo places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, you're amazing. If he doesn't see that, then it's his loss. But you owe it to yourself to find out. Take the chance."

You nod, feeling a surge of determination. "You're right. I'll go to the parlour in a few days"

"That's my girl!" Gojo cheers, clinking his glass against yours. "Now, let's focus on this movie and see if the heroine ends up with the handsome prince."

A few days later, you find yourself standing outside Sukuna's tattoo parlour, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. The shop is a blend of modern and edgy, with bold artwork adorning the walls and a sleek, inviting atmosphere.

As you step inside, you're greeted by two men lounging near the reception desk. One has long black hair tied back, and the other is muscular with short, spiky hair. They glance up as you enter, their eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Well, well, well," the long-haired man says with a smirk. "If it isn't the pretty woman from the coffee shop. Sukuna's been talking about you."

The other man chuckles, giving you a once-over. "I'm Geto, and this is Toji. Sukuna's been in a good mood since he met you. I gotta say, we're all curious."

You blush, feeling a bit flustered under their teasing gazes. "I'm Y/N. Sukuna invited me to come by and show him more of my sketches."

Before you can say more, Sukuna emerges from the back room, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Y/N, you made it," he says, his tone warm and inviting. "Come on back, I'd love to see what you've brought."

You follow him into his office, the walls lined with more of his impressive artwork. He motions for you to sit, and you spread out your sketchbook, showing him your latest designs. He flips through the pages, his expression thoughtful and appreciative.

"These are incredible," he says, looking up at you with admiration. "Have you ever thought about doing tattoos yourself?"

You hesitate, then shake your head. "I don't think I could. I have epilepsy, and I wouldn't feel comfortable working on someone's skin with the risk of a seizure."

Sukuna's expression softens with understanding. "I get that. But your designs are too good to go unnoticed. How about this – you design the tattoos, and I'll handle the inking? We can call it a collaboration."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "That sounds amazing. But are you sure? Mixing business and pleasure can be tricky."

He leans in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'll make an exception to the rule this time. How about we discuss it over drinks?"

You agree, and later that evening, you find yourself in a cozy bar with Sukuna, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate. As you sip your drinks, he tells you about his three-year-old brother, Yuji, and how he became Yuji's legal guardian after their parents died.

"It's been a challenge," he admits, his eyes reflecting both pride and a hint of weariness. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Yuji's everything to me."

You share a bit about your own background, mentioning your strained relationship with your wealthy family. He doesn't press for details, respecting your boundaries.

"I want you to have this," you say, handing him a small card. "It's instructions on what to do if I have a seizure. Just in case."

Sukuna takes the card, his expression serious as he reads it. "Thank you for trusting me with this," he says sincerely. "I want to make sure you're safe."

You smile, feeling a connection growing between you. "I've got some stories if you're interested."

His grin returns, and he leans in closer, eager to listen. "I'm all ears."

You take a deep breath, recalling some of the more memorable experiences. "Once I learned what the aura was I used it to my advantage so when I'd feel one coming on I'd freak out my asshole family members by saying some freaky shit before dropping into a seizure"

Sukuna's eyes widen with intrigue and amusement. "Freaky shit, huh? Give me an example."

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink to gather your thoughts. "Okay, so there was this one time at a family dinner. I felt a seizure coming on, and my aunt was going on and on about some new business venture. I interrupted her and said, 'Auntie, the spirits are restless tonight. They demand a sacrifice.' Then I started to convulse and dropped to the floor."

Sukuna bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way! That must have scared the hell out of her."

"It did," you reply, grinning. "She screamed and started throwing holy water at me. It was pure chaos. My parents were mortified especially when other family started recommeding exorcists. My aunt, bless her, she never quite looked at me the same way again."

"I can imagine," Sukuna snorts. 

The night continues with more stories and laughter, the bond between you growing stronger. When it's time to leave, Sukuna insists on walking you back to your apartment.

As you approach your building, you spot Gojo waiting by the entrance, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you with Sukuna.

"Well, well," Gojo teases, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone had a good night."

You laugh, feeling a bit shy under his scrutiny. "Gojo, this is Sukuna. Sukuna, this is my flatmate, Gojo."

Gojo extends a hand, shaking Sukuna's firmly. "Nice to meet you, Sukuna. I've heard a lot about you."

Sukuna nods, his demeanor friendly but reserved. "Likewise. Take care of her, Gojo."

With that, Sukuna bids you goodnight, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns to leave. You watch him go, a smile playing on your lips.

Inside the apartment, Gojo wastes no time. "Okay, spill. How was it?"

You flop onto the couch, feeling giddy. "It was amazing. He's so kind and understanding. And did I mention how sexy he is?"

Gojo laughs, grabbing his phone. "Let's see this parlour of his. If he's as hot as you say, I need to check out his work."

You both gather around the laptop, pulling up the website for Sukuna's tattoo parlour. The screen fills with images of stunning artwork and a few photos of the team.

Gojo points to one of the pictures, his eyes widening when he spots one of Sukuna's co-workers. "Is that one Geto? I want to lick him like a lollipop."

You burst into laughter, the wine and the excitement of the night making everything feel surreal. "Gojo, you're incorrigible."

He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "What can I say? I have a weakness for hot guys with tattoos. But seriously, Y/N, I'm happy for you. He seems like a great guy."

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "Yeah, he really is. I think this could be the start of something special."

"So, Y/N," Gojo begins with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "it's criminal that you didn't go home with Sukuna tonight."

You playfully roll your eyes, knowing where this is headed. "Oh, come on, Gojo. We had a great time together. That's what matters."

He gives you an exaggerated sigh, as if disappointed by your response. "Fine, fine. I'll let it slide this time. But," he adds with a pointed look, "you owe me."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "I owe you? What for?"

Gojo leans in conspiratorially, his grin widening. "You're going to start working at Sukuna's parlour, right? Well, since you'll be seeing that sexy man every day, it's only fair that you set me up with Geto."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his audacity. "You're shameless, Gojo. But I'll consider it."

"Consider it?" he exclaims dramatically. "Y/N, my dear friend, this is a matter of utmost importance! Geto needs to know that I'm interested."

"You're impossible," you chuckle, picking up your phone to check the time. "Speaking of which, I should probably text Sukuna and let him know I got home safely."

Gojo perks up immediately, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ooh, can I help with that?"

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

He grins devilishly. "Give me your phone. I'll text him for you."

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the risks of letting Gojo loose with your phone. But after a moment's thought, you hand it over with a smirk. "Alright, but no funny business."

Gojo takes the phone eagerly, his fingers flying over the screen as he composes a message. "Don't worry, I'll be on my best behavior."

He taps away for a few seconds before showing you the screen. "There. Sent."

You read the message aloud, your eyes widening in surprise. "It's Gojo. Does Geto like men?"

Gojo grins triumphantly, handing the phone back to you. "Now we wait for Sukuna's response."

"You're unbelievable," you laugh, shaking your head as you put your phone down. "I can't believe you just did that."

As you set your phone down, still chuckling at Gojo's audacity, it suddenly lights up with an incoming call. Your heart skips a beat as you see Sukuna's name flashing on the screen.

"Oh no," you mutter, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "He's calling."

Gojo raises an eyebrow mischievously. "Well, aren't you going to answer?"

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to let Gojo handle the situation. But before you can make a move, Gojo snatches up your phone with a grin and answers it before you can stop him.

"Hello, Sukuna," Gojo says casually, leaning back on the couch as if he's answering his own phone. "Yeah, it's me, Gojo. Sorry to disappoint, but Y/N left her phone with me. So, does Geto like men?"

You lunge forward, panic rising in your chest. "Gojo, give me that phone!"

But Gojo dodges your grasp effortlessly, grinning as he keeps his attention on the call. "What? Oh, she's fine. Just a bit annoyed that I'm hijacking her phone. So, about Geto..."

You let out an exasperated groan, trying again to grab the phone from him. "Gojo, seriously! Give it back!"

Gojo laughs, evading your attempts with surprising agility as he continues speaking into the phone. "Yeah, yeah, Y/N's trying to kill me for asking. But hey, inquiring minds want to know."

You dive for the phone once more, nearly toppling over the coffee table in your pursuit. "Gojo, I swear!"

Gojo dances away from you, effortlessly dodging your furious attempts to reclaim your phone. "Hold on, Sukuna. Let me put you on speaker. Y/N's dying to hear the answer."

You freeze, realizing you're caught in Gojo's playful trap. You give up your chase for a moment, glaring at him with mock fury. "Gojo, you're impossible."

He grins mischievously, finally relenting and putting the call on speaker. "Alright, Sukuna. Now that we have an audience, spill the beans. Does Geto like men? I need to know if that criminally sexy hunk of man meat is my future husband"

"For fuck sake," You mutter, taking a big gulp from the wine bottle. 

The room fills with Sukuna's laughter as Gojo's audacious questions ring through the speakerphone. You groan inwardly, burying your face in a nearby cushion as you listen to your friend's shameless interrogation.

Sukuna's amused voice cuts through the air. "Gojo, you're certainly direct. I can't say about Geto's preferences, but I'm sure he'd appreciate the attention."

Gojo, undeterred, continues his playful banter. "Alright, fair enough. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how hot do you think my best friend is?"

You shoot Gojo a death glare, mouthing 'stop it' furiously, but he's too engrossed in his antics to notice. You grab a cushion and hurl it at him with all your might, hitting him square in the face.

"Ow! Hey!" Gojo protests, momentarily distracted from the call. "Okay, okay, I get it. Just asking for a friend."

Sukuna chuckles on the other end of the line. "I'd say she's a solid eleven."

You groan again, your face burning with embarrassment as you snatch the phone from Gojo's hand. "I'm so sorry, Sukuna. He's incorrigible."

"No need to apologize," Sukuna replies. "It's been entertaining, to say the least. But Gojo, you might want to tread carefully with those questions."

Gojo rubs his nose where the cushion hit him, his grin undiminished. "Understood, Sukuna. But one last thing – you don't cry after doing it, right? Because if so, you're not allowed near Y/N. She's been through that before-"

Sukuna's hearty laughter echoes through the speakerphone again as Gojo's teasing provokes another exasperated response from you. You grab your sketchbook from the coffee table and fling it at Gojo with all your might. The sketchbook sails through the air, narrowly missing Gojo's head as he ducks, still chuckling.

Before Gojo can finish his sentence, you launch yourself at him with a primal yell, tackling him to the ground. He lets out a surprised grunt as the two of you crash onto the floor, cushions and blankets flying everywhere.

"Gojo, shut up!" you yell, wrestling to pin him down while he continues to laugh uproariously.

You manage to wrest the phone from Gojo's grasp and, without missing a beat, dash toward your bedroom. "Sorry, Sukuna! Give me a second!" you call out, sprinting down the hallway. Gojo's laughter follows you as you slam your door shut and lock it, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.

"Finally," you mutter, bringing the phone to your ear. "Sorry about that, Sukuna. Gojo can be a bit... much."

Sukuna's laughter is still present in his voice. "No worries, Y/N. It was entertaining. You have quite the energetic friend."

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, feeling a mix of exasperation and fondness. "So, about what Gojo said..."

"Don't worry, I'm not a crier," Sukuna says and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," You say.

"I'm curious to know about the crier," Sukuna's voice has a teasing lilt to it. 

"I'll tell you!" Gojo calls through the door. "Her ex would cry almost every time they-"

"Gojo, I will take the kitchen knife and-" you start to threaten, your voice carrying a mix of genuine frustration and playful menace.

Gojo's voice interrupts you through the door. "And do what? Cut my precious hair? You wouldn't dare!"

"No, I have some garden shears reserved for your hair!" you call back, your tone dripping with mock menace. "Rusty and blunt."

Gojo's laughter booms through the door. "You wouldn't dare. My hair is a work of art!"

"It's a work of something, that's for sure," you retort, a grin spreading across your face despite yourself.

Behind the door, you hear Gojo's exaggerated gasp. "I am hurt, Y/N. Deeply hurt. I thought we were friends."

"We are," you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, stop eavesdropping."

Gojo's voice turns playful again. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you and Sukuna to your romantic phone call in peace. But remember, if you need any tips on handling a tattooed bad boy, I'm your man."

You roll your eyes, the amusement clear in your voice. "Thanks, Gojo. I'll keep that in mind."

Once you're sure Gojo has retreated, you settle back against your bedroom door with a sigh, bringing the phone back to your ear. "Sorry about that, Sukuna."

Sukuna's warm chuckle fills your ear. "No need to apologize. Your friend seems... colorful."

"That's one way to describe him," you agree, feeling a smile tug at your lips. "So, what were you saying before we were interrupted?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come to the parlour again," Sukuna says, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. "But this time, it's closed, and I thought we could have a different kind of date."

Your curiosity piques. "A different kind of date?"

"Yeah," Sukuna continues, his tone gentle yet filled with anticipation. "I have some fake skin for tattoo practice. I thought maybe you could bring your sketches, and I could show you some basics. If you're interested, of course."

The idea sends a thrill through you. "That sounds amazing, Sukuna. I'd love to learn more about tattooing from you."

"Great," Sukuna replies, his voice warm with approval. "How about tomorrow evening? I'll set everything up, and we can take our time."

You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of spending more time with Sukuna and delving into his world of tattoo artistry. "Tomorrow evening sounds perfect. I can't wait."

"Me neither," Sukuna says softly. "I'll text you the details. Until then, Y/N."

"Until then, Sukuna," you reply, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as you hang up the phone.

As you hang up with Sukuna, Gojo bursts back into your room with his usual dramatic flair. "So, spill the tea! What did Sukuna say? When's the next hot date?"

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, shaking your head at his antics. "Tomorrow evening. We're going to the parlour after hours."

Gojo's eyes widen in mock surprise. "Ooh, after hours? That's scandalous. Are you sure you're ready for that level of intimacy?"

Rolling your eyes, you play along with his teasing. "It's not like that, Gojo. We're just going to practice tattooing on fake skin."

Gojo raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Sure, sure. Tattooing. I get it. Wink wink."

You laugh, swatting at him playfully. "Stop it, you perv."

Ignoring your protest, Gojo flops down on your bed dramatically. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you. Sukuna seems like a good guy. And hot, let's not forget hot."

"You're not wrong," you admit with a grin, unable to deny Sukuna's attractiveness.

"And what about Geto?" Gojo prompts eagerly, propping himself up on his elbows. "When are you setting me up with him? You promised!"

You shake your head, amused by his persistence. "I'll see what I can do, Gojo. But don't get your hopes up too high."

"I'm counting on you, Y/N," Gojo says dramatically, clutching his heart as if wounded. "My future happiness depends on this."

"Your future happiness depends on many things, but sure, I'll add 'Geto matchmaker' to my list," you reply, teasing him gently.

Gojo grins, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. "You know I trust you with my love life, Y/N. You've got impeccable taste."

"That's debatable," you quip back, enjoying the banter with your friend.

He sits up suddenly, his expression turning serious for a moment. "But seriously, Y/N. I'm glad you're hitting it off with Sukuna. You deserve someone who appreciates your sketches and makes you laugh."

Your heart warms at his sincerity. "Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot."

"Anytime," Gojo says with a grin, returning to his usual playful demeanour. "Now, back to Sukuna and Geto. Double date soon, perhaps?"

You laugh, shaking your head at his relentless matchmaking efforts. "Let's see how tomorrow goes first, okay?"

"Fair enough," Gojo concedes with a shrug. "But just remember, I'm counting on you."

"I won't forget," you assure him, already looking forward to the next chapter with Sukuna and whatever adventures (and matchmaking schemes) Gojo might drag you into next.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1

[localplaguenurse]

(Puts cracker in your mouth)

I am eating your blind reader right outta the pot and I was struck with a singular thought that hasn’t left my mind

What if when reader bumped into pants he ruined pants’ clothing in some kinda way (spilled drink/smeared ink from hands/food being smeared on etc)

For context: I was brainstorming a future fic starring a blind reader in discord.

You know what? It's not going in the current version so I'm writing this version here. Consider this a part one to the actual fic. (sorry beta)

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader)

Notes: SFW, first meetings, Pantalone's kind of a dick, and so is Reader's dad. Reader has retinitis pigmentosa which is a genetic condition that causes your retinas to deteriorate over time. He has central vision but also experiences night blindness and loss of peripheral vision. Not beta read.

The sounds of merriment echo through the halls of your family estate, the clicks and clacks of your typewriter unable to drown the sound out as you work. The noises grow louder once the band kicks in, and grow louder still once dinner is served. The smell of fresh food does not travel to your study like the music and laughter did, this section of the manor is a little too remote for that, but you know with the chime of the clock on your wall that this is when it should be brought out.

While not an outright demand, your father had advised you wait in your office for a servant to bring you a helping. Your mother protested, saying there were plenty of people who would love to meet her darling sweetheart of a son, there's no need for you to stay cooped up in your study! You gently reassured her that it was fine, really. The deadline for your novel's first draft is coming up soon, so you really should focus on finishing it as soon as you can. Besides, there is some rather elite company attending the party, and you know your father does not want to risk you making a fool of yourself, and also him by association.

Time ticked on, and your stomach growled, breaking the concentration you barely maintained on writing. You look up, right at the spot on the wall where the clock is. While you can't really see the time at this distance, you know the staff should have brought you your helping some time ago. You sigh, and stand.

You don't dislike parties, you think you enjoy them as much as the next person actually. The problem is that you don't like large, crowded parties due to your condition. Your central vision is perfectly fine, but you've been steadily losing your peripheral vision ever since you were little. It's been especially bad the past few years, to the point you will trip over anything that is not directly in front of you, like furniture and people. When your parents throw elaborate parties or host networking events, your father will suggest you stay up in your room or your study (to avoid any blunders as a result of not seeing the millionaire standing right beside you). While you know there is good meaning behind it, it feels isolating, even a little patronizing at times.

Even if the darkness of the hallway renders you completely blind, you've walked down it enough times you do not worry about tripping. Hand on the railing, you make your way down the stairs, and the light of the estate grows brighter with each step you take down. Before you fully descend, you let your eyes scan the room to try and make a mental map of where everyone is to avoid bumping into anyone on your way.

You barely make it to the ground before you feel a familiar presence and smell a familiar blend of cologne and champagne on your right. You're glad you can't see out of the corner of your eyes because you know exactly what face your father is making right now. You know he's not happy to see you downstairs before he even speaks.

"I thought you were working on your manuscript?" he asks, the accusatory tone in his voice on the more subtle side.

You shrug. "I wanted something to eat."

"Colleen was supposed to bring you your food," your father retorts.

"If she did, I wouldn't have come downstairs, would I?"

Your father scoffs. "Look, just go back upstairs, and I'll talk to Colleen."

A second voice chimes in, softer and sweeter. Your mother. "Oh, sweetie!" Her face comes into view, and she seems happy to see you. "Are you done your manuscript already?"

"Colleen didn't bring him his food, apparently," your father says.

Your mom turns her head in the direction of your father's voice. "Dear, Colleen left early, remember? Wasn't feeling well? She said Adelaide was supposed to bring him his food." "That's a lie, I haven't seen Adelaide at all tonight!"

You raise a hand. "Or, or, I'm an adult who knows where the kitchen is and can get my own serving?"

Your mother cups your face in her hands. "No no, we'll get you something, unless you're here to socialize as well? I was just talking to this woman, she has a daughter about your age-"

"I'm just going to get my food," you quickly cut in, "maybe I'll play matchmaker next time, but I just want something to eat and then I'll get back to work."

"Let the staff get it," your father tells you.

You pull away from your mother and turn to glare at your father. "It's fine. I can get it myself."

You step around your parents but feel your mom clasp your arm. "You father just-"

"Doesn't want me bumping into people, I know, and I won't."

You take two steps before your left side slams right into a passing partygoer. You stumble and hit the ground, while whoever you bumped into manages to maintain their footing. Glass breaks, and when you hit the ground you feel wetness soaking the back of your shirt and the front as well. You hear your mother gasp, and the room goes silent. Even the band has paused their playing, and you can feel the eyes of the room on you.

"What is wrong with you?"

While the man's voice is melodic, it only serves to make your face burn hotter with embarrassment. This is why your dad doesn't invite you to join them at parties, you remind yourself. When you do not immediately answer the question, opting to instead push yourself up, the man continues to chastise you.

"Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? How much it's going to cost to have it properly cleaned?"

You roll over so you're sitting up. Red stains your shirt. "Sorry, I-I didn't see you there."

"Clearly! How painfully unobservant do you have to be to not see me coming through? I was right next to you!"

You drag your gaze up the man's body, as he takes up the entirety of your eyesight. Everything he wears looks designer, and as you take in his shoes, his dress pants, you make it to his suit jacket and shirt. He's wearing black with hints of indigos and dark blues, but the wine stain is still very visible on his chest. Your eyes continue, and you see a snarling, but handsome, but still very angry face. You don't recognize him from the long black hair, the glasses with the bedazzled chain, or the shine of his eyes. You recognize him from the pin on his lapel. At this distance you recognize the Fatui symbol, and your face blanches.

You just ran into a Harbinger.

You hear the footsteps of your father approach. "M-Mister Regrator, I am so, so sorry for my son's actions, I-I'm sure that's a very expensive suit and I am deeply sorry."

The Regrator does not take his eyes off of you. "Yes. Very expensive. Expensive even for you."

"I-I swear, I'm sorry," you stammer, "I didn't see you, I really didn't see you there, I-I-"

You feel your father pull you up by the arm. "I already told you to go upstairs."

Pantalone watches as your father drags you away. You only protest a little before accepting defeat as you are pulled up the stairs. He feels the scowl on his face worsen when your mother approaches with the most desperate and pitiful expression he thinks he's ever seen a woman of her standing wear.

"Are you alright, my lord?" she asks timidly.

Pantalone takes a step back as a maid comes over to clean up the broken glass. "I'm fine, thank you."

"I am so sorry about that, if you'd like, w-we can have our staff clean your suit for you."

"This material is incredibly expensive and difficult to thoroughly wash," Pantalone states, "I highly doubt your staff would know how to clean it."

The woman looks down, embarrassed. "A-Ah, I see..." She looks back up at him, her expression somehow more pitiful than before. "Please, forgive my son, it was an accident, truly. H-He didn't see you there."

"Oh, I know," Pantalone replies, grinning harshly at the woman, "I'm just surprised at how unobservant someone can be, it's almost impressive."

The woman bites her lip, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Still, she clears her throat, though she does not meet the Regrator's eyes. "M-My son is going blind."

Somehow the room goes quieter.

Pantalone stares at the woman as the words echo in his mind. He blinks, and his expression dulls a little. "Your son is what?"

"Going blind." She lifts her head up a little bit. "It's a genetic condition, m-my father had it as well. He's been losing his eyesight little by little ever since he was a boy. The doctor at his last appointment s-said he's lost most if not all peripheral vision now."

Pantalone can feel the wine begin to soak through to his shirt now. His eyes scan the room, and the guests are clearly pretending they're not listening to the conversation. He turns to the woman, his voice displeased but noticeably softer. "So the, ah, 'unobservant' assumption..."

"He truly did not see you," the woman reiterates, "I-I can't speak for him, of course, but if he's anything like how my father was at his age, he cannot see anything unless it is directly in front of him."

Pantalone clicks his tongue. "Is that so?"

The woman nods. Silence fills the room for a few moments, and then Pantalone sighs.

"In any case, I have to leave," he says, "I do not have a change of clothes, and I really should have this cleaned as soon as possible."

"A-Apologies again, Lord Pantalone..."

Your mother watches Pantalone as he leaves, praying to any Archon who will hear her plea that perhaps the Regrator will take pity on you on account of your condition. She also mentally curses your father for even inviting the man over. Sure, things have been getting a little shaky financially for your family, but getting buddy-buddy with a Harbinger can't be worth it, can it? They're an unsavoury lot she doesn't want around, especially around you.

Your father is already in a foul mood when he comes back downstairs, having lectured you for literally blindly running into Pantalone. The two had plans to work together, after all, so that spectacle could have completely cost the family any chance at maintaining the dwindling fortune. He becomes more upset with your mother when he finds the Regrator has left already, sparking an argument that finally kills the party, leaving the guests to awkwardly mingle before finally leaving hours before the party is set to end.

Your father does not talk to you for a few days. Your mother offers smiles and reassurance that everything will be fine, but the spats echoing down the hall lead you to believe otherwise. You attempt to tune out the building stress in your household and focus on your work, but it's in vain. In the quiet moments between replacing the paper in the typewriter, or when you cannot figure out how a scene is meant to play out, you briefly picture the Regrator's face and feel your face burn up again. Is it anger? Embarrassment? A little bit of attraction? Yes, probably.

The tension in the house reaches a boiling point when a letter sealed with the Regrator's insignia is delivered to the estate.

"You're paying for the suit, boy," your father snaps, figure barely visible as he paces the drawing room lit only by the fireplace.

"W-We don't know if that's what the letter is," your mother remarks, "and he doesn't have enough to cover for it."

"That's the worst part! We would have to cover the majority of it!"

"Can you just open the fucking envelope?!" you finally snap.

Your father advances towards you from the darkness, suddenly right in front of you. "Don't you speak to me like that when this is your fault!"

Both of you flinch when your mother all but rips the envelope from your father's hands. She steps just out of your line of vision, and you hear the ripping sound of the envelope. After a few moments, she lets out a loud sigh of relief.

"He's apologizing and forgiving us for the misunderstanding," your mother says, "though he, ah, he does want us to split the cleaning costs..." You hear the flutter of paper, and she absentmindedly steps forward as she reads the letter. "Oh, j-just for the shirt. That is... oof, that's still a little much..."

You sigh. "I should have enough money saved. Might have to put off moving out for a little longer, though."

"Oh, don't be so down!" your mother awkwardly laughs. "We don't mind having you here a little longer. It gives me peace of mind knowing you're safe! And there are o better doctors out there than in Snezhnaya!"

Your dad has disappeared out of view, but you can still feel his stare. You don't think he's as thrilled as your mother is, but it's better than him paying the full cost of Pantalone's dry cleaning. You wonder if there's anything in the letter stating if he'll still work with your father, and if that means you'll have to see him again before you eventually move. You hope you never see him out of sheer embarrassment, but a part of you wants to. It would be nice to remember a more cheery expression on his handsome face before the day your central vision finally leaves you.

[peachyloveswriting]

ok but how about something a little wholesome and a dash of silly where reader is like literal golden retriever energy with the cod boys? like, they could be gone for 1 day and they come back and reader is like "oh my god i missed you 🥹"

GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY --- Cod boys

SUMMARY: The COD boys with a clingy s/o :)just a bunch of fluff and cuddles that's all.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

PRICE

You and your husband Price don't always get to have missions together so when he's required to leave for a day or two you know there are dangers involved once he's out there. The whole time you worry for his well being and physical health and stress your own in the process. It's hard knowing he's out there and you can't be there to help. Thankfully he has his team to protect him and finish the job nicely but once he comes back it's suddenly like your a different person.

Laying in your bunk with a book in hands your eyes skimmed the page. The words were flowing through your mind like a trickling stream, not exactly sticking or registering in reality for that moment in time. The words were being read actively as you looked at them but no matter what Price just wasn't leaving your head.

The door to the room opens, Price huffing, he tosses his bag down beside the door and kicks it shut behind him. Just the smell of his room being around him again fills him with a warm feeling. Something he associates with you. A bright smile on your face as you leap onto his arms with a laugh and squeeze him into a tight hug. Your body against his is a living sense that proves he made it home in one piece. You hold him down. But for some reason you're not in his arms yet.

Looking at where you lay on the bed he furrows his brows and picks his boots off to walk over. "Love?" He coos. In your head it's almost like he just walked in, Ghost said they weren't going to be back for another three days and that was only yesterday. At this point you must've been losing it.

Not seeing you acknowledge his presence, Price frowned. Normally you would have engulfed him in a hug by now. Something must be terribly wrong for you to have not moved yet. He speaks out again, this time with caution on his voice. "Love? Is something wrong?"

Finally turning to look at the door your heart slams against your chest. Something in your stomach flips and suddenly your tossing the book halfway across the room and jumping to your feet just to leap from the bed into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his torso and head tucked away in the crook of his neck. "You're home!" You squeak with a bright smile. He laughs heartily, warmth spreading in his chest as he catches you against him his his hands under your thighs. "Yes, I'm home love."

GHOST

"I only have to get a few things. Staying in the truck?" He asked before he took the keys from the ignition. You nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay."

Nodding curtly he left the truck running and pushed open the door. Sliding down from the seat and turning around he raised his brows. "I'll be right back." With that he promptly closed the door and you watched him walk away inside the store. He was coming to pick up a few drinks and some teabags for back home. One of his few times off work.

You started talking to him romantically a few months back, first thing he told you was what he did for a living. You knew then that it would be difficult to form a relationship with him because of how often he's gone. As time's moved on though, he's taken you out on six dates and on every single on of them he had just returned home. This would make seven. He was taking you back to his house for dinner and drinks. You're more than happy to be here sitting in his truck happily waiting for his eventual return. You'll have to give it to him, he's very dedicated.

Never once during that time that he was away did he not call you at least once to see how your day was. Most men don't do that unless you tell them too maybe that's why you like this one so much. Come to think of it, anytime he's not away he's with you spending money on you and taking you on dates. True dedication. At this point the other men you were interested men were blocked and dropped the moment you started talking to him.

Jogging across the lot with his hood covering his head, Simon grabbed the door handle and snatched it open to jump and climb in. Spooked, you lumped and shouted. Shutting the door he looked at you with furrowed brows. The moment you realized it was just him you started to laugh to yourself.

"I scare you?" He asks as he leans over with a smirk and puts the bags in the floorboard at your feet. Nodding, you grab hold of his arm and press your face into his bicep. "Don't do that again." You said. He chuckles, a hand coming up to pat your head. "I will."

Sitting back up with a satisfied smile on your face, you speak. "Good- wait."

SOAP

You're first night at the safehouse and Soap and Ghost had already left you alone with the rest of 141, left to talk to Price. Gaz and Alejandro weren't bad company, no, not at all. But after a long, grueling, and ongoing mission this would be your first nights laying in an actual in weeks. Sadly it seemed like your boyfriend, John, wouldn't be able to join you. It was already sundown, the sun set hours ago and your aching body was calling you to bed.

After saying goodnight to the team that stayed behind, you trudged your way to the bedroom you claimed the moment you saw it and secluded yourself to the comfortable mattress. You wouldn't dare lay down though, knowing that if you did you might miss John coming back. Till then you'd be stuck by yourself in a cold bed without someone to talk you to sleep.

The house was dead silent when Ghost and Soap returned, both of they're sore and tired bodies cried out for sleep. The sleep settled in Soap's bones as he made his way back towards the rooms. "Goin' to bed already Johnny?" Ghost queried.

"That's right L.T." He hums as he slowly walks away. Ghost watches him with blank eyes before he sighs and walks into the livingroom by himself. John felt bad for leaving Ghost in there all by himself but the bed was calling him home and so were you. Making his way to the door he pushes it open to find you sitting at the end of the bed with your elbows resting on your knees.

Hearing the door open your head perks up, the moment you see him close the door a bright smile spreads across your face. "Thought you weren't gonna make it." You observed as you turned and crawled your way over the bed to where he stood. Taking his vest off he drops it to the floor, when he looks back down at you your waddling your way across the mattress. Soon enough your arms are wrapped around his waist and your head is pressed into his stomach.

"It's nice to see you again baby." He hums, his hands gently rub the back of your head. His heart beats rapidly in his chest while his stomach does flips at the sight of you. "Stop leaving me." You whine. Smiling at your words he chuckles softly. Warmth spreads across his chest at your words, it takes all of him not to baby you right here.

"Let me get comfy first love, cuddles in just a second." He says. Letting go of him with a frown you plop back onto the mattress and watch him take off the rest of his gear. His shoes are the last to go, the moment their off he tackling you into the bed pulling you close to him with a tired smile.

It couldn't get my h better than this.

KÖNIG

König was supposed to be coming back on leave today, at least that's what he told you the last like he called. He was telling you he had one last thing before he could come home. It wouldn't be much longer but you spent all night cleaning the house and running around. Your feet are buzzing with excitement even after twelve hours of cleaning. Though your back and arms are sore you continue to find ways to distract yourself from waiting.

At the moment you were in the garage cleaning out your car. You're leaned over in the back seat with all the doors open so the music from the radio can play loud enough for you to feel comfortable and in a good mood. The music was so loud though that the sound of the front door opening and closing went unheard.

König could clearly hear the music playing from the garage. That was his first clue that you were distracting yourself. In a way it brought a smile to his face, knowing that this time it was only a few walls between you. Happy to be home he dropped his bag on the couch and strode towards the garage door.

Standing up to set your bag of trash to the side you spot a large shadow standing off to the side. Startled, you jolt and spin to look at what you saw. It took a moment to register that it was only König but once you knew, you screamed.

Your heart leapt out your chest as you bolted to him and engulfed him in a tight hug. All the while you feet danced beneath you, happy to have him home. "König!" You cheer. Hearing you call his name with such excitement fills his chest with warmth. He can't help the bright smile that tugs at his lips as he looks down at you in his arms, your face pressed into his chest. He wouldn't trade this for the world.