#i was turning this into a whole fic and had like 1.3k words and wasn’t even close to done and i was like. what am i doing. this is crazy.

[skzdust]

Can I Touch?

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

Merry Christmas, everyone. This is my smutty present to all of you and to Bee especially lol.

This fic was a request from @kpop---scenarios (here) and a part of my 500 followers celebration!! Big thanks for requesting bestie and I hope you love it <3 The prompt was #23, caught in the act, with Lee Know, NSFW!

Summary: Minho is horny at a party, and now it's your problem... and, when you sneak into Hyunjin's room, it becomes his problem, too.

Pairing: Lee Know x Hyunjin x fem!reader

Includes: fucking at a party, an unexpected visitor, nipple play, unprotected sex, kissing

Word count: 1.3k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

Minho leaned in by your ear. “C’mon, baby, just come with me for a second?”

You laughed softly. “Everyone’s here, Minho, they’ll notice if we’re gone.”

“No, they won’t.” His breath tickled your ear. “No one will know. It’ll just be you and me.”

You swallowed. You couldn’t deny that it sounded appealing. Minho had spent the whole evening working you up— his hands grazing your thigh, or lingering a bit too long on your waist. His eyes roaming your chest, your whole body. You wanted him, and it was clear he wanted you. “Minho… I don’t know.”

“But I need you, baby.” He murmured. “Need you bad.”

You sucked a breath in through your teeth. “You need me so bad you can’t wait till we get home?”

“Exactly.” He nipped at your earlobe, and you were glad the girl you’d been talking to had wandered off a minute ago, leaving no one to pay attention to Minho’s blatant attempts to turn you on.

“Okay.” You whispered. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but… yes.”

“Sounds good.” He pressed a kiss to your neck. “Let’s go find a bedroom.”

Your stomach leapt as Minho led you by the hand up the stairs. “Min, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah… I know which one is Hyunjin’s. He won’t care.”

You laughed. “You mean he won’t care if we fuck on his bed?”

“Exactly.” Minho smiled, pushing open a door. “Come on in.”

You followed him into the room, and he shut the door before pressing you against it and all but growling in your ear. “Baby… you look so good in that little fucking dress. Trying to tease me all night.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you.” You said, but you were breathless already as Minho’s hand found its way up your skirt to play with your underwear.

“Sure.” He ran his fingers over your pussy, prompting a whine. You were so sensitive to his touch, especially when you were already horny.

“Okay, so, maybe a little bit.” You admitted.

“Just what I thought, baby.” He kissed you, long, searing on your lips. You could barely breathe as he invaded your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours. His hand was still playing with you, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Oh, you like that?” He rubbed at your pussy harder through your underwear, the fabric rough against you.

“Yes, Minho.” You exhaled.

“Get on the bed.”

You wiggled your underwear off, throwing them somewhere on the floor, and landed on your back on the bed.

Minho crawled on top of you, and as you looked down you could see the bulge in his pants. “You want it, baby? You want it inside you?”

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Want it deep inside me, Minho. We gotta be fast.”

He laughed as he leaned down to kiss you again, hard, demanding. He broke away and sat back to pull off his pants and boxers.

He was already hard, but he stroked himself a few times as he lined himself up with your hole. “Just know you’re gonna be so good around me.”

You just whined, angling your hips up.

Minho rubbed his tip around a little bit, getting it wet with your slick, and began to push inside. He was about halfway in when the door hinges squeaked.

You both froze, whipping towards the door.

Hyunjin stood there, his eyebrows raised. “Well, I didn’t expect you guys to be in here.”

Minho began to pull out.

“No, no, don’t stop.” Hyunjin closed the door, leaning against it, watching the two of you. “Go on. If you’re borrowing my room, you at least should give me a show.”

You nodded, looking at Minho. “We should, shouldn’t we?”

He smirked. “We should.” He pushed back inside with one big thrust that made your eyes roll back and pulled a long moan from your throat.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin said softly.

“She’s so pretty when she’s getting fucked, isn’t she?” Minho’s voice was fond, tender. “I’ve always thought so.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Hyunjin groaned. “She’s fucking hot is what she is.”

“My girl, Hyunjin.” Minho reminded him with a smirk.

“You’re giving me a show. Aren’t I supposed to be watching?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t watch.” Minho fucked into you again, and your moan was broken. “Just don’t try to touch.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Good.” Minho’s hands wrapped around your waist, and he began to fuck you in earnest, his speed picking up. All you could do was grab at his hands and moan, your hips bucking up to meet his.

“Can’t I just touch a little?” Hyunjin’s voice was playful. “Those tits look so nice in that dress.”

Minho stopped moving, looking at you. “Y/n, how do you feel about Hyunjin touching you?”

“Yes.” You said, wriggling in an effort to get Minho to start up again. “Yes, Hyunjin, please touch me.”

Minho smirked again. “Play with her nipples.”

Hyunjin sat behind you, moving your head into his lap, as he leaned over to push the strapless top of your dress down.

“Fuck.” You moaned, your whole body arching off the bed as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers and Minho began to thrust into you again.

“Pretty girl.” He said, his voice a warm contrast to the rough treatment he was giving your tits.

“Sharing might not be so bad, look at how sensitive and twitchy she is.” Minho’s voice was arrogant. You couldn’t see him at this point, your eyes were squeezed shut at all of the sensations washing over you.

“So much.” You breathed.

“Is it too much, baby?” Minho’s voice softened.

“No!” You said quickly. “No, keep going, please, both of you.”

Hyunjin pinched your nipples at the same time, and you let out a little cry. Minho drilled into your hole harder, pushing the air out of you with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm fast approaching.

As you hit the peak of your pleasure, Hyunjin’s ministrations slowed. “No, no, keep going!” You managed to get out through your moans.

“Okay.” He whispered, pinching you even harder. You practically screamed, arching off the bed as they continued to work your body.

You collapsed back down, but neither of them stopped. You felt overstimulated, every sensation so strong and intense, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to be a good girl and get Minho off. You laid there and let it all wash over you.

And soon enough he did cum, deep inside you, with a long groan. Hyunjin’s hands only slowed as Minho pulled out, cum spilling onto Hyunjin’s sheets.

“Ah, sorry.” Minho laughed, looking down.

“It’s okay, I can wash them.” Hyunjin smiled. “Thank you for letting me join, both of you.”

“You’re welcome to share me again, if you like.” You offered, pushing yourself up. You knew you looked thoroughly debauched, your hair messy, your makeup surely running, your top pushed down and your skirt pushed up.

“Fuck, you’re a vision, y/n.” Hyunjin breathed, and you looked down to see how hard he was.

“If… if Minho’s okay with it, you can use me, if you want.” You said.

Minho nodded. “As long as you make her feel good, too.”

Hyunjin swallowed, his eyes raking over you. “I want to make her feel so good.”

You whined.

“Then be my guest.” Minho moved from between your legs, and Hyunjin took his spot. Minho began to stroke your hair, kissing down your neck, as Hyunjin lined himself up.

 You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Failing

Summary: Joel made many mistakes. The biggest was leaving you.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, a lot of inner thoughts, panic attacks, Joel and Ellie do not talk, Joel is a mess, lots of talk about being a failure and not good enough, messy breakup, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This has been going through my mind since I saw the new pic yesterday. This is really different from everything I write usually, so let me know what you think. And yeah, come yell at me in my inbox

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

part one of invisible string

He knew he should have stayed home tonight.

He could have worked on… something. He could have talked himself into picking up his guitar and pretend everything was okay.

He could pretend that he wasn’t a failure.

He could pretend Ellie was still talking to him.

Instead he was here, the people around him celebrating god knows what, music playing, people dancing and he?

He was hoping to at least get a look at the girl that had become like a daughter to him. The daughter he lost because he lied to her.

Turned out his mother was right, lying was not getting him anywhere. 

He hadn’t talked to her in weeks, not getting more than a fleeting look at her from afar like a creepy stalker.

Tommy was right, he needed to give her time.

But somehow he felt like time was running out. 

Tommy had been right in a lot of things lately. Something Joel was not used to, still having the irresponsible young man in the back of his mind he had been before outbreak.

But Tommy wasn’t that man anymore.

He was a husband, a father, a respected leader of the little community he had helped build.

And Joel was…. He did not feel like he changed much. He was still angry all the time.

Angry at the world.

Angry at the people.

But most of all angry at himself.

The way he was feeling now? Alone and lonely?

He had no one but himself to blame for it.

It was moments like these that you came to his mind.

You would know what to do. You would know how to fix this mess that he got himself into. You always did. Until he had pushed you away for good, almost six years ago when he got even more involved in the underground in the Boston QZ.

Meeting and falling in love with you had been the only good thing that had happened to him since the outbreak. You had seen him, the real him.

The broken man that was desperate for… something.

That something seemed to be you.

But like every good that happened to him, he managed to fuck this up too. Not at first, but definitely in the end. 

And he tried. He tried to become a better person. Tried to become the man you deserved, not listening to you when you told him that he did not have to become a better person.

That you fell for him the way he was. With all flaws he thought he had.

But maybe if he had worked on himself he wouldn’t have reacted so poorly when you told him that you were pregnant.

Maybe he wouldn’t have blamed you and you only, taking the easy way out and telling you he would not go through this again.

He should have talked to you, instead of lashing out, should have told you how fucking scared he was about losing another child. About losing you. About raising a child in this fucked up world. About fucking up.

He did so anyway.

He chose to forget about the whole conversation the two of you had after you told him that you were pregnant and that you were intending to keep it from his mind. Or he tried. God, did he try.

But now, deep in the night, when he was laying awake and alone in bed, only the shadows of the night in his company, the words he spat to hurt you creeped back into his mind, not that they had ever been gone.

I don’t love you.

Get rid of it.

Get out of my life.

I never loved you anyway. 

He could still see the way your face crumbled, tears running down your cheeks. 

He broke you that night. And he broke himself. 

He thought about this last argument, this breakup a lot if he was honest with himself.

He never told you, not in words, how much he loved you. He took you for granted. He shouldn’t have been this surprised to learn that you had left the QZ days after he broke you. 

Not a day went by that he wondered what happened to you.

If you were alive.

If you kept the baby.

Would it have your eyes and his hair?

A boy or a girl?

Where they as stubborn as Sarah was?

Did you still love him as much as he still loved you?

Shaking his head he took a sip from the surprisingly good beer someone had offered him when he came here, his eyes wandering through the room, sneaking glances at Ellie who smiled at Dina, deep in conversation with the other girl.

Sucking his bottom lip in, his hand flexing on his side as he tried to find the courage to walk over to Ellie and ask her if they could talk, again, when he heard laughter behind him.

Laughter he heard before, a long time ago.

A laugh he heard in his dreams when his mind allowed him to dream about you instead of the nightmares that plagued him. 

Narrowing his eyes he tried to remember why he was hearing that laugh, why that voice that spoke in low tones now, made his heart flutter, when he saw Tommy walk towards him in a fast pace, his face worried.

“Joel,” he said but Joel wasn’t listening to him.

He was busy preparing for a breakdown that was creeping slowly into his body. 

Joel’s heart seemed to make the connection before his brain did, heart beating widely in his chest as he slowly turned around, his brother’s hand on his shoulder to keep him for turning. He shrugged it off with a grunt, bracing himself to be let down, that he was finally turning insane and imagining you when his eyes landed on you.

Blinking his eyes in disbelief he released a shaky breath when you were still there. 

You were sitting at one of the picnic tables, still as beautiful as he remembered a small smile on your face. A man had his arm wrapped around your back and in your lap sat a girl not older than five who had your eyes and his brown curls.

His heart stopped, he was sure of it.

“She got in yesterday. You were on patrol, I was trying to find you and tell you but….” Joel heard his brother say, but he ignored him.

You were here.

You were here.

And you were alive.

And you had a girl sitting in your lap that was….

His eyes widened when you leaned back and he saw a little boy sitting in the lap of the man next to you that looked like a mini copy of Joel himself.

His chest felt heavy.

Closing his eyes he tried to take deep breaths, but he just couldn’t.

This was too much.

This hurt too much.

This was the happiest he ever was.

“Joel?” he heard his name from his side, Ellie looking down at him worriedly as he pressed his hand against his chest, his eyes watering.

This was the first time she had talked to him in weeks and it might as well be the last time from the way he felt right now.

He was having a panic attack.

But it felt so much worse than it had ever before.

Looking away from Ellie he turned his head back towards you, finding you now looking at him with wide eyes.

“Deep breaths brother,” a strong arm came to pull him up and his frantic eyes found Tommy’s.

“In and out,” he said, trying to calm down his brother. Joel’s hands grabbed his brothers shoulders. Trying to mimic the way he was breathing but couldn’t.

“Joel?” he heard your voice, his head now turning towards you, finding you looking at him worriedly.

Joel shook his head, dark spots at the corner of his eyes.

“You’re here,” was the last thing he whispered before he passed out.

[tonyboneysblog]

Hey!! I saw your touya fic and OMGG its so cute 😭 could you write more about being childhood friends with touya? I also couldn’t check your request rules page, it said post not found so sorry if this goes against any of your rules!!

broken arm one shot!

parings: Touya Todoroki x reader

wordcount: 1.3k

notes: I was actually so excited to make this request- ANNON I COULD KISS YOU.

warnings: none!

summary: you got a broke arm everyone wants to sign! but Touya just wants his doodles on it.

At this point in your life, you felt as if you’d experienced all the pain you ever could.

until you older brother decided to push you off your trampoline.

And yeah- maybe your body also decided to fall in a way that broke your arm- but it’s all your brother’s fault!

your mom told him not to be rough, and he was.

he got grounded for as long as you had to be in a cast.

Now the cast specifically could’ve been your favorite part of the whole ordeal- you got to pick out the color.

you chose your favorite of course.

Your mother even drove you to your favorite food place! Maybe this will repay the incoming trauma you’ll have of trampolines.

The first person to sign your cast was your older brother, it’s just said “sorry sis.” and you weren’t in the mood to accept the apology so you scratched it out with the black sharpie your mom lended you.

The second person who signed your cast was the first one you saw when you walked into school.

school kids love singing casts, even if they didn’t know the person.

and you in-fact, did not know half the people who signed your cast.

Then when you finally made your way to your first class with a grin, you got to see your best friend’s reaction.

Touya Todoroki.

You watch his face twist into absolute horror and your smile falters slightly.

Touya taps his fingers against the wooden desk quickly whilst stumbling over his words, “W-what.. how?!”

“Elder bro broke my arm, no biggie.” You shrug- grin returning.

Touya’s mouth stays in an “o” shape as you talk, you really didn’t expect him to be so…upset?

it was only a broken arm.

You sit next to him, he tenses slightly like he always does.

“No biggie? Your arm is broken?!” He says breathlessly.

“psh-it’s barely broken!”

It’s snapped like a fragile stick when your brother pushed you.

Touya smacks his face into his palms with an annoyed groan.

You giggle loudly at Touya’s distress, truly it’s just a broken arm- no biggie.

Touya rises from his hands, looking down at the cast that’s almost filled to the brim with names.

“Where’s the pen?” He questions quietly.

You hum softly after handing the share to him, thought there’s not really enough room for Touya to write anything.

Touya grabs your forearm gently, turning it slowly trying to find the perfect spot to write something.

but there wasn’t enough room.

Touya puffs his cheeks slightly as his brows furrows, “I can’t write anything.”

You remove you arm from Touya’s grasp, seeing if you could find a spot yourself yet you were still unable to.

You sigh softly, “Sorry Touya…”

Touya crossed his arms and huffs, “it’s fine.”

“You can write your name of the next one?”

Touya pokes your bicep, “you’re not breaking your arm again.”

You in turn flick Touya forehead, “I’m not planning on it- the doctor said we’ll have to change it out at some point.”

Touya rubs the spot you flicked softly, his face stuck in a scowl.

“Don’t let anyone write on it before I do then.”

You snicker softly, reaching into your bag with your free hand to grab all of your school supplies.

“Fine-“ you mumble, “I promise, Touya.”

For a moment, you swear you could see Touya’s ears maybe go a little pink.

Could be the pain medicine though…

About a week after that conversation, your cast was requested to be replaced.

It got severely itchy and it felt soft in places- not supposed to be like that.

So your mom called to get it replaced.

The day the did actually get a new cast was on Saturday, a day where you usually don’t see Touya because he’s too concerned with his training.

One time he told you not to even bother calling because he won’t be around to answer the phone.

But you had a promise to fulfill! You don’t care Touya’s training.

Training does him no good anyways, just gives him new burns.

Your hand shakes slightly as you ring the Todorokis home phone.

Of course it rings, and rings…and rings some more.

Maybe you should’ve listened to Touya? Well he has like twenty siblings so at least one of them would answer.

except for baby shoto of course.

But, Mrs. Todoroki comes in clutch anyways! Answering the phone with her soft, sing song voice.

“Hello, This is Rei Todoroki.” She says quietly, almost like a whisper.

Your voice wavers as you speak, “u-uhm is Touya there, perchance?”

Rei stays quiet for a moment until finally speaking again, “he’s home, why?”

“Oh- this is Y/N! I-I wanted him to sign my cast.”

Rei hums, it sounds…excited! Rei must be excited it’s little old you!

“Ah I see, I’ll tell him you’re on your way.” You can practically hear the smile in her voice.

You out on your shoes as fast as you can, which isn’t fast because you only have one working hand.

Then you bike hour way down towards the Todorokis house.

It was a sixteen minute bike but it would be worth it, you’ll keep your promise to Touya no matter what.

And when you finally arrive you knock on the door to see the second oldest, Fuyumi.

You can see the surprise in her eyes when she opens the door to you, “Y/N!- wait I thought you didn’t come on Saturdays?”

You shrug your shoulders and scoot your way through the door.

You hear your feet pat the ground softly as your quickly make your way through the house, looking for that soft tuft of white hair.

Only to find it sitting down in his room.

You wave your hand, “surprise!”

Touya stares at you for a moment before speaking, “mom already told me you were coming.”

“Just pretend.” You groan softly, your small little jazz hands deflating.

Touya drums his fingers softly onto his desk, “why are you here again?”

You pout softly, “Why’re you so mean? I can make Natsuo sign my cast first yknow..”

Touya’s eyebrows raise slightly, “cast?”

“I got a new cast”

Touya extends his hand, reaching for your forearm before you pull away.

“Your design better be so fricking awesome.” Your brows furrowed.

There’s no way you waited a week just to see Touya draw some stupid sun with sunglasses.

“Sit down then.” Touya says sternly.

You sit down onto the soft pillow near the table, waiting patiently for Touya to join.

Touya joins you shortly after, grabbing your forearm and placing the sharpie onto it.

At first he draws a small cat, seems to be just a practice because he continues to draw on your cast.

You can see his tongue poke through his lips in concentration.

When you first hopped on your bike you expected to be at the Todorokis for maybe five minutes at most.

Touyas quite serious about training.

But here you are an hour later, letting Touya draw and doodle all over your cast.

And when he’s done, it covers the entire cast.

How are you supposed to let the cool kids sign your fast now?!

You see Touya puff out his chest slightly, a proud look on his face.

“You like it?” You voice slightly monotone but his face brimming with joy.

Your original cast had all of the popular kids names on it, even the high schools who hung around the school signed it.

It was like a losers trophy- proof that kids actually liked you!

In your heart it’s worth millions of dollars.

Yet, when you look down at Touya simple little doodles.

You can’t help but feel your heart swell.

The original may be worth millions- but Touya’s…

His was priceless in your eyes.

You smile, “It’s perfect, Touya.”

[temilyrights]

revelation

Summary:  Emily Prentiss x GN!Reader. Spencer helps you come to the realisation that maybe you've been looking in the wrong place for happy ever after all this time, and the person of your dreams is right in front of your eyes.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: References to drinking alcohol, slight sexuality panic.

A/N: hi it's been a year and a half since i posted anything but i read a half finished fic and suddenly got inspiration?! anyway i've missed you all and i hope you enjoy <3 (my one emily gif because i've lost all my gifs :D i want to cry!!)

How were you meant to know? Sure, you’d watched the movies and heard the songs just like everyone else, but no one had explained to you what it felt like. 

Plus, it wasn’t as if the movies were great demonstrations. They were always so dramatic, with tears and rain and running through airports. 

Spencer was the one, out of everyone, to point it out in the end. 

The whole team was gathered in JJ’s garden, a family event to mark the beginning of summer. Will and Hotch were grilling food on the BBQ, while JJ handed out alcohol that Rossi consumed generously, the kids were playing on Henry’s swing set, and Penelope, Derek, and Emily all spoke boisterously, their voices and laughter filling the garden. 

You stood to the side with Spencer, watching in bemusement. You had no idea what they were saying as they shouted excitedly at each other, but Emily was grinning, her cheeks flushed, and looking more carefree than you had seen her in a long time.  She was wearing a gorgeous blue vest top and jeans. You loved the top on her, it made her glow, complementing her skin and hair in a way that you couldn’t put accurately into words.  

Your heart stuttered, something that had been happening with increasing frequency recently, but you hadn’t given it much thought.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer said abruptly as his fingers drummed against the side of the cider bottle in his hand. 

You turned slightly to look at him, your brows furrowed at his thoughtful expression. You nodded, “Of course.” 

“Why—" He hesitates. You smile reassuringly at him and he takes a breath before continuing, “It’s not really my business, but I’ve watched the two of you and I guess I'm just confused as to why you’re not dating.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise but he continues. 

“I thought maybe you two were just keeping it a secret from the team, but it’s been years and neither of you have said anything, plus Emily gets this sad look in her eyes sometimes and I think if you were together she wouldn’t, and—”

“Me and Emily?” You stammer, “Why would you think…Emily and I-” 

Spencer’s brows shoot up. 

“She’s one of my closest friends. I don’t…I’m not…”

Your heart beat speeds up and you tug on the collar of your shirt to cool yourself down. 

You didn’t understand, Emily was your best friend. You knew she was a lesbian but you weren’t. You liked men. 

“But you don’t look at the rest of us the way you look at Emily.” Spencer says softly. “You look at her like she’s the sun. Like the world turns because of her.” 

You shake your head. 

No. 

“You love her.” 

No. No. No.

You didn’t. You’d know if you were in love, and okay, so maybe you’d never been in love before but loving a woman had never once crossed your mind. It’s not like you were against it, you'd just never thought about it. Why would you? You dated men. 

…you dated men and felt very little. Your relationships have always been short, and when the men would finally leave you’d feel nothing but relief as if the relationships were draining the happiness out of you. 

But you’d know if you’d like women, surely? Sure, Emily made your heart clench and your stomach swirl. Sure, every time you saw her you’d smile wider and maybe you thought about her often but that’s what friendship was, right? 

You gulp.

Spencer and Penelope were also your close friends, and you did think of them often and enjoy their company but it was different. 

You’d set Penelope up on a date with your friend just like week, but last month there’d been a detective flirting with Emily and you’d been in a terrible mood the entire time. The team had smirked and you hadn’t understood, only thought how unprofessional the detective was being and oh, oh. 

oh.

You loved her.

You didn’t know. 

You really didn’t know. 

No one had told you that this is what it felt like. You hadn’t known. 

A hand on your arm jolts you, and brings Emily’s concerned face into focus. “Hey, are you okay?” She asks, brows drawn together.

A couple of tears had made their way down your cheeks without your permission. Embarrassment burns through you and all that comes out of your mouth is an urgent, “I didn’t know.”

Her frown only depends, rightfully confused, and you don’t know what to say. Too many thoughts rushing through your brain all at once. 

Spencer and Derek stand together a few steps away, whispering hurriedly to each other. You catch your name and Spencer’s worried, “I didn’t think this would be the reaction.” Emily is only focused on you, and doesn’t seem to notice their conversation. 

“What do you need?” She asks, hand still touching your arm and it’s all too much. 

You shake your head, stepping away from the hand that burns your skin. “I just need a minute.” You say, already walking away and into the house where the world is a little bit quieter and there are no watchful eyes. 

You wipe away the tears and take deep steadying breaths as your heart beat slows down. 

You find a glass and fill it with water with shaky hands. You had no idea what happened to your cider. 

You lift the glass to your lips and take a couple of sips, feeling yourself steady even more as you focus on simple actions. You sense when Emily enters the room, able to pinpoint the tread of her boots against the others with ease, and really how had this ever come as a surprise to you?

How had you failed to notice something so glaringly obvious? Emily Prentiss. How many years have you wasted failing to notice her? Going on dates with meaningless men, running yourself in circles and feeling guilty for not feeling enough when that woman makes you feel everything. 

And you weren’t going to waste another minute. 

Your shoulders set as you come to your decision and you place the empty glass of water down on the counter. Emily, equally as tuned to you, notices the change in your stance and from the other side of the room asks, “Ready to talk about what happened outside?” 

You turn around to face her, and your breath catches in your throat slightly. Wow. 

The sun shining in through the window is lighting up half her face, making her dark eyes sparkle more than normal, and bringing out the silver tones in her raven hair. 

“Y/N?” She prompts, brows drawing back together in concern as she approaches you. 

You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. “We can talk about what happened outside another time. I actually have something else I need to ask you.” 

Emily’s head tilts slightly, confusion masking her expression. “Okay?” 

You blow out a breath, and gathering all your confidence, ask, “How would you like to go out to dinner with me Friday night?” 

“Oh,” Emily smiles, shrugging, clearly still confused. “Yeah, of course, did you want to finally try that new sushi place?” 

You sigh, “No Emily. For a date.”

Her eyes widen, “Oh, oh, uh.” There’s silence for a moment and then “Yes,” As a massive smile spreads across her face and a laugh ripples from her mouth. “What? Are you serious?” 

You can’t help but laugh too, your cheeks warming. “Yes. I’d love to take you out for dinner, if you’re agreeable.”

Her eyes turn soft as her hand reaches out and squeezes your arm, causing butterflies in your stomach. “I would love that more than anything.” 

“It’s a date then.” You smile, eyes dropping down briefly to her lips. 

“It’s a date.” She agrees. 

It may be only five days away but god you would do anything to bend time and move it closer. You’ve waited years, what’s another five days…

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @dalexandriag16 @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @alexblakeswife @quinnharkness @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu @strongsassysexysloane (i have you all listed as being on my taglist but i know its been over a year so if you wanna be removed pls just message me/fill out the form linked on my masterlist and i can take you off <3)

[l0ve-dov3]

bedroom floor !

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚👒⊹♡

luke castellan x demeter! reader

summary: in which luke talks to his ex-girlfriend on a vacation with the senior campers.

warnings: just a naughty word or two :^

word count: 1.3k !

authors note: this one-shot is an ode to the song bedroom floor by sneaky peaches and the fuzz. definitely not sure about how i feel on this one-shot, but i tried my best to tie the ‘hopelessly heartbroken’ vibes of the song into this fic. can’t tell if it worked or not, soooo!

Luke sat in the back of a crowded van, listening to the loud chatter between his friends. It was summer, and the senior campers managed to get Chiron’s permission for a beach trip. This would be great, of course—for everyone needs a vacation sometimes—if you hadn’t broken up with him about a month prior.

It wasn’t exactly bad. You were far too sweet for a angry, heartless breakup like that. But Gods, did he miss you. I mean truly, deeply miss you, and he was hoping by now he’d be over it.

Spoiler, he wasn’t.

Because now, he was pretending to pay attention to Chris, more focused on you singing with Clarisse in the passenger seat.

“And he’s gone. How surprising.” Chris groaned, realizing that Luke was in his own little world. Silena chuckled, seeing Luke’s dazed expression next to Chris’ blank stare of frustration.

As a child of Aphrodite, and friend to the former couple, she often fell victim to Castellan’s bouts of love and sadness. She’d watched him ramble about how gorgeous you looked, wishing he could kiss you the way he used to. But, she had also let him lean on her shoulder, crying into the stars about how he’d follow you anywhere.

On the other hand, she knew how deeply it hurt you to break up with the golden boy. You had only done it out of fear, your recent nightmares pointing to a quest of some kind. You were scared. Scared of how the quest would turn out, and even more scared of how Luke may handle it, so you broke up with him.

You tried to ignore your guilt, but it kept coming back to taunt you. Your plan was to fix that today.

The car slowed to a halt, and the music was turned down, effectively stopping your singing and jumping. Clarisse leaned her elbow on the passenger seat, looking back to her friends with a smirk. “Alright bitches, our vacation has officially begun.”

The car filled with excited cheers, and in a mad rush to get out the car, everyone found themselves basking in the warmth of Jones Beach. The heat was refreshing, in a sense; a reminder that they were out of camp grounds and free to do as they pleased.

Y/n ran off to the edge of the water, her bags long forgotten in her excitement to be near the sea. She stood there, grinning at the waters edge, with a white coverup hiding her swimsuit from view.

“Come on Y/n, show us the swimsuit!” Clarisse whistled to you, earning a soft chuckle as she carried over your stuff. Since the breakup, you and Clarisse had become closer friends, jokingly flirting with each other and pushing each other’s buttons. You’d grown to find comfort in her mask of aggression, knowing that she was a true friend deep down.

“Don’t get too excited!” You yelled back to her, wiggling your shoulders exaggeratively and earning laughs from your group of friends.

As the laughing began to die, you untied your coverup, letting it drop to the ground dramatically. Clarisse and Chris whistled, Silena clapping and hooting in a bout of approval; but Luke sat there, eyes wide with adoration, trying—and failing—not to stare for too long.

You were wearing a light blue one piece, made with a perfect bow in the center of your chest. It hugged your hips comfortably, and he watched as you spun in a circle to show your friends the whole thing.

It was nothing revealing, nor outlandish, it was just such a reflection of you. The sweet, soft, bow-loving girl he always knew.

And he needed you, unlike anything in the world. He needed you now, and forever.

⋆·˚ ༘ *👒

The first two hours of your beach trip were spent splashing each other and swallowing too much ocean water. Most recently, you played water chicken on Silena’s shoulders, with Chris fighting against you on Luke’s. The ravenette spared glances at you every few seconds, making Chris lose to a solid push right to his chest. The boys splashed and laughed in a faux rivalry, throwing random accusations as to why they had lost, and you watched them lovingly as you made your way out of the water.

You decided you wanted to sunbathe for a bit, growing tired of the endless swimming and dunking your friends into the water. Sunbathing was much more relaxing, and it would give you time to read the book you’d been meaning to start.

Watching as you laid down on your towel, Luke slowly stopped splashing Chris. Even he would admit it was creepy, how often he stopped to look at you, but this time he couldn’t help but indulge. His heartbeat sped up with every passing second, wanting nothing but to walk through the sand and be with you. Wanting love. Wanting you. Wanting things to be normal again.

“Chris, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Chris shrugged, already knowing where his friend would go.

The child of Hermes swam up to the shore, anxiously walking up to the spot where you lay. You could feel his presence before you saw him, and your heart tightened as he took a seat right beside you.

“Y/n.” He said gingerly, trying not to let his anxiousness bleed into his words.

“Hey hero.” You sighed softly in return, sitting up to face him properly. You knew that he wanted to talk, and you knew you needed to. You made a mistake in breaking up with him, and he deserved to know. But, just as your lips parted, his own words came spilling out.

“I miss you, Y/n.” He began, taking a deep breath, “You were—and you still are—the best thing to ever come out of this shitty life of being a half-blood. You—You are gentle, and kind, and soft, and I can be slow with you. I can live and love slow with you.”

His words made your heart stutter, your breathing going shallow with the weight of it all. You looked down at your feet, tears threatening to fall, as he rambled about you.

“You are my angel, my flower, my sun and my stars. I would follow you anywhere, Y/n, but I have to know why…” He paused, swallowing any fear left in his stomach, “Why wouldn’t you follow me?”

His final words came out in a solemn whisper, one that made you shiver with guilt at how you’d hurt this poor boy. What you thought would help had only harmed the both of you, and now, you were paying for it; paying for the way he loved you so unconditionally.

“I want to, Luke.” You whispered, tears landing on your towel beneath you.

Luke felt his heart shatter. He watched as you wiped away tears stiffly, trying to hide the way you slowly broke in front of him. With a cautious hand, he reached up to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb the way he always did when you cried. His calloused hand felt like it melted into you, a sensation so familiar that it made you cry harder. You missed him. You missed this, and the way he held you.

So you leaned in, bringing a hand to the side of his neck. He looked into your eyes, tearful and soft, and planted a passionate kiss on your shaking lips. The butterflies in your stomach awoke from their slumber, and your lips molded to his in the same way they used to. You tasted like strawberries and vanilla, and he brought you in further to taste you just a bit more.

“I want to, Luke.” You breathed, “I want to follow you anywhere.”

[yelenasdiary]

Hello! It’s my first time requesting something, sooo a bit nervous!

Can I request some fluff with Kate or Yelena, where the whole compound has some spooky Halloween night and everyone is going to dress up. But fem!reader doesn’t know who to go as and is a bit anxious about the whole party thing. So Kate or Yelena decided to make matching costumes and just helps her ease the nerves?

Thank youuu very much. Also I love your writing and can’t wait for another of your fics!! 💖

Costume Hunting

Pairing: Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader (All Platonic)

Summary: The party is around the corner and you’re having second doubts about a costume until your closet friends lend a helping hand. 

Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of social anxiety, mentions of drinking | 1.3K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope it’s okay I made this entirely platonic between everybody, I thought it would be sweet! I hope you enjoy! x

October Special Masterlist 2024

“So, have you picked a costume yet?” Kate asked as she lay comfortably across your bed. You sighed heavily as the thought dawned on you once again. “I don’t think I’m going to go to be honest” you replied, avoiding eye contact with the archer. Kate sat up almost instantly with a soft frown, “What? But you were so excited about all this just last week” she said. 

“I know but I can’t find anything decent and interesting to wear and it’s like another one of Tony’s big, big parties. It just doesn’t really seem like my vibe the more thought I give it” you explained, hoping your friend wouldn’t be as disappointed in you than you thought. Kate slid off your bed gracefully before she wandered over to your wardrobe and rampaged through your clothing. 

“Kate, I’ve literally done that so many times” you said with a light chuckle, “I’m being serious when I say I have nothing to wear” you added. But Kate wasn’t taking your word for it, she was a bright one for ideas which always amazed you, she had an idea for anything as it seemed. 

“This could work as a witch’s outfit” she smiled as she pulled out one of your plain, flowy black dresses.

“A witch?” You questioned with a raised brow, “no offense but I was really wanting to go as something cool and uncommon” 

“Cool and uncommon, got it!” Kate smiled softly as she returned the dress to its original spot before she turned on her heels to face you once more, “get your coat, we’re going to the mall”

“Kate, honestly no, it’s fine. It’s just a party, I’m not missing out on much” you did your best to assure your friend who just shook her head at your words, “You spent all of last week boosting about how exited and fun this party is going to be, you even convinced Yelena to come so now it’s my turn to convince you” Kate chuckled playfully knowing she’ll get her way sooner or later, “besides, what’s got you so worried?” She asked. 

“I don’t want to look like an idiot” you admitted, “everybody, including you and Yelena are going to have some really great costumes and are going to look amazing and knowing me, I’m going to look like the odd one out” 

“That’s where you’re wrong” Kate sat down next to you on your bed, “it’s a Halloween party, nobody is going to look like an idiot or out of place. Unless you plan on not dressing up then maybe that would make you feel out of place but you’re not because we’re going to the mall, and we’ll pick Yelena up on the way and we can all pick out a costume” Kate added with a comforting smile. 

“I have no choice in this, do I?” You cocked a brow. 

“Nope” Kate’s smile grew bigger as she took your hand and pulled you gently off the bed, “I’ll meet you outside!” 

----

With Halloween only a few days away, your hopes of finding a costume weren’t very high. Kate had some costume ideas that she brought to the table but none of them seemed to really jump out at you until Yelena mentioned she also had no idea on what costume to wear that Kate suggested the three of you find a trio idea.

The thought of going to this party as a little group already began to ease the nerves of the party and you soon felt a burst of excitement hit you once again. Yelena, not really sure what she was interested in dressing up as let you and Kate run wild with thoughts and ideas until Kate suggested maybe the three of you going as minions would be fun. 

“Minions?” Yelena cocked a brow, “those yellow alien bean things from that animated movie with the villain with a giant nose?” She asked causing you and Kate to laugh at her expense, “Despicable me, yes” Kate corrected her. 

“I love the idea, it’s easy and it seems we can find most items without the stress of stuff being sold out already but, how do we make it spooky?” You asked. 

“Maybe we could be serial killer minions!” Kate pitched. 

“Bob as a serial killer? He couldn’t hurt a fly!” You replied. 

“Very true, what about zombie minions?!” Kate suggested once more. Yelena sipping on her chocolate milkshake while you and Kate agreed on the idea before the conversation shifted to make up and how to make an undead look. 

“Which minion am I?” Yelena asked once you and Kate had finally took a second to catch some air. You and Kate turned to the blonde, “Stuart!” You both said in sync without a second thought. Yelena nodded, “I liked him, I think? I can’t remember. They all look the same to me” she replied. 

The three of you, mostly just you and Kate soured the mall for make-up that would help with the zombie look of the costume, Yelena acted more so like the bag lady. Whenever you or Kate found something in the store, you gave it to her to hold until it was time to check out. With some luck, there was overalls in stock and you were able to find some yellow t-shirts to wear underneath. It wasn’t hard to find some black gloves and some scientists goggles that Kate said would be easy to turn into the ones minions wore. 

Once the three of you returned to your apartment, you knew that there was no backing out of the party now. The three of you bonding over how you wanted the zombie make up to look. 

“I can not believe you two are making me dress up as a yellow bean” Yelena commented, making you and Kate chuckle at her once again.

“Nobody is making you, Lena!” You teased, “you do-“

“No, no, I am going as zombie Stuart and it’s going to be fun! I’m gonna tuck a dagger into my pouch because Stuart did not die without a fight!” She quickly cut you off, the tone in her voice told you that she was excited for the party and didn’t mind at all going as a trio. 

——

The night of the party came a few days later. You, Kate and Yelena got ready in Kate’s room at the compound, each of you helping one another with the special effects make up. You weren’t one for drinking much but you had a few shots of Yelena’s vodka before going downstairs with your two best friends.

The room downstairs was decorated almost too perfectly, Pepper and Wanda had out done themselves this year. A slightly unusual playlist helped set the mood for the spooky themed party. Punch with fake eyeballs floating around in it sat on a table beside the bar, Halloween themed cupcakes and cookies were spread out on another table, courtesy to Wanda’s baking! Guest had already started to fill the room, plenty of different outfits, some predictable and others took you by surprise. 

“So” Yelena said, once she had finished scanning the room, “what do we do now?” She asked. 

Kate chuckled, “you’ve really never been to a party, have you?”

“Kate, don’t tease her, it’s not her fault Nat doesn’t party anymore” you pitch in with a playful chuckle.

“Natasha used to party?” Yelena raised a brow. 

“Theres a reason she’s behind the bar” you nudge the blonde. 

“Come on, let’s get this party started!” Kate smiled before she wandered over to the punch and helped herself. As the night went on, your nerves about the vent were non existent. The night was full of laughter and plenty of photos on Kate’s behalf. The three of you danced, yes even Yelena was dragged into that but if the one thing that made your night the best night was being able to spend it with your two best friends.

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[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

can you do one where reader is Dunn’s girlfriend amd they are at a party with the crew celebrating the movie or something. Dunn is super touchy the whole night and they end up in the bathroom for a quickie 🙈 if you don’t write suggestive content they can just sneak to the bathroom to have a makeout session

Sneaking (Getting) Off

Jackass: Number Two has just finished filming, and what better way to celebrate than renting out the hottest bar in LA and hosting a kickass wrap party? Well, your boyfriend could think of a few better ways…

Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

1.3k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, drinking, crude language, injury, implied sex, bathroom sex

An: Thank you so much for the request! If I’m being entirely honest, the way I depicted Ryan and Y/N’s relationship in this fics is pretty similar to how I would like my future relationships to look XD I’ve always thought that Dunn would, for lack of a better word, be the kind of person you could spend a lot of time arround. Anyways, thank you for the request, and please keep sending them!!

Typically, when Ryan and you were together, things could not be more chill. In essence, your relationship could be described as friends who shared the same bed; It wasn’t like a friends with benefits situation, you just weren't constantly on each other and overly affectionate like most couples are, and that low maintenance thing cut through the shit parts of dating. Now, note I specified ‘typically’, because once in a while- for a reason you couldn’t place- Dunn would get this weird bug up his ass and just couldn’t keep his hands off of you, like a male version of baby fever. This isn’t to say you didn’t enjoy it because you enjoyed it a great deal, thank you very much- but it wasn’t always the most convenient thing. Take, for example, tonight.

You arrived fashionably late, as you did to any event you attended. It was hot and muggy, as were most nights in LA, and the moment you stepped into the bar, you were greeted by Bam (one of Dunn’s dumb little buddies), who was visibly a few deep and had a fistful of darts in one hand and a beer in another, “Heyy, Ry! Me an’ the guys’re throwin’ darts at Steve-O’s ass- you gotta come check it out!” Politely palming the beer that was thrust in his direction, Ryan shook him off in the nicest way possible, “Yeah, that sounds cool! But I’ll, uh-“ From behind his shades, he shot a glance down at where he had you on his arm before turning back to Bam, ”I’ll catch up with you later. See ya, man.” Not dejected in the slightest, he just went back to doing whatever dumb shit he was occupied with before you showed up and you and Dunn went to grab a drink.

With how Ryan was stuck to your side like some needy dog that was begging for attention, you would’ve thought one of his dumb little buddies got into the superglue, but it’s not like you minded. You sat at the bar and chatted about the torture he had to endure for this movie, including him showing off some pretty questionable scars. There was something so enthralling about hearing him speak, and the way he looked at you as if you were the only girl in the room helped given the grisly subject matter. “This one’s from that stupid cacti jump stunt, and these-“ Dunn sat up from where he was leaning against the bar top and tugged up the bottom of his shirt, exposing the little red half moon scars that littered the pale skin of his stomach, “These’re from the riot control test. God, that one sucked so bad.” You winced in empathy, inhaling through your teeth. Taking a sip of your drink, you quickly shook it off and shifted the topic to something that had been on your mind for a while now, “Y’know, you can go hang out with your friends if you want. I mean, it’s your party after all.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in your words. Dunn just shrugged, cracking an amused smile as if you suggested something totally ridiculous, “Nah- I’m alright with you.”

It got to the point that you had to practically drag him to where the guys were clustered around a pool table and actively force him to hang out with his friends, but still, your efforts were ineffective. See, your boyfriend can be pretty quiet when it comes to wanting attention. To illustrate this, let’s compare him to Bam. If Bam wanted attention from his girlfriend, he would likely do some ridiculous stunt and end up hurting himself to force her to patch him up or slide up next to her if she was talking to another guy and get real handsy to make a big show of the fact that she was his. Ryan, on the other hand, didn’t look at you like that. In general, he was more subtle. Take for example, the way that he had been eyeing you from across the room even while he was off with his friends. Their stories about sleeping with strippers and getting their stomachs pumped went in one ear and out the other because he was so totally focused on you that night. And you were perceptive to this stuff because you knew Ryan. You knew all of his tells.

After maybe thirty minutes of drinking alone, you picked up on his voice from across the room, “Yeah- I'm gonna go get another drink. I’ll be right back!” You didn’t even need to look over to the previously empty stool at your side to know who sat down next to you. “What do you want?” Raising an eyebrow at your sarcasm, Dunn slipped a hand on your thigh, making you feel even warmer under the incandescent lights that hung above your heads, “You look hot.” Taking a swig of your drink, you turned so that you were face to face and dropped your voice down so as not to be heard over the chatter of the bar, “You’ve been starin’ at me all night like some lost puppy, and that’s the best pick up line you could come up with?” Your boyfriend chuckled, leaning in towards you so there was about an inch of room between your bodies. His hushed words were tinged with this conspiritory tone as he murmured, almost directly in your ear, “I think you know what I want.”

If there was one thing Ryan loved about you, it was how you could keep up with him. It was like some sexy Abott and Costello routine the two of you had- this ceaseless back and forth until one of you caved. Running your hand across the sticky, wooden countertop, you cooed your words slow and heavy with implication, “Right here? Right here on the bar?” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see some of the guys eyeing what was happening at the bar, which only served to fuel your teasing further, “Or what about the pool table over there? With all your friends watching us…” Despite the whole exhebitionism thing and the latent sexual appeal of green felt, Ryan had other plans in mind. Standing up, he cleared his throat before patting you on the back and scanning the room for something, “Nah- you’re a lady with class. I gotta better place.”

What a gentleman your boyfriend is, taking his woman of refinement off to the bathroom to screw. Hell, you couldn’t even say that, because you didn’t even make it into the stall before you were on each other. Yep, he caved all right. Hands on bodies, mouths on bodies- in this hormone fueled haze, it was hard to tell who began where as Dunn had you pressed against the cold tiled wall. The astringent scent of disinfectant mingled with cheap booze and desire as you practically tripped over each other’s feet. Ryan had you by the waist and your hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt and you practically tumbled into the nearest stall, clumsily locking it behind you. It was frantic and passionate- and fuck, it was hot.

Outside the ladies room, however, things were not nearly as sexy. Yep, the guys were still standing around, idly chatting and getting trashed with the occasional prank sprinkled on- think pissing on someone’s leg or sneaking up behind them with a pair of electric clippers. So consumed in their benign antics, it was half an hour before anyone noticed you were gone. It was Bam, funnily enough, who brought this to everyone’s attention. “Hey, has anyone seen Dunn?” Almost as if on cue, there you come totally not suspiciously stumbling out of the bathroom, adjusting your hair and buttoning up your top with Ryan right behind you. Yep, everyone knew. And the worst part was, you didn’t really care.

[eowynstwin]

CARTEL PROTECTION

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish x f!Reader, Alejandro Vargas x f!Reader (unrequited but also kind of requited, it's complicated) Rating: All Ages Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: None Author's Notes: The first chapter in a series that I will likely not get to, but it's fun and I thought y'all might enjoy it. Who knows, if there's enough interest I might write a connected fic or two rather than a whole thing. I hope y'all can excuse how very rough this is, because it is literally the very first draft.

The tarmac of Los Vaqueros Cuartel General is hard and hot beneath the soles of your boots, bouncing the heat of the Mexican sun back upwards toward its origin, and as you approach the truckside powwow you can feel a fine sheen of perspiration beginning to form on your bare arms. It’s hot, far too hot for late October, and you don’t imagine yourself not sweating for however long this operation is going to take.

“I need you in Las Almas,” Laswell had said over the phone, intruding on an appointment with your manicurist. “Something is going on, and I don’t have enough information.”

“Sure,” you’d replied, regarding the woman opposite you trying to hide the fact that she was listening in. The nail tech wasn’t a plant, you were reasonably certain, but only an amateur talked freely about your kind of work. “I’d love to see Alejo and his kids again.”

You put two fingers (nails painted with tiny sugar skulls) to your tongue and cab-whistle at the group of three men to catch their attention. None of them flinch, and as they all turn to look at you, you realize immediately that this job is going to be more bothersome than you’d assumed, because the skull-plated mask that turns your way is not, as it were, a new face.

You remember the iron smell of staunched blood and the full brunt of his weight driving the both of you to the ground as you’d tried to hold him up. You remember the drench of warm Kastovian rain and hydroplaning in a stolen truck across the border into Georgia. You remember watching three hours of surgery. You had not stayed to see the fourth.

It shows immediately in his eyes as you meet them. The man you only know as Ghost remembers too.

You are not in the business of dragging baggage around. “Colonel Vargas!” you call, waving.

“Alma!” Alejandro exclaims, a wide smile breaking the severe lines of his angular face. “Laswell said you were coming, but I didn’t expect you so soon!”

As you join the men, you let him hug you, unable to keep from grinning at his easy affection. Alejandro—Alejo to you—is another familiar face.

You remember reheated mole verde on rice in the General kitchen, tiny sips of mezcal as he waxed poetic about what he could do with the full stock he kept in the larders of his fabled ranch. He’d looked at you warmly then, as warmly as he looks at you now when you release your embrace.

You hold his warmth precious, but do not respond to it.

“Someone has to be the brains of this operation,” you say, and wave to Rudy in the truck.

“It’s Alma, then?” asks the soldier standing next to Ghost, in a brogue that stands out as much as Ghost does.

John “Soap” MacTavish is the only personage you do not know. Laswell had given you a very sparse brief before you’d headed toward Mexico, so you already know that he’s both effective in the field and resolutely Scottish, but it only takes you one glance to get a notion of his character. The mohawk says more about him than he probably could ever say about himself, and the stunning blue eyes tell you the rest.

You glance at Ghost. Laswell had told you about Soap, and said you knew everyone else. Damn her. She isn’t getting a Christmas card this year.

“Sometimes,” you answer the Scot, looking back at him. Alma, of course, is not your real name.

Ghost snorts. He doesn’t say anything, but you know what he’s thinking.

So you say it out loud, smiling at the sergeant congenially. “Sometimes it’s Katya. Sometimes it’s something else. Maybe I’d be Mary, if we were in Glasgow.”

He smiles back immediately. Oh yes, Soap MacTavish is a dangerously open book. “Queen of Scots, aye? I see how it is.”

“CIA shit,” grumbles Ghost. Then, to business, “Where’s Hassan?”

-

Las Almas is as beautiful as you remember it, colorful and lively as the Fuerzas Especiales convoy passes from the countryside into the city’s sprawling outskirts.

“So how do you know Alejandro?” Soap asks, looking at you over his shoulder. He’d volunteered to take the furthermost seat in the back, which was really more of a padded bench facing out the window, in order to give you the more comfortable chair.

You meet his gaze. The SAS needed to hang a warning sign on him—DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT—because close up, the jewel-bright azure is even more arresting than it had been at a distance.

“I met him on vacation,” you reply, lifting one brow and hopefully hiding the little jolt in your breath that the proximity inspired.

Rudy and Alejandro both laugh at that. You chance a peek at Ghost, who’s sitting beside you in the back row of the SUV, and find him looking resolutely forward. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

“Anyone who comes to Las Almas for vacation is either too stupid to live past the first day,” says Rudy, eyes crinkling as they meet yours in the rear view mirror, “or just crazy enough to have a good time.”

You smile back—it wasn’t the first time he’d said that about you.

“In truth, we’ve ended up helping each other a few times, haven’t we?” says Alejo. “The US is always worried about narcos crossing the border, and Fuerzas Especiales is always in need of good intelligence.”

It had been your impeccable Spanish that had convinced Kate to stick you across the border. Her superiors had been doing their augury, reading the bird formations in the sky and sifting through the proverbial entrails, and had decided via these machinations that rather than let you monitor Verdansk post-Armistice as you’d originally been tasked (your Russian is also impeccable), you should instead worry about cartels on the Texas border.

You sneak a glance at Ghost again. He’s looking at you this time, eyes narrowed.

The reassignment had come to you at the third hour.

“Hopefully ‘Alma’ can help again, then,” he says, and it is very strange to hear that name on his tongue, to hear the syllables bend around the brassy, rumbling Manc that had comfortably used another name for you entirely.

Verdansk. A hollow shell of a building, its veins somehow still pumping water and electricity. His mask, pulled up over his nose, revealing a hard line of a mouth as he sipped bitter black coffee, the corners twisting as he was unable to hide how much he hated it.

“You should be burned for this by itself, Katya,” he’d grumbled.

“You do groceries next time,” you’d replied pleasantly. “See if the shelves magically fill with boxes of Tetley when you’re there.”

“Fuck Tetley. Even this swill is better than that.”

He still drank the whole cup.

“Think I prefer Mary,” says Soap, settling against your seat back.

The brogue brings you out of the memory and back into the present. Verdansk is half a world away. So is the Ghost you’d playacted domesticity with. You needed to make room in your head for missiles, rogue Quds Force majors, and enterprising narcos. The job had no care for anything else.

“And that’s why I’d choose it,” you say, mimicking his posture and sitting back. The Scot has no place in any of your memories, not in Kastovia and not in Las Almas—and you’re thankful, in that moment, that he’s there. “People are willing to do things for someone that sounds like one of their own.”

You hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “Can’t think of a man who wouldn’t do anything for you, bonnie—”

“Alright, sergeant!” Ghost snaps.

The reprimand surprises you both, and you lapse into awkward, contrite silence. Alejo meets your eyes in the rear view, concerned, and you give them an exaggerated roll.

The need to ground yourself notwithstanding, it was a bad idea—and, you think, massively trashy—to flirt right in front of him.

You slouch in your chair. Laswell is getting coal for Christmas. The grossest, sootiest stuff you can find.

[snorky]

Hi, I really adore your work and wanted to request an UPL imagine,, maybe hurt/comfort, if that's something you're comfortable doing? Thank you so so much!! 🩷🩷🩷 have a great day!!!:)

But Beware, Beware, Beware (And Take It Slow Tonight)

Hey y’all, and hi-hello to the lovely requester who asked for a Ukko-Pekka hurt/comfort, which is something I am usually one-hundred percent okay doing :) Thank you so much for the kind words as well, luv ya lots <3 If the pronouns of the reader in this fic (she/her) need to be changed (directed at the requester) please let me know! Title is from the song "Today I Saw The Whole World" by Pierce The Veil. I hope you angels are all doing well and lovely, and enjoy this fic, and also, remember to take care of yourself!

Pairing: Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Yelling/Shouting, Hurt/Comfort, Not proofread yet (sigh), (let me know if I need to add anything)

—

—

Fear. It was the only thing she felt while she was stuck in a room with him, sitting down at the dinner table with her head in her hands, and all he could do was yell curses and shout at whatever rolled off of his tongue that seemed to be laced with poison. The only source of light came from behind him in the kitchen, casting mangled shadows across the room like twisted trees and thorns.

Tears seemed to roll down her cheeks endlessly, and yet, he didn’t seem to acknowledge a single one as he kept shouting at her, his larger frame so much more intimidating.

He said he would never do this, he said he would never hurt her, but at the moment, all his promises seemed to be made of lies and emptiness. The rage in his eyes seemed to burn into her skin, his laugh empty and mocking, and she felt so afraid.

As he slammed his fist onto the table, she woke from her sleep, breathless and teary eyed.

Looking over to the sleeping figure next to her, she could see that he was sleeping peacefully, chest rhythmically rising and falling with each deep breath of his. His hair was slightly tousled, falling softly onto his forehead.

She tried to wipe away the tears with the back of her palm, yet they kept falling against her will as she thought back to the nightmare she just had. He seemed so gentle, fast asleep right next to her, but her mind was at unease and turmoil.

Pushing the covers and sheets aside, she got out of bed, the hardwood floor cold beneath her feet. It creaked and croaked, causing her to freeze as he started to roll over in bed. When he started to settle down, she walked out into the darkened hallway, pictures and paintings hung on the wall.

It felt like a home, something she was so happy to share with Ukko, something that was so comforting to her deep down, but at the moment, she didn’t feel safe at all. She felt like she wasn’t supposed to be here in this house she called a home, she felt like she didn’t deserve to live such a content life.

As she opened the front door, she turned the front porch light on, illuminating the concrete steps that were decorated with potted flowers and plants. Carefully, she shut the door behind her, trying not to wake her lover up.

She sat down, looking off into the empty street at night, only illuminated by the street lamps posted every now and then on the sidewalk. It was quiet, oh so quiet, and she could hear each heartbeat of hers, rapid and rampant as she tried to recollect herself.

Her hands wiped at the tears that kept falling, pawing at them with her palms, irritating the skin. There was a lump in her throat that she couldn’t seem to swallow or push down, and it felt as if she was at the mercy of whatever happened next.

And silence followed, the sound of crickets chirping endlessly into the night, an owl in the far, far distance. It was much calmer than what her mind seemed to conjure up only a few minutes prior.

Only then the calm was broken by the front door opening, and a quiet sigh from behind her.

“Why are you out here, darling?” His voice was groggy, having just woken up, and she could tell that he was a little surprised to see her out here. “It’s cold and you’re going to get sick,” he said worriedly. There was a slight hint of care in his voice, nurturing and sweet as ever, but she didn’t want to accept it.

When he tried to reach out to her, she moved away from his touch, looking at him with scared, puffy and bloodshot eyes. His heart broke at the sight of her, not knowing what happened or why she was out here in the first place.

He squatted down, lowering himself to be near eye-level with her, hoping to try and figure out why she seemed so hurt by him. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

She simply shook her head, not wanting to speak. Her silent cries still passed her lips every now and then, each sob causing a pain and crack in his heart.

Ukko understood that the season was rough for the Sabres, each loss whenever he played feeling like a massive weight on his shoulders, and missing the playoffs was something that made him more disappointed in himself. He could’ve played better, stopped more goals, been more consistent, and yet he just wasn’t.

He never wanted it to affect his personal life, he never wanted to upset her in any way, but there were some nights where he just wanted a bit of alone time, by himself.

Sitting down beside her, lips pressed in a tight line, he looked at her face, hoping to search for an unspoken answer. Her breath was more steady, less sharp than before, and she looked at him nervously.

“I had a bad dream Ukko,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. “You were—you were yelling and shouting at me—” Her sentences broke out into a sob again, head reburied into her hands.

He felt hurt by this, unsure of why she would ever think that he would purposely try to hurt her. “I wouldn’t do that!”

She jumped slightly at his words, frightened, her tears stuck in silence. Her eyes widened in fear as she started to cry harder, causing him to realize what he had done.

Immediately, regret seemed to fill him as he pulled her close, attempting to comfort her to the best of his abilities.

“No, please, I’m so sorry, enkelini,” he murmured into her hair. His arms were wrapped around her as her head was pressed under his chin. “My sweet angel, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you, I’m sorry.”

She so badly wanted to pull away from him, locking herself in a room in the house away from him, but she remained there, crying in his arms. His hand grazed her skin gently, moving up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“I’ll always try to protect you and make you feel safe—” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “—and I’m really sorry I messed up.”

They both sat there on the porch in silence together, concrete cold beneath them as she sniffled, breaths still unsteady. He held her close, afraid that if he let go, she would slip away from him forever.

Grabbing her hand gently, he brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, thumb grazing over her knuckles.

“You deserve to be treated like a princess, you know?” His voice was quiet, but steady, confident.

Looking up at him, her eyes were puffy, tired and exhausted. “What do you mean?”

He smiled at her sweetly, eyes warm and soft, creating butterflies in her every time. Swiftly, he picked her up with ease in his strong arms, causing a small laugh to bubble up from her throat.

“Like this, making you laugh, carrying you back into bed with me,” he listed. His cheeks were rosy, as if he had fallen in love with her for the first time again. “You’re my rakas,”

“I can’t understand Finnish, Upie,” she yawned, the lack of sleep catching up to her.

As he set her in the bed, he climbed in with her, arms wrapping around her once more. “It means ‘love’ as in the nickname.” Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he rested his face into the crook of her neck, where he pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“Get some sleep, hun,” she said, fingers weaving into his hair, gently playing with it. “I wanna get breakfast tomorrow morning at this new place in town.”

He let out a deep chuckle, smiling against her. “Anything for you, my princess.”

[emswritingsstuff]

can you do another rosita x transmasc reader where reader got pretty banged up and rosita is taking care of him and nursing him back to health :) i love ur fics sm <333

this was so fun ahhhh

--

Loving Machine (Rosita Espinosa x Transmasc! Reader)

WC: 1.3k

--

Pain, all you felt was pain. Your eyes fluttered open and the light in the room was quick to blind you. The fluorescent lighting makes your head pound and hurt more; it took a minute for your eyes to adjust to the new setting you were in. It wasn’t the first time you were in the infirmary, but it was the first time you had to stay there in a bed. 

You had tried to turn yourself on your side, but to your defeat it hurt too much. Grunting you just laid down on your back and assessed where your injuries were, most of them in your sides and face. A few on your arms too, making pain circulate almost everywhere. 

The door opening alerted you to look in its direction, Rosita walking through it and immediately seeing you awake. She’d visibility looked surprised, but happy, thrilled even. Before you knew it, she had embraced you in a soft hug, one that made you feel safe in her arms. Her touch was careful, like she could break you if she held you so tight. 

“Took a damn hard beating out there,” she whispered into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder. You nodded along, “I’m feelin’ it.” A slight giggle left your mouth, causing more pain to surge through you. You’d winced involuntarily, which caused Rosita to pull back and look you over. 

“I’m fine,” you smiled, but upon looking at her you saw stitches on her face. Rosita caught your eyes looking and she shook her head. “Don’t worry about that, Savior assholes.” You nodded and looked down at your hands in your lap. The ‘Savior assholes’ she was talking about were probably the same ones that gave you a beating. 

They had started raiding the pantry again when you were doing inventory while Olivia was with Judith. You were more than fed up at this point, they intimated the hell out of you, so you stayed silent while they were there. But that didn’t mean you were weak. Standing in the corner, you had tried to keep track of everything they were taking but ultimately failing. They were too quick, which annoyed you, so you just stood still. Watching as you couldn’t do anything to end the robbery you were witnessing. 

Soon enough when they were done and of course, one of them came up to you, obviously wanting to start something. But you had to stand your ground. This was your home; you weren’t going down without a fight. 

“Thanks for makin’ this easy on us’,” He was a strong looking guy, making you feel small in that moment. “What's wrong, cat got your tongue?” You’d managed to keep a straight face as he pressed you, attempting to look as tough as you could. 

“No, just don't want to talk to you,” You maintained eye contact, hoping to intimate him. But it clearly didn’t work. 

“Well tough guy, all you have to say i-” 

“Don’t call those dumbass nicknames. I have an actual name. Use it.” Your fists balled at your side, you were getting angrier and angrier with every word that flew out his mouth. The man was taken back and smirked at you, in a mocking way. He knew his plan was working, but like hell you were going to let him disrespect you. 

“Well? What is it?” he placed his hands on his sides, clearly trying to make you scared. But you wouldn’t budge. You weren’t going to let him scare you. 

“(Y/N).” 

He kept speaking but you didn’t even bother to listen, all you saw was red. He was going on about how you should be grateful, how Negan is going to be happy if you listen. You should all be happy helping the Saviors cause. All you wanted to do was punch him in his stupid face. 

And you did. 

Hardest punch you’ve ever thrown in your whole life, managing to knock him down, and you paid the price. The other two he was with were quick to pounce on you, taking you down and beating you almost senseless. You weren’t sure how long it had lasted, but soon enough they had stopped and left. Leaving you there. Everything was blurry after that. The last thing you remember is hearing Aaron shout your name. 

Now you were here in the infirmary, bedridden, and Rosita taking care of you. Relaying on her made you feel bad, like you were just mooching off her, but she never once made you feel that way. It was the exact opposite to her. During this time of healing, she would always be there to reassure you. She would make sure you knew that she cared, and she would be able to sleep better at night knowing she was the one helping you. 

Every once in a while, she would have to step out and handle other business, but she would never leave without giving you a soft kiss. Also promising that she would come back. And to her credit, the promise was never broken. Even if you were asleep, she would sneak in and sleep beside you. Doing her absolute best not to disturb your slumber. You always woke up to her there, and you were grateful. 

Rosita had managed everything for you, making everything go smoothly. Ultimately making things so much more at ease for you. You didn’t have to worry about when to take your medicine because Rosita was already handing it to you. She would always bring you dinner and would eat with you, making you feel less lonely. If you needed something from your house, Rosita was already out the door to grab it. She was going above and beyond for you and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. 

Eventually, the one thing you were dreading with this process came up. Changing the bandages. It had to be done so the healing would go smoothly, but finally seeing all your wounds and torso exposed to Rosita scared you. Part of you wondered if she would judge, but you also knew she wouldn’t. It was being vulnerable that scared you. 

Entering the room, Rosita flashed you a soft smile and raised her hand up to show you the new gauze and bandages. You nodded and sat up slowly, careful to not make yourself hurt more. She sat beside you and got everything ready to clean and rebandage you. She had started with the easier ones, the wounds on your face and arms being first. Nothing much was said during this, Rositas soft touches being enough to bring you comfort. The occasional “sorry” with a light giggles filled the air when you winced. 

Once finishing up all the more exposed wounds, Rositas hand met your shoulders and she moved you so that you could look at her. She knew what was bothering you, she just knew. But she also knew it had to be done. 

“I’m only going to expose the bandages, nothing else, okay? I want you to be comfortable” You gently nodded and laid down, trying to make Rosita's job easier. She made sure to do this as quickly as possible, and that she did. You were only laying down for a bit before she placed your shirt back down and patted your shoulder, telling you that you could sit up. 

Rosita had left the room for a minute to clean up and put things away, and also grab you more medicine. She came back and gently sat down on the foot of the bed, right next to your feet. Handing you the pills, you took them and handed her her water bottle back, even though you knew she was going to make you keep it. 

You both sat there, just living in the moment with each other. Words couldn’t even describe how grateful you were to have Rosita in your life, for someone to take care of you like this, it was amazing. 

Your face broke into a stupid smile as you kept looking at her, which she was very quick to notice. “What?” she smiled back. 

“I just love you.” 

--

i love when fluffy Rosita content

[gurugirl]

Will you give us a little something else for the stepmom!reader fic? I'm really curious about how you'll go about it. Will it be anything like your stepdad!harry one? I hate/love stepdad!harry. I love reading it (super guilty pleasure) but in reality that man would be trash so I also hate him.

I'm really looking forward to the stepmom one though, as a 30 year old woman I feel like usually we see a lot of Harry being older and dominant but it would be fun to look at this in a different perspective with reader being a little older.

YES - i know what you mean about stepdad!harry. he's kind of trash but that's the whole point in that au. it's mostly about the smut. 😂

But for stepmom!reader it's not going to be like that at all. As a woman I cannot see her being toxic in the way I've written harry as stepdad.

This one will have some background about her marriage and the kind of arrangement she and harry's dad have.

While it's still a completely messed up situation, this one will be softer and there will be some pining a bit. I've got almost 20k words written for it already and I'm actually loving it. Harry meets yn when he's in college and an adult so there's nothing too odd about them being attracted to one another. She's about 7 years old than him. Harry will be a virgin but not for lack of confidence or charm. You'll see.

But I'll give you a little teaser below the cut (1.3k words). Enjoy!

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come on Friday as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dancefloor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscaper had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, frozen fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted woman. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

illicit affairs

the one where Joel doesn't call

Summary: After making peace with Joel's decision not to get in touch with you, you move on with your life and meet your new neighbour and his friends.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, angst, fluff, some heartbreak

A/N: Pick your own ending part two. feat Frankie Morales

illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

If was three weeks after you were back from Austin that you realised that Joel would not call. That he did not want to be there for you and most importantly for his daughter. You were talking almost daily to your brother and mother. 

So you knew that he had broken up with your mother and gone Mia almost immediately. 

More than once your finger hovered over the call button over the number your best friend had found online of his construction company. 

You were dying to just yell at him. 

Yell at him for breaking your heart. 

Yell at him for breaking your mothers heart.

Yell at him for being a coward and leaving you without a word. 

Yell at him for leaving you to carry all the consequences of one weekend full of sex.

Because that was what this was to him, wasn’t it? 

But what good would that do?

It wouldn’t help you in the end. And frankly you were scared of how he would react if you cornered him. If you got him on the phone in the first place. 

He obviously did not see you that more than a nice fuck, so you let yourself wallow in your heartbreak for some days more before you decided that it was time to move on with your life. 

Your life would change in a matter of months and you were nowhere close to being prepared. 

All your friends in Seattle cleared their whole weekend when you finally found your dream apartment. You spend the whole day painting and building the nursery with your best friend while all your other friend carried your furniture and emptied your boxes full of belongings. 

It was when you took a snack break and sat down on your new sofa to eat that you noticed a couple of faces you hadn’t seen before, helping to set up your new dining table.

It was the day you met Frankie.

——

„Are you sure they are not gonna be mad?“ Frankie’s arm was wrapped around your waist as you walked down the aisle, searching for ice cream. 

„That’s what the ice cream is for,“ you teased and he chuckled before he kissed you. 

A squeal came from your daughter who was in her seat in the shopping cart. Her wide brown eyes looking around in wonder. 

Frankie tickled her belly and she laughed loudly, a couple of people turning their heads towards her joyful laugh.

She was already so big at only seven months old. 

Frankie smiled at you and it still was like your breath hitched every time you looked at him. 

After you moved into your new apartment right across from Frankie’s you started hanging out together. You were both new to the neighbourhood, and while you still had your friends near by, Frankie’s friends (who had been the other three guys in your apartment, helping to set things up) had left his place and Seattle shortly after to get back to their lives. 

It started with you inviting yourself over to dinner when you were positively drooling at the scents coming from his apartment on a daily basis. 

He would tell you about his mother teaching him how to cook when he grew up. 

You went to get groceries together weekly, him helping you carry them, insisting that you had to take it easy, your belly getting bigger by day. 

He was there at night, when you couldn’t sleep because your back hurt. 

He had been there, when your baby moved for the first time. 

He had been there when you were so horny after he kissed you for the first time, you had spend all night desperately seeking pleasure only he could gave you in the end.

And slowly over the months leading up to your due date, you fell in love with each other. 

He had been there with you when your water broke, held your hand while you were in labour, witnessed your daughters first breath and cry, tears in his eyes. 

He was the father to her, you had only dreamed about. 

Your mother absolutely adored him and your brother was jealous. Mostly because Frankie was straight and he was absolutely in love with you. 

You visited Austin regularly. 

And you never told your mother the full story of how you ended up pregnant.

Your mother still asked you occasionally if you’re sure you did not want to move back, but Seattle was now home. Frankie’s best friend Santiago would move to Seattle in the next year and Frankie and you had just bought your first house. It was a fixer upper. It would take some time for it to be finished, but you were absolutely in love with the vision Frankie had for the place. 

You caught the ring on his finger, the ring you put there last week. 

It had been a small wedding. Just your closest friends and a dinner after at your favourite Pizza place. 

He had asked you to marry him on the anniversary of your first meeting and you had said yes without one doubt in your mind. 

That you found an open date at the courthouse for the week after, after jokingly checking for the next date had been a pure accident. 

You both made the decision to just take the date. 

You wanted to be married to him. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. 

At the courthouse you also filed the documents for him to officially adopt your daughter. 

He was the dad you always imagined for her in everything but paper.

But that was only a matter of time now. 

Frankie caught you looking at his ring, the dimple on his cheek deepening as he smiled. He took your hand, his thumb rubbing over your finger before he leaned down and kissed you softly. 

You were in Austin to tell your family in person that you eloped and were married, hoping they wouldn’t be too annoyed with not being invited.

You wanted to shout it from the rooftops, you were so disgustingly happy and in love. 

When you parted from his lips you smiled as you turned your head, looking for the favourite flavour of your mothers ice cream. 

You saw him then. 

Out of the corner from your eyes. 

Joel.

He was starring at you, surprise written clear on his face. 

Frankie was back to entertaining your daughter and Joel’s eyes dropped to the baby giggling up at your husband. 

You could not read Joel’s expression, but when he made an attempt to come closer you shook your head at him. He blinked, stopping right away. 

„We gotta get ice cream for grandma, so she doesn’t kill your dada because he married your mama without telling her,“ Frankie said in a baby voice and you broke away from Joel’s gaze looking at your daughter. She was grabbing Frankie’s finger, her tongue out, a wide smile on her face. 

„No one is killing anyone,“ you said, closing your eyes and letting your head drop against Frankie’s shoulder. 

„You okay?“ He asked. He looked in the direction Joel was still standing, meeting the man’s eyes, having noticed you tense up. 

You took his hand, nodding your head and Frankie looked back at you, checking in. 

„I’m perfectly okay,“ you said with a smile before you kissed him softly, letting him pull you away to look for the ice cream you came here for in the first place. 

[newpathwrites]

Arms Wide Open - Chapter 1

Gods, you touched him - nobody ever did that.  He struggled to appropriately respond, stumbling over his words.  “No, no… there’s no need…” he replied.  Was his voice really high right now?  “I’ve had plenty of near misses with this one…” he gestured toward Grogu.  “So it was my pleasure…”

Pleasure!!??  What a dumb and awkward thing to say…

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Summary: Din didn’t see you coming, or… one fateful trip to the market and a platonic night together changes everything.

Notes: This fic was unexpectedly inspired by the opening scenes of “Anyone but You” - I loved the sweet, companionable dynamic featured in that first night together and imagined Din meeting someone who brought out the lighter side of his personality.  I do not take it on the circuitous route taken in the movie, though.  Din and reader will get their shit together a whole lot quicker here.

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 1.3k

Read on AO3

________________________________________

You had to go… like really bad.

Your first day of work in the field office on Nevarro had gone quite well, but there had been one teensy little problem.  You had no clue where to find the freaking fresher and nobody around after lunchtime to ask.  So you held it.  All day.

There wasn’t even enough time to run home to your small cabin on the outskirts of town when you finally left in the early evening.  Your bladder was about to burst at the seams.

You looked around as you exited the building for any establishment likely to have customer facilities before running across the street to a small indoor market as quickly as your feet could carry you, praying to the Maker that you could manage to hold it for just a few more minutes.

Upon entering, you grabbed the first item within your line of sight, a small loaf of bread, and booked it to the checkout line…

…which traversed the entire length of the store.

Kriff.  

Time to resort to begging.

“Excuse me, sir?” you attempted, approaching the cashier who was busy with a customer.  “May I use your fresher?  I promise I’ll buy this.  I just really have to go… like immediately.”

He didn’t even look in your direction.  “You pay first, then you get to use the fresher.”

“Please,” you begged, crossing your legs in a vain attempt to keep the urine at bay.

He simply pointed behind him to a sign which read ‘Fresher for Paying Customers Only’.

“Damn it!” you exclaimed in frustration, then muttering to yourself under your breath.  “I’m going to wet my pants.  And then I’ll have to walk all the way home like that.  Fuck!”

“She’s with me,” you heard a distinctly staticy male voice say somewhere behind you.  “I’ll buy the bread, too.  Let her go to the fresher.”

You turned to see what stranger had intervened on your behalf.  

A Mandalorian - decked out in full armor and faceless, metal visage with a small, green child in his arms.  You’d never expected such a contradictory sight, but who were you to question it?  This man just saved your dignity.

The young cashier, suddenly alert and attentive, subtly bowed in the man’s direction.  “Of course, Mr. Djarin.  I didn’t know she was with you.”  The teenager finally looked at you and thrust a key in your face.  “Go ahead, ma’am.”

You took it without ceremony despite your annoyance with the boy, and even as you rushed to the back of the store, you took a moment to mouth a sincere ‘thank you’ to the mysterious man who subtly nodded back in recognition of your gratitude.

________________________________________

Damned Grogu’s cute face.  Nobody could resist it - not even the teenage attendant behind the register who offered the child free samples of those kriffing blue cookies.

Din didn’t dare refuse.  If he did, the treat would find its way into Grogu’s mouth instead by way of the force which he still preferred his son not use around aruetti.

As they sat at a small table in the dining area of the store, Din’s thoughts turned back to you - the desperate woman he’d never seen before begging to use the fresher.  Did you not know about the public facilities right in the center of town?  What were you even doing here in Nevarro?  It wasn’t exactly a bustling tourist destination.  

Perhaps he needed to do some sleuthing, make sure you weren’t a threat.  

It couldn’t possibly be that he just wanted to know more about you… your age… marital status… No, of course not.  He was just Nevarro’s sworn protector… It was his job… obviously…

The fact that you were both beautiful and appeared appropriately middle aged like himself had absolutely nothing to do with it.

“Mister… Djarin…?”

Din was startled out of his musings by your voice and looked up to see your lovely face beaming at him.

“Thank you again for your help,” you started, taking one of his gloved hands in yours for a moment before letting go.  “Stars, I’m so embarrassed… But please, let me pay for your groceries.  You can even keep the bread - I didn’t even need it.”

Gods, you touched him - nobody ever did that.  He struggled to appropriately respond, stumbling over his words.  “No, no… there’s no need…” he replied.  Was his voice really high right now?  “I’ve had plenty of near misses with this one…” he gestured toward Grogu.  “So it was my pleasure…”

Pleasure!!??  What a dumb and awkward thing to say…

To his great embarrassment (and relief), you laughed.  “I suppose it’s not every day you get to save a grown woman from wetting her pants.”  Ah, so you were funny, too… not that he was keeping track of your attractive qualities…

Grogu, bless him, intervened then to save his father’s dignity, reaching out to you with a cookie in hand.

“Why, thank you, little one.  I would love a cookie.”  You took it from him and placed it in your pocket.  “I’m not hungry right now, but this will be a very fine dessert after my dinner tonight.”  

Good with kids - check… and smart enough not to actually eat something that had been in Grogu’s grubby hands.

The child made a series of hand gestures in response, and Din was forced to translate.  “He says ‘you’re welcome’ and…”  A sigh emanated from the vocoder.  “... he wants to know where you came from…  Grogu, she doesn’t even know us.  We shouldn’t ask personal questions.”  Says the man who wanted to investigate your background.

Din looked back up at you apologetically before adding, “I’m sorry - he’s very curious.  You don’t have to answer that.”  But he hoped you would.

You smiled - and stars, he might die if this conversation didn’t end soon.  He was getting redder and redder under the visor.

“Well, Grogu, it’s very nice to meet you.  I am new here, just started a job directing the agricultural field office - see if we can get more vegetation growing so that Nevarro never goes hungry for healthy produce.”  So you were smart, too… check…  “Today was my first day, and silly person that I am, I let everyone go early to enjoy the pleasant weather before they could show me where the fresher was located…”  And kind… another check… not that he was counting or anything.

Grogu gave her a toothy grin in response - he found this woman quite nice and funny.

“They’re uhmmm…” Din started. Why was he struggling so much to speak?  “They’re in the building next to the magistrate’s office - public facilities…”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, knocking yourself lightly on the forehead.  “That makes a lot of sense.  Thank you.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly.  “You’re welcome…”

You stared back at him serenely for just a moment, sparking his heart rate, before holding out your hand.  “I’m Flora… nickname…”

Din’s hand moved to take yours of its own accord, and he responded dumbly, “Din… real name…”  Maker…

Grogu looked up at him through scrunched eyes for a moment before bursting into a delightful fit of childish giggles, and you couldn’t help following suit.  Din finally gave in, allowing himself to take this all as lightly as you were, despite his humiliation with the entire interaction, chuckling softly under the helmet.

Din didn’t have many light moments like this.  Could he have more?

“Din… and Grogu…” you said as you regained your composure.  “It was very nice to meet you.  Thank you again for helping me out.  I hope we run into each other… often.”  Well, that sounded promising… and terrifying…

He didn’t trust himself to say anything more, so he simply nodded as you turned away and walked out the door.

The moment you were out of sight, Grogu began furiously signing in his direction.

Din sighed - Grogu was too insightful for his own good.  “Yes, kid, I like her…  No, we can’t follow her - that’s creepy…  Yes, I know I do that all the time, but those are bounties - not innocent women… Stars… ok, fine…”

________________________________________

Next chapter

[lovelaurs]

Please do it I would love to read a fic about freaking Laurence getting his glass prescription or something like that. ( also i head cannon laur has such bad vision and he has to wear grandpa glasses) 

AN EYE FOR DETAIL

featuring : laurance, cadenza, & castor synopsis : cadenza convinces laurance to finally get glasses. but when they arrive for his appointment, something seems a bit off about this optometrist. tags : poor eyesight laurance, eye care, getting glasses, silly shenanigans, traumatized forever word count : 1.3k a/n : as someone who has incredibly bad eyesight and refused to wear my glasses for years, i figured, "hey, why don't i project my issues onto laurance?". well, that's what i did. the man has poor eyesight now. enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“I’m not wearing them, Cadenza!”

Laurance yelled, staring daggers at the pair of glasses within his sister’s hands.

“I mean- just look at it! It’s practically a relic!”

The glasses in question were his Grandfather’s; as they were very ancient looking in appearance. A lot was simply wrong about these spectacles: a slight crack had formed on the left lens, along with the hinges being extremely loose, and not to mention the thing just overall looking like it was from the 1960s.

In short? They sucked.

“Look, Laurance. I wouldn’t have to force you to wear these if you simply just, oh I don’t know, went to the eye doctor?” Cadenza put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrow at the brunette.

Laurance twitched at the thought.

The eye doctor? Like hell he was going to the Optometrist!

Ever since he got pink eye when he was younger after playing with the pigs on his farm, he had always been afraid of the optometrist. 

When he went in initially for a consultation all those years ago; the tools, lenses, and prescriptions freaked him out. Of course, he only needed eyedrops, so he wasn’t in dire need for any specific treatment, but still… The very idea of it horrified the poor man.

His eyes had always been sensitive.

The smallest eyelash, a drop of water, the slightest amount of soap from the shower; any of these things would easily bring the man to his knees in defeat. Hell, even seeing blurry or smudges through glasses would make his eyes water. 

He was pretty vulnerable.

That is why this man downright refused to get his eyes checked.

The concept of looking through a possibly blurry lens just sends chills up his spine. Even though the action was needed to help prescribe the exact lenses he needed to see better, he just couldn’t bear it.

“I just- I can’t go, alright! That place freaks me out!” Laurance crossed his arms, raising his head in defiance.

Cadenza sighed, pulling out her phone. “If you don’t come with me to get glasses… I’ll text our dads to not allow you to babysit Caleb for a month.”

Laurance gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She flipped her phone over to Laurance, showing him the already typed out message she planned to send to Joh and Hayden. “Try me.”

Within the next hour, the two scheduled an appointment.

About a month later, Laurance was nervously pacing on the sidewalk outside a building named “Castor’s Eye Care”.

The brunette began to bite his nails nervously as Cadenza grabbed her purse from the car, rolling her eyes. She closed the car door behind her before walking up to her brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Laurance. It’ll be fine.”

“You’ll stay with me the whole time, right?”

At that, Cadenza winced. “Well… um…”

Laurance’s eyes widened before he covered his face with his hands. “Oh Irene, you’re leaving me.”

She released his shoulder, shaking her hands. “No, not at all! I’ll still be in the building with you, but I need to get my own reading glasses repaired.”

She started to walk towards the door, until she turned around to find Laurance standing in the same spot. 

“Clock’s ticking, Laurance. Come on!” She looped her arm through his and dragged him along as he groaned.

As they stepped into the bright building, Laurance was immediately overwhelmed by just how many pairs of glasses there were across the walls.

Laurance looked around, his nerves starting to get to him, while Cadenza approached the desk to check them in. The generic pop music playing over the speakers was not helping in the slightest

After making sure they were ready for their appointments, Cadenza sat down on the bench by the window and patted the other side, silently asking Laurance to join her.

He sat down beside her, his leg shaking up and down as he kept his eyes focused on the door. Something in the back of his mind wished that the hinges would break, causing it to shut tight forever.

He never wanted to see beyond that very door.

Unfortunately, life seemed to always go against the poor brunette, as the door swiftly opened to reveal an older man with frizzled hair and a bandana. He looked around, almost confused, before his eyes landed on Laurance.

The man pointed at Laurance sternly, then motioned for him to come over.

Laurance nervously looked at Cadenza who nodded and pushed him out of the chair, causing Laurance to stumble forward. She smiled, speaking through her teeth, “Get your ass in there now or so help me, Laurance.”

With that, Laurance quickly made his way over to the curious looking optometrist, following him into the room.

The man motioned for him to sit on the chair, to which Laurance quietly complied; adjusting onto the leather chair with frantic nerves.

What didn’t help his anxiety were the countless pictures of chickens across the room’s walls.

Why were there so many chickens?

As the somewhat odd man began funneling through the cabinets, seeming to be looking for something, Laurance thought it best to break the tension with some small talk.

“So… how long have you been an eye doctor for?” He asked. He winced at the feedback that came from the song Toxic by Britney Spears playing obnoxiously through the telecom above. 

“Ah, well, only a few weeks! Can you believe how easy it is to get a license in this sort of thing- aha found it!”

What.

As it seemed the man found the tool he was looking for, he whipped around to face Laurance with it in hand.

He was going to die here, wasn’t he?

Laurance tugged at his collar nervously, his leg continuing to bounce. “Wow that’s uh… certainly fast, Mr…?”

“Mr. Castor!”

Oh gods.

The building was named Castor’s Eye Care… this newly graduated doctor had finished his lessons and rented out a building all within the same month.

Laurance silently repeated prayers to Irene in his head as Castor approached, mysterious tool in hand. His eyes seemed to focus too bluntly on the object as Castor followed his line of sight to it. He quickly averted his eyes to one of the many pictures of chickens hanging about.

“Ah, this old thing?” He motioned at the tool. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to fear! I’ve only been officially certified for a few weeks, but I’ve been doing this sort of thing in the Black Market for years!”

Black Market?! Who the hell allowed this guy to start a business?!

“Now, let’s take a look at those pretty green eyes of yours, shall we?”

His eyes were blue. He couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes– oh my Irene he was done for.

About an hour later, an absolutely horrified Laurance walked out of the room, his eyes blown wide in horror, red veins visible as Dr. Castor gave him a pat on the back.

“You did very well, Laurance! I can’t wait to see you back here to pick up your glasses in a few weeks!”

He has to come back?!

Laurance awkwardly laughed loudly, backing away while giving finger guns to the man. “G-Great! Can’t wait!”

The brunette quickly turned around, his eyes landing on Cadenza who was waiting by the bench, waving. She stood up and put her new glasses case in her purse before approaching Laurance.

“Ah, Laurance! You’re finally done! How was it-”

Without a second thought, Laurance pulled her by the arm and quickly raced out the store. 

When the two made it to their car, Laurance had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“Laurance? What’s wrong?”

“Britney Spears. Chickens. Black Market. Crazy.” He panted out the words, taking long pauses between each one. He quickly raised his head, looking Cadenza dead in the eyes.

“I’m never going back there again.”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Behind the nickname

Summary: Scotty as mamy nicknames from the people around her. But it seems like a pattern or an unspoken rule revolves around some of them. One particular. Ghost is about to find out the meaning of it.

Warning: None

Words: 1.3k // Masterlist

A/N: This was supposed to be a very small fic, turning into an above the 1k one. Welp. Also, although it is in my plan to visit Keukenhof (I tried this year but schedule didn't work out BUT next year for sure!) I haven't gone yet and so I was very vague on the description of it. Not helped that timeline wise they would have visited in 1997, what did the park even looked like back then?! Anyway, just a little fluff fic! Oh, Scotty's kid/baby pictures are inspired by my own.

“Auntie, what was the thing I was supposed to say if grandma was about to embarass you?” Nicolas asked as soon as his head popped in the door frame of the kitchen.

Camille lifted her head from the drawing she was making with Mathéo, rather confused. “I don’t remember, why?”

“Grandma is about to show an album to Uncle Ghost.”

“What! SHI- Mom!” Camille dropped her pen, jumped off the chair as if it was on fire, the said chair creaking loudly on the floor. The woman passed her nephew, almost shoved him out of the way in the wall. “Sorry Nic!” The two brothers looked at each other confused. 

Scotty arrived in the living room out of breath, hands crisped on the doorframe and sadly too late. Suzanne was seated with Ghost next to her, him half bent to check on the album she had placed on her and his laps. He lifted his head, a grin behind his mask. Despite being considered family, he wasn’t too comfortable yet to show more of his face. Yet she could still see the glimpse of amusement in his eyes when their gaze crossed. “A little hippie? That’s adorable.” 

“Shut it, Riley. That was for the carnaval, my mom did a great job on the costume.” Scotty rolled her eyes and joined them. She saw the picture he was commenting on. She was maybe five or six, all smiling with baggy pants and white long sleeve shirt, a too big headband on her forehead decorated with a peace sign, and a necklace with an even bigger one. In retrospective, she found herself ridiculous in this, however Ghost wasn’t so wrong, it was also adorable.

“Oh wait, this one is my favorite!” Suzanne said pointing at a picture on the next page. On this one Scotty was around the age of two, a cup of chocolate mousse in her hand and a nice little chocolate mustache on her face. “Her first time trying mousse. It was a mess to clean.”

“Mom, please!”

“Don’t be so embarrassed, tulip.” Henri chimed in from behind his newspaper. “She hasn’t shown him you naked in your first bath at least. Well, not like the young man hasn't seen you naked already.”

“Papa!” Scotty almost shrieked, face turning red.

“Henri! Pour l’amour de Dieu!” For the love of God. Her mother agreed on the boldness her husband just showed. The glare she gave him meant a thousand words. He cleared his throat and adjusted his newspaper, making himself as small as he could in the seat. Ghost was sitting there with a smile spread on his face. It was funny to see them like this. However, a little something caught his attention and the question burned his tongue. It wasn’t the first time he heard them calling her that way. Actually it seemed they were the only ones to do it. He never heard her sister or nephews use it.

“Why do you call her tulip?” He simply asked. There was a small silence. Not the awkward kind. The look Camille gave to her mom silently begged her to not tell the whole story. But the woman had none of it. She waved at her daughter to take a seat because if this man wanted to know the story behind the nickname he would have the whole story.

“It was her first word.”

*****

It has been a long road trip from their town to the Netherlands. Especially with two young kids. Luckily one of them slept almost the entire three hour ride. Gabrielle was getting restless near the end and as soon as the car stopped in the parking lot she was ready to jump out and stretch her legs. She was already working on the seatbelt keeping her restrained. Her mother was quick to tell her to wait till her dad would do it. Suzanne stretched her back, went on the other side of the car and took care of the baby who was slowly waking up from her slumber. 

Anyone would have wondered why a florist who would see flowers on the daily, work with them, arrange bouquets for all occasions five days a week would want to travel such a long distance to see flowers. Simply because Keukenhof had a reputation to have one of the best gardens of many species of plants. Although mainly known for its field of tulips, her favorite. 

It had been awhile since the whole family had been able to do something together, for once that Henri was home, Suzanne appreciated having all her loved ones together. To make it a better day, the sun was shining bright, not a single cloud in the sky. She couldn’t ask for anything better. Little Camille started to wiggle in her seat, smiling as her mother lifted her up and placed her in the scarf. The woman wrapped the rest around and secured the cloth in her back. Her daughter was facing away from her so she could see the world around them. Once everyone was ready, the family headed to the entrance eager to start their walk in the park and see what beauty it had to offer. Gabrielle held both her parents' hands, skipping happily as they walked down the path, already seeing some beautiful composition and arrangement here and there. The mix of different colors was pretty making up for very nice pictures. Henry took a few of them hoping they would turn out good once developed. He was never the best photographer in the family. 

“Mom, when do baby speak? Because all Camille does is…” She imitated the babbling her sister always did. Camille wiggled in the scarf with a small laughter. 

“It depends, but probably soon.” Her mother replied. Suzanne was stroking the baby’s cheek and Camille was more than eager to bite on her finger. Her mother’s reaction made both girls giggle. The family kept walking around till they found themselves in front of a small field of tulips. Suzanne’s favorite. 

Gabrielle went ahead to check on the small pond followed by her father who better keep an eye on her. The wind gently blew in the field, allowing some sensation of cool as the day was getting hotter. For a spring day, it was warmer than expected. Carefully, Suzanne crouched at the flowers level. Gently her fingers brushed on the soft petals. Camille whined a little from the change of position before extending her arms, trying to grab at the flowers. The woman moved her out of the scarf to be more comfortable sitting on her laps. “Carefully sweetie. They are pretty, aren’t they? These are tulips.”

“Too-pip!”

“What?” Suzanne looked at her daughter surprised. Camille repeated the word, hand reaching for the flower. It suddenly hit her that she just spoke her first word! A wide smile grew on her lips and called up her husband, happy to share the news! 

*****

“It’s Henry who then started to call her Tulip afterwards. It became our nickname for her.” Suzanne’s fingers lingered on a picture of a baby Camille sitting with a background of tulip. “Surprisingly, Camille grew to also love these flowers. Alright I think I embarrassed her enough for today.” She closed the album, put it back where it belonged, just in time when her grandkids came to ask if they could go buy some ice cream to the store. Scotty proposed herself and Ghost to take them. It would be nice to take a breath of fresh air, they could easily walk there.

As the two boys walked four steps ahead of them, Ghost leaned closer to her, his hand taking hers. 

“Too-pip uh? That's a good call sign, I like it.” He teased. 

“Don’t you even dare mention this to anyone. This is between you and me, you take this to your grave!”

“As you wish, Too-pip.” Scotty elbowed him hard in the side, but it was worth the laugh.

[sllverchariot]

Get to You (Polnareff x Reader) Chapter Sixteen

You're a bright eyed and ambitious Anthropology student, just setting off for the international vacation of your dreams. Just days into your trip, however, you encounter a devious and charming man who would set into motion a string of events that would change your life forever, for better or for worse. ♡ word count - 1.3k ♡ warnings - some brief mentions of previous trauma/emotional abuse/manipulation/cheating ♡ notes - this is crossposted on ao3 under the same username as here, updates are far more frequent over there, so if you're interested in more i suggest checking it out on there as well! thank u to everyone who has given this a read so far ♡ this fic follows the events of stardust crusaders with some changes obviously. enjoy!!!

The days had blurred together completely. Most of the time you weren’t sure if you were really awake or if you were still sleeping. Your whole world seemed like it was covered in a wash of gray, despite the warm sun filtering in through the cracks in the curtains. It had only been a few days since you left egypt, you’re pretty sure, but every passing minute felt like hours. 

You just spent your days in bed, maybe flipping through the channels on TV, and sleeping. So much sleeping. On a good day, you’d crawl out of bed and slink to the corner store for some food. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d let your life fall into disrepair like this. There were countless other times where your hopeless romanticism would lead you to heartbreak, and you’d be able to do nothing but rot in bed. 

You thought you were finally past all this foolishness. You’d grown up. You were a big girl, following your passions, going all alone to other countries just because your heart called you to. Your fleeting lovesickness was supposed to be left behind, finally having learned your lesson from one too many broken hearts, and worse. 

But this go around was different. It wasn’t just that your little feelings were hurt. It wasn’t just that you’d gotten your hopes up or twisted yourself into thinking you were more than just what you had to give. You’d found people who really, truly understood you. People you could relate to on a level deeper than you ever thought possible. An unshakeable connection.

And now it was just gone, in the blink of an eye.

One day, you would pack up again, and go home. Back to whatever was waiting for you now. 

You supposed at some point, in the distant future, it wouldn’t hurt so much. It had to. That would have to be the one thread of hope you’d hang on to, whenever the crushing weight on your shoulders became a little lighter and you felt like you could move again. 

But for now you’d just lay here, and let the memories replay over and over again, until you were sure you wouldn’t forget a thing.

-

Somewhere in the blur, you fell asleep again. You must have been asleep for some time, judging by the sunlight now creeping into your room. You shuffled in your bed, turning over to get a glimpse of the clock sitting on the nightstand.

6:10 AM, it read.

You groaned, and pulled the covers over your head, nestling deeper into your fortress. You lay there for a minute. And then a minute more. Until several minutes had passed, and you were just becoming more and more awake. 

Maybe this was a sign. Your body’s way of telling you to get your shit together. 

You threw the blankets off of your head in a dramatic movement, and sat up. 

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, and rose to your feet. You were feeling strangely good.

You walked over to the window, and tugged the curtains open, letting the light flood in, illuminating the disgusting state the room was in. 

The light stung your eyes, and you squinted, your mind slowly registering just how much of a dumpster you’d been living in. Your clothes were everywhere, wrappers and containers and old food in a pile next to the bed. You groaned.

You grabbed the tiny trashcan on the floor by the desk, and started throwing things inside until it was stuffed to the brim. When you were done, you gently placed it back in its spot, careful not to topple the mountain of garbage.

You collected all your clothes, and went through them one by one to find out what was really clean, tossing your dirty clothes back in your suitcase and putting the clean ones in the dresser.

You were taking the day today, taking your life back today. Something in the air was different, or maybe something in you was different.

You got in the shower, your first real shower since leaving the hospital. You let the warm water sting your wound, finally taking a good look at it. It was healing nicely, pink around the scab signaling the growth of new skin. It still looked a little gnarly right now, but one day it would just be a memory. A scar, your only physical proof of the journey you went on. 

It was a long, hot shower, and you allowed it to wash away the curse of the past several days, as if resetting your body and letting you start a new chapter. You hummed whatever song popped in your head, scrubbing away at the physical and metaphorical dirt that had gathered.

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening to you. It was like a switch had flipped inside of you. It was a little worrying. But you were really into hidden messages, so maybe you were allowing yourself to run wild with the idea that not being able to fall back asleep this morning was some great powerful sign from the universe.

After your shower, you got dressed. You put on a nice, light dress. Cool, comfortable. You put on jewelry, along with that silly, (still empty) locket you purchased, and your new knit sweater. You even put on makeup, and styled your hair. 

You would go out today. You’d walk around. You would enjoy the day for whatever it had to offer. You’d go to that coffee shop down the street that was always closed whenever you managed to trudge out of bed before. 

-

When you finally left the hotel, you just wandered for awhile, letting the wind guide you. You walked for some time, popping your head into places here and there. You got a few souvenirs for yourself, and you bought a journal. And eventually, you made your way to the cafe you promised yourself you’d go to, and you just sat outside watching the world go by.

You scribbled in your new journal, drew a few pictures, and wrote down as much of your memories as you could. Every fight, every interaction, every meeting, every moment. You let the words pour out through the tip of your pen, so you’d always have something physical to look back on if your mind grew fuzzy.

As you wrote, you bit back the tears starting to gather. Everything felt like a century ago, but somehow also felt like just yesterday. 

When it all got to be too much, you put the notebook down and just watched. Looking on as everything happened around you, reminding you why you ever went on your trip in the first place. 

Just a girl, eager to see the rest of the world and everything everywhere had to offer.

You stayed there like that until the late afternoon, when the coffee shop you were stationed at started to pack up and close.

You returned to the hotel to find a clean room, having finally removed the do not disturb sign hanging on the door. Fresh sheets on the bed and clean towels in the bathroom. You kicked off your shoes and crawled into the bed, pulling out one of the books you’d brought along but never had a chance to start. You left the window open, enjoying the sounds of the city outside, and eventually your busy day and early morning caught up to you. Despite the sun still glimmering in the sky, you fell asleep, book sprawled open on your chest.

-

You awoke with a jolt, sitting up in bed and letting the book slide off of you onto the mattress. The room was dark now, the sun long since set. You tried to get your bearings as you shifted to being awake. Finally, as your brain turned on again, you realized just what it was that pulled you out of unconsciousness.

The phone was ringing. 

You lazily reached out to grab it, assuming the front desk must be calling you about something. You placed the receiver to your ear, still blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“Hello?” You questioned, voice still raspy.

“(Y/n)?” Came the voice on the other end, and your breath caught in your throat. 

It was Joseph.