#maybe todays the day where i finally get a buzzcut

[sludgeguzzler]

thinking of dyeing my hair blue

[emmalandry]

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ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕪 ℂ𝕝𝕦𝕓 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝 ~ 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 (ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎)

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𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕄𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕣𝕦𝕘 𝕦𝕤𝕖, 𝕊𝕖𝕩, ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘? 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥:𝟙.𝟝𝕜 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪?

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Barry had seen you around the island always with your fellow kooks, mostly his most frequent customer. Rafe Cameron. A few months back Rafe brought you with him to do a deal with Barry. He always thought you were a young, sexy, smart yet naive girl. Hanging around all the wrong people. You shouldn't be around people like Rafe or Topper and you most definitely shouldn't be hanging around him. But ever since that day you traveled deep into the cut with Rafe to visit Barry did you find yourself drawn to him.

Asking Rafe if he knew when Barry was making his rare journeys down to figure 8 just so you could wear your shortest yet most elegant sundresses along with your tiny shorts and crop tops hoping Barry would want to sneak a peak at your body. Today was no different, It had been about a month since Barry last traveled down to Figure 8 to do business with Rafe. Rafe was away on family business so he gave you some cash and asked if you'd be so kind as to wait for Barry at his home so you could get Rafe what he so desperately needed. Coke.

You, of course, being the darling girl that you are agreed to do such a thing for your best friend. Definitely no ulterior motives. You opted for a brand-new sundress deciding to forgo a bra...or panties. The dress was light purple with small white flowers, falling slightly just below your ass. One wrong move and anyone 'By anyone meaning Barry' would see your bare cunt on full display. You sit on the porch swing outside of Tanneyhill awaiting the arrival of Barry. Your thighs clenched together at the thought of what might happen whilst you two are alone.

Finally, you hear it, in the distance you can hear the faint sound of Barry's motorbike. Smoothing your dress down on top of your thighs you waited anxiously. Barry comes to a stop in front of the porch of Tanneyhill removing his helmet and smoothing his hand over his fresh new buzzcut. The last time you saw Barry he was still sporting his man bun and although he looked good then, he looked even better now. You could feel your arousal pooling onto the porch swing. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, he looked...confused? Did Rafe not tell him you were filling in for him?

"Hiya Barry!" flashing him a bright smile. You looked so sweet and innocent to him. So perfect...Like a porcelain doll that he was aching to break. "Hey, Princess Where's Country Club?" you bite your lower lip gently. "Didn't he tell you?" "Tell me what Princess?" he asked lowly. God his voice made you slick. "He's on the mainland doing business for the day...he asked me if I could get him what he needed from you." 'and maybe I can get what I need from you' you thought to yourself. He thought for a moment before nodding. "Alright, pretty girl...lead the way." You got up from your position on the porch swing and held out your hand leading him inside.

Swaying your hips in the hope of drawing his attention to your body. The Bottom half of your ass poking out of the oh-so-short dress you picked just for this occasion. His eyes drifted to your ass. Were you not wearing any panties? He asked himself as you lead him up to the spare room you always stayed in at Tanneyhill. "The Money's just right in my room here." You giggle to yourself as you see his hard-on begin to grow in his shorts. You enter the room and let go of his hand walking to your desk and opening the drawer and bending down giving him the perfect view of your leaking cunt. He lets out a low groan as you turn your head around giving him a look that was asking 'Did I do something wrong?'

You wiggle your hips a little and before you can even take another breath Barry's behind you on his knees. Pushing your top half against the desk as he takes his fingers and runs them along your slit. "Fuck, baby. You're soaked. This all for me?" You let out a whimper as his hand slid toward your clit drawing lazy circles as he pressed his tongue flat against your core. Licking a stripe up from the bottom to the top. Your mouth falls open but no noise besides a strangled breath comes out. He devours your pussy at an agonizingly slow pace before inserting his middle finger inside you. Pumping and curling it in and out of you "More..Please..Need More." you force out biting your lip to hide the loud moan threatening to slip out.

He decides to play nice and give you what you want. He inserts his ring finger alongside his middle one and picks up the pace he's pumping his fingers at. You let out an almost pornographic moan as your eyes roll back and your legs start to fall limp as your pussy clenches around his fingers. "You gonna Cum princess? You gonna cum just for daddy?" "Yes! Fuck Please...Need to cum...Wanna cum so bad." you let out another moan as he moves his thumb to your clit drawing circles quickly against your bundle of nerves.

and with that, you cum. All over his tongue and his fingers as he pulls his fingers out causing you to wince at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He lifts you up by your thighs laying you back onto the bed. He's quick to pull himself out of his shorts and boxers as his hard cock slaps against his belly. Your eyes go wide, you don't know if you've ever taken anyone this big before. He lines his cock up with your entrance rubbing it through your slick hitting your puffy clit causing you to whine. "You ready sweet thing? You think you can be a good girl and take my whole cock?" you nod biting your lip. "Words pretty girl...use your words." "Yes sir. Need your cock in me so bad. Please." and with one swift motion he's inside you, balls deep pumping himself in and out of your tight cunt.

"Fuck Baby, No one's fucked you this good before hm? No one's been able to stretch out this cunt the way I am now. I'm gonna be the only one who can see you like this ever again. Understand?" He grabs you by the throat squeezing lightly before sucking and marking your neck. You gasp at the feeling of him sucking your sweet spot. "You gonna be a good girl and answer me or are you gonna be a bad girl? If you're a bad girl I'll have to punish you, princess...Daddy doesn't want to have to hurt his girl..." His Girl..."Yes, Daddy. Only you can use me. Make me feel so full." You let out a choked moan as the coil in your tummy begins to build. Feeling like it's about to rupture at any moment.

"Need to cum. Need to cum all over your cock so bad Daddy, please. Let me cum. I've been such a good girl." he releases your grip on your throat moving his hand down to rub your clit once more "C-cant sir. It's-is too much." your backs now arching off the bed, eyes rolling back into your head. "You said you needed to cum, then cum pretty girl. I'm right behind you I promise...Let go for me, baby." and with that you snap. Gushing fluid all over his cock and pelvis as he continues to pump himself in and out of you before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.

You look up at him with your doe eyes and pouty lips "Wanted you to finish inside me, daddy. deserved it. was so good for you." you frown and he chuckles. Brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. "Next time baby, I promise." He leans down to finally kiss your lips and you savor the taste of yourself on his tongue. Pulling away lips swollen and out of breath. "That was...Amazing." you manage to huff out. He chuckles once more "Been waiting to feel you for awhile now princess. been needing to feel you round' my cock." You give him one of your signature bright smiles as he walks to the attached bathroom to retrieve a washcloth to clean you up. He curls up next to you pulling the covers on top of the both of you as he softly strokes your hair.

Just as you're about to drift asleep your eyes shoot open. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed with a look of confusion in his eyes. "Somethin' the matter baby?" "It's just...What does this mean for us...What are we?" you tilt your head down just for him to grip your jaw and lift your face up until your eyes meet his. "Well if it's not too big of a problem id like to be able to have you with me, always on my arm. So I guess I'm asking if you'll be my girlfriend?" you smile and bite your lower lip, nodding excitedly. "Of course I will Barry!" you lean up and peck him on the lips before cuddling into his side and drifting off to sleep.

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[r3g-p14y3r]

…Okay so I may have added a lil tag for my attempts at writing… I got a tad bit more confidence in myself now thanks to online friends and their lovely energy over the months I’ve known them, enough for me to not hesitate posting this as much as I would’ve long ago.

Here, have this thing I finished— checks Notes app— at 12:16 AM today! It’s of my OCs that I once built up six years ago. My memory has all but continued to crumble since then, so I don’t remember much about them. I do know they were close to my heart though, so I tried writing them after such a long while; I didn’t draw since all I can remember clearly are their eyes. Keep in mind I made this while sleepy, and sleepy me is a more incoherent me.

“Jasper.”

The low timbre of the overgrown fish’s voice interrupts his thoughts. Err stands there, like always, with his hands clasped in front of him and with a slight frown to his face. Those eyes may be protected by that blindfold, but he doesn’t need to see them to know they hold sympathy.

Pity.

Sympathy?

Pity?

Oh, he won’t bother trying to tell the difference now. All that matters to Jasper is that he knows, he knows the fool is worried about him once again— and again, he reminds, he reaffirms that he’s alright. He’s fine! Nothing is wrong. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

“You’ve been…avoiding conversation again. It’s unlike you-“ There’s that voice again. That nagging, oh so insistent voice that won’t stop caring, won’t stop loving, won’t stop-

“I’m fine, pal,” Jasper curtly responds. “It’s just stuff. Stuff I should’ve been…” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t know, more careful with.” The place where auburn curls used to be sits shaven, and even now he tries running his hands through said curls out of habit, only to find nothing but a buzzcut. Right. He forgot. He forgot.

The cushion to his left sinks with the weight of another, and he lifts his head from where it was fixed on the floor to find that blasted face in his once more. “You are reckless, as usual,” comes the fishstick’s next words, “as well as stubborn, and guarded. If you don’t want to tell me what happened that day, I won’t pry any further.”

The human scoffs when he feels a webbed hand cup his cheek along with that nonsensical sentence. “That’s sweet, but pry? Err, you didn’t even get two sentences out and you call that prying? Oh please,” he mumbles. Regardless, he leans into the touch and shuts his eyes.

So gentle. So warm. Why does the fish think he has to walk on eggshells all the time? He himself knows the answer to that. They both know. Neither address it.

Jasper sighs and lets the world come into view again to stare at those shrouded, vibrant eyes. Left grey, right violet. He remembers. He can remember that at least. Neither are complete. Neither are whole— such is the reason Err wears the stupid thing out of shame.

Now that he thinks of it, can Err even see at all without the fabric? He’s never asked. Hm. A question for another time.

“But yeah, I don’t feel like talking about it right now… maybe another time,” he finally admits. Too many thoughts, too many choices, too many of so much. He can’t deal with much more, and he hopes his friend doesn’t mind.

“Of course,” is the gentle assurance.

[miloo-o]

231211 TaeJoon's Enlistment Day 😔

Wow, their turn is finally come. I never imagine I would witnessed this moment, Taehyung and especially my bias Kim Namjoon, entered the training center to start their military service 😭.

Namjoon on buzzcut from a long time ago, him talking about their plan to enlist together at the end of this year on his birthday, it's 3 months ago. I think I would be ready and all okay on the day he enlist but guess who can't stop crying now?? 😔💔

Since the original post on Weverse hasn't translated well so I'm just gonna drop the Namjoon's letter translation from ARMY translator here.

"Wishing that this will touch you even just a little bit"

What's makes you think your letters done nothing to us, Kim Namjoon??!!! My heart start getting hurt once I got the notification 😭😭😭.

And this is Taehyung's letter:

Jimin just did a live today after shaving his head. He said that Namjoon and Taehyung entering with smile. That info is enough. I hope they're okay in there.

I think it's around 12pm when the Twitter timeline start talked about news content that said BTS member is entering the location. Gladly there's no fans that gathered in there, just as BTS asked on live to not to go there. But some solo's sending a bus instead to cheer them up. Guess who we've been missing and manifesting to be on ot7 picture today.

Feels like I never saw him for years. He getting more cute 😭. At least we can see him together with the members on the pict.

And there they are. Bragging about their position in the military. Seokjin is a Sergeant meanwhile Hobi is a Corpral. Seokjin just shared a funny short story on Weverse 😂:

It's always him who dragged ARMY out from the deep sadness. He really don't let anyone cry 😭.

The caption said "Don't get hurt and go safely my babies~". Yes he just called TaeJoon his babies 🥺. And I just realized that they're Kim Brothers.

The maknae line ✨️. Jimin and Jungkook will enlist tomorrow since they registered together to the same location. Anyway I saw a video on TikTok that explain about this partner system. Apparently there are some soldiers that dead from suicide because of the pressure during their military service. That's why the government decided to created this system where people can choose to registered with one friend. But the consequences is the location might be so far away from Seoul.

Seems like so many of their friends come to send them off. Their family of course, Namjoon team, Taehyung's high-school friends. Seems like Wooga squad just met-up the day berfore on Taehyung's.

*Jungkook just started a Weverse live now by the way. I think it's gonna be short.

Forgot to mention about the song Namjoon shared on his IG story. Goodbye by Sanullim. Kinda surprise because the song released on 1986 like how did he found it? But since he's a musician and maybe the song is popular in South Korea so... The first time I listened to this song, I cried a lot. I don't fully understand the lyrics but it makes me cried so much😭😭💔💔💔💔. The song is sang by kids on on the first and then by the singer. Here's the translated lyrics:

Annyeong (hi/bye)

My cute friend

When the boat horn sounds in the distance you cry without anyone knowing

Alone at night when everyone is asleep

Annyeong (hi/bye)

My little love

When the stars shine far away

you talk without anyone knowing

While crying

I went far, far away

I'm gonna listen to this song the whole night until I tired of crying 😭.

Man, I don't know what to do after this. Maybe just trying to survive without them? I mean I've been on this fandom since I was 19, now that I'm 25. There are a lot of things happened and a lot of thing are formed/connected. I don't see them just as idol who just appear on my screen to dance, sing, and being cool, pretty, and other celebrity stuffs. They are my biggest emotional support since before. So I don't really know what should I do the day after tomorrow until June 2024 (since Seokjin is come home) lmao.

It's 2.33 am in South Korea now. I wish they have a good sleep and good meal 🥺. Anyway I see from their live that Taehyung was excited to join the military. Said that he has a goal. I'm a little bit worried about how bulky he become after this but whatever that makes the baby happy.

Wish the baby bears a good luck on their services. They will be separate after the basic training but since they're a good people and a social butterfly I believed people around them will be kind to them.

Until we meet again!

See you guys in 2025 🫡👋💜

[ackasamii--archive]

if you love him

summary: armin is ready to let you go but are you?

pairing: armin arlert x black!fem reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: a little angst and fluff

note: had this idea one day and decided to post it. hope you like it because this one is close to my heart. title inspired by this song.

“Where’s y/n?” Something Armin Arlert heard a lot the past four years. This time it was Connie asking while glancing around to see if he could spot her.

“Probably with Onyankopon again.” Sasha answered easily while lying lazily in a chair. “Honestly surprised she hasn’t been caught by Hange or Levi yet, she should stop while she’s ahead.”

Jean scoffed, “We all know she’s into him, I don’t know why she’s still sneaking around.”

“You know y/n, she’s always kept to herself, kind of like Mikasa, but more discreet about it.” Connie shrugged.

Said girl narrowed her eyes at the buzzcut male, “More discreet?”

His heart twisted at every passing second while listening to them talk. There was one thing they were right about; you really did keep to yourself. And that’s what initially drawled him towards you.

It was the way you were always silent during conversation amongst friends and enjoying being around the people you were most comfortable with. How the quiet smile appeared on your lips whenever Jean or Connie made some stupid joke. Or the way Armin was captured by every word whenever you do speak, which was a rarity in itself. There was just something about you that kept his eyes always looking for you in a crowd. And sometimes they would meet for the briefest second before you quickly looked away to something else.

Then there was your skin. It was different from everyone else’s. Even Eren’s and Ymir’s. Your complexion had the sun smiling at you whenever it was out. Standing out amongst a sea of people, making you beautifully unique in his eyes.

It was easy to see that you wouldn’t fit with someone like him. Weak and useless Armin. You deserve someone strong and bold like Jean. Maybe outgoing and funny like Connie. Or maybe someone who could relate to you the most.

Like Onyankopon.

It was when the first came to Paradis Island. The moment your eyes landed on him; you were in awe. How was it that a stranger, a Marleyan, was able to capture your attention in seconds when he’s known you ever since they first started in the Survey Corps?

And just like that you’ve been sneaking out at night and coming back in the early hours of the morning with a soft smile on your lips. Yes, he’s noticed. He’s noticed how much happier you’ve become whenever you’d come back from your nightly adventures. He hated it. He hated that it couldn’t be him that made you smile like that.

Such a beautiful smile.

“She’ll tell us when she wants to.” Armin forced himself to say. He hid his heartbreak. He hid because at the end of the day, what he felt didn’t matter. Especially in a time of war.

War. Whoever said war was kind must’ve been out of their damned minds.

“Nothing we can do about it,” Mikasa shrugged, “it’s her own fault if she gets caught.”

Connie suddenly cleared his throat loudly, “Speaking of!” Armin along with everyone else turned their heads to find you entering the room, eyes slightly widened in surprise and curiosity. “Now where’ve you been, young lady?!”

You roll your eyes, “I went for a walk, mind your business.”

It was one of those brief seconds again. Where his and your eyes connected. Almost as if it were a puzzle finding its place.

This time he looked away.

“Shouldn’t you all be asleep?” you asked while leaning on the armchair Sasha was sitting in. “You know how the captain gets when we make noise past curfew.”

“We should say the same for you,, dummy.” Jean flicked her forehead.

You smack his hand, “Whatever. Do what you want, don’t get mad if Levi makes you do extra chores in the morning.”

She’s more talkative, Armin noticed. He wondered if anyone else realized this as well. If they did, they sure didn’t mind it much.

Not long after, everyone else decided to follow your lead and head to bed, not wanting to face the wrath of their strict superior in the morning to come. And as usual, Armin would lay away at night, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

He’d think about Eren and where he’s gone. He’d think about everyone else’s mental sanity through all of this, especially with this dangerous plan they had when they got to Marley. But tonight your face couldn’t stop appearing in his mind.

So much so, he dreamed of what your lips would feel like against his.

While simultaneously fighting off a growing resentment towards the Marleyan.

Next morning they received another letter from Eren. Which meant more developments in their plan. Which also meant more exhaustingly long meetings with Hange and the others. Those were the days he got to see you a lot more.

Sneaking glances your way, smiling despite himself whenever your eyes met.

Actually, it was happening a lot often now that Armin thought about it. Today he even caught you looking at him! It was strange and quite confusing considering your secret situation with Onyankopon.

Then night came. Armin hadn’t returned to the quarters yet as he was finishing up with Hange. Sometimes they could get a bit too carried away and he’d be patient enough to wait until she was finished. But once he was finally free, Armin pulled at his tie and left his white shirt unbuttoned.

He didn’t walk back to the quarters. Instead, he walked along the beach he and the others found years ago.

The ocean.

It was still beautiful no matter how many times he laid his eyes on it.

No matter how much it pained him to know what was coming on the other side.

He didn’t mean to.

No, he really didn’t.

But Armin just happened to turn his head and see you leave the tent Onyankopon was staying in. There was something within him that grew to the point where he felt reckless.

You stopped in your tracks, worried that you might’ve been caught when someone called your name. But when you glanced behind you, it was only Armin.

His kind features released the tension from your body as you fully turned to the male slowly approaching you.

You never knew what to do around him. How to act, how to talk. Armin Arlert had to be the most intelligent member of Levi’s squad and with that title came intimidation.

Not only that but he was far too pretty to be talking to someone like you. To even notice you. And so you only stared at your shaking hands, hoping your darkened skin could hide the warm feeling spreading across your face. If not your skin, please let the night protect you.

“What are you doing out here?” You finally ask carefully.

His blue eyes, similar to the large body of water, stared at you with an intensity you could not understand. In fact he always did. For years you never knew why he looked at you this way. Was it because of how you looked? How dark your skin was? Sure, you were most definitely used to that. Along with the whispers and the judgment.

But he held none of that. It was something else entirely. Something that had you shift on your toes and made your stomach do endless flips.

Now he was standing close. Not too close that you were uncomfortable with. But closer than he usually stood near anyone.

And then he whispers.

“Does he at least love you?”

You simply stared at him, now in confusion, “Who?”

“Onyankopon”

His heart was practically ready to leave his chest at that very moment. What had come over him? It’s like as soon as he saw you leave that tent, all signs of rational and reason had left him. And before he knew it, he had called your name, and now here you were. Standing before each other.

Ready to accept—

“What makes you think that?”

The question had thrown him off. Armin studied your face, seeing the confusion written all over it. A small part of him thought you adorable with the way you scrunched up your brows matched with the little frown on your face.

There he goes wishing for something out of his reach.

“It’s just that...” He hesitated to continue, the recklessness slowly leaving him. “you seem happier whenever you come back from seeing him...”

He had to look away from you. Find anything else he could look at but your face at this moment. So, instead he looked at the ocean and the words began to spill.

“And that’s all I’ve wanted for you. To see you smile, to see you happy. Even in a time where all things seem hopeless. When things seem impossible to achieve...like you.” He heard a quick gasp and continued before he regretted everything, “With everything unfolding, the titans, the Marleyans, this war, Eren—everything in my world is slowly crumbling before me. So, I search for you. I find you because you are my warmth, because you are my hope, and my motivation. In my dreams we’re free. And sometimes you’re there with me.” He closed his eyes to keep the tears at bay while clenching and unclenching his hands, “If you love him—”

“I don’t!”

Armin opened his eyes.

Seeing you crying was the saddest thing he’s ever witnessed. His body moved before his mind could process.

Suddenly his world was in his hands as he wiped the rebellious tears away.

You gripped onto his wrist while trying to calm down. Damn. You hadn’t planned to cry in front of him. Then again you hadn’t planned to hear any of that.

“It’s not him I love.”

You felt him freeze but never move his hands from the sides of your head. It was comforting, like a warm blanket.

After you’ve calmed down, you spoke in a more controlled voice, “I was an orphan before coming to the corps. I was the only person who looked different. There was no one that looked like...me. And I was alone. Being the outsider. Being the one to stand out when I just wanted to disappear in the sea of people.

And then I joined the Survey Corps where many people all over would be. Still, I was the only me among them. But it was different. I made friends, I didn’t see the judgment or rejection, not from them, not from you. I was happy, but the feeling of loneliness remained with me until...”

“Onyankopon.” Armin finished as realization crossed his features.

You nodded, “I can’t tell you how happy I was to see him. I wanted to cry right then and there. So, yes, I started sneaking out to see him. To learn about myself and hope that there were more people out there that looked like me. I wanted to know if my family was still out there if there was still hope. And he gave it to me. Something to hope for and the confidence to one day confess to the man I love.”

A smile reached your lips as you caught Armin’s own tears. His head leaned against yours as he closed his eyes.

“I didn’t feel—”

“Worthy? Me neither.”

There it was again. The same intensity in his eyes. Although this time, you knew what this was. You should’ve known sooner as he pulled you closer.

And he whispered, just a feather away from your lips, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He was gentle against your lips and slow as if he were taking his time to soak in your warmth and taste. His strong desire for you showed more through his body as one hand cupped your cheek with his thumb brushing below your eyes and his other pulled you closer to him where his warmth engulfed you, comforted you, and held you lovingly.

Finally.

Oh how you yearned to stay like this forever. Breathing in his scent, running your hand through his soft blond hair, and listening to him murmur against your ear about how much he loved you.

That night stayed with you as the war went on.

You would have Onyankopon to thank after the words exchanged between the two of you the night before. Why you were more talkative and happier.

“Onyan?”

The man looked up from his work and smiled gently at the nickname you’ve given him over time.

“Yeah, y/n?”

You pick at the wooden table in deep thought with a small frown on your face. He noticed the change in your mood the moment you entered his tent that night. But knowing you, constantly asking questions would not allow you to open up.

He learned to simply wait.

“Do you think I can be loved?”

Onyankopon stared at you for a moment.

“Why would you ask something like that.”

You sighed, “No, what I mean...it’s not like I’m the ideal type, you know?”

He raised a slick brow, “What’s this about?” Before you could reply he had already figured it out, “Oh wait, it’s about that one kid, isn’t it?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, that one kid.”

He chuckled and leaned on the table to look you in the eyes, “Do you love him?”

You didn’t respond.

“Ah,” The man rubbed his chin with a growing smirk, “Have you told him yet?”

“Are you crazy? Of course I haven’t!”

“Mmm, I think I’m quite sane, thank you.” He smirked. “We live in an unpredictable world, kiddo. You never know what’s going to happen next. You could die knowing you never told someone you loved them. Maybe they needed to hear it and it would be too late.” You stared at him blankly before he sighed, “Okay, let me put it this way. Do you want to die with regrets?”

You frowned, “No, no I don’t.”

Onyankopon nodded, “Then if you love him that much, tell him. Yeah, sure there could be rejection, but it beats having your confession weigh you down when it’s too late.”

You took in his words, knowing that he was right and you had to somehow build up whatever courage in you to just tell him.

Just do it. What could go wrong?

“Really?”

“Yep!”

A small teasing smile reached your lips, “Talking from experience?”

He laughed despite the small stab in his heart.

“Maybe!”

© all content belongs to ackasamii 2021. do not modify or repost.

[pan-fangirl-345]

Meeting the Team

Summary: You’re out with your boyfriend, Tsukishima, when you run into his team unexpected. You were not prepared for this.

It was supposed to be a calm walk through the park. You really weren't expecting to be introduced to your boyfriend's entire team at once.

You and Tsukishima had been walking through the park after spending the day window shopping. You had finally managed to convince him to go shopping with you. Even though it was something that neither of you particularly enjoyed, you need some new school supplies and maybe a few new sweatshirts and Tsukishima liked to point out the weird things that people bought so you could ponder what they were using it for.

It was a nice day, the skies were clear, there was a nice breeze, and it was cool enough that you weren't overly hot.

Kei had told you about his team before, obviously, and you and Tadashi had known each other since middle school.

"Hey, (Y/F/N), heads up," Kei murmured, nudging your side as a group of boys headed towards you.

"Isn't that your team?" you asked, letting Kei, nudge you behind him slightly. Kei's hand slid into yours, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. You wrapped your arms around the arm Kei was using to halfway shield you from the rest of the boys.

"Yes, unfortunately," Kei muttered.

"Oh my god! Is Saltishima with a girl?!"

The small red-head that had spoken was clearly Hinata, and he was just the way Kei had described him.

"What else would she be, dumbass?"

That was Kageyama then, if the stoic face and the dark hair were anything to go by.

"It's good to see you again (Y/F/N)," Tadashi said, giving you a small smile.

"Who's your friend Tsukishima?" the silver-haired male asked, giving you a warm smile. That must've been Suga.

"This is (Y/N), she's my girlfriend," Kei admitted, glancing back at you warily.

"I-I can go," you whispered to him, starting to back away from them all. It wasn't that you or Kei were ashamed of your relationship, if either of you were it wouldn't have gotten this far, but neither of you were ready to tell his entire team at once.

One of the first things that you had told Kei was that you and crowds didn't tend to mix. You sometimes got overwhelmed when you had to remember so many names and faces. And Kei had told you enough that it was better if you met the team in groups or one-on-one.

"How did Tsukishima get such a pretty girlfriend?" You looked to see a short boy with spiky hair and a blond tuft. That would be Nishinoya then.

"Guys, let's give them some space, she looks like she might puke." That was an older boy, with short brown hair. That was probably Daichi.

"Damn, she's almost as pretty as a Kiyoko and Yachi. You never told us that you were a player Tsukishima." Loud, buzzcut, looked like someone you would avoid in an alleyway. Tanaka then.

The three standing back and watching looked like Narita, Ennoshita, and Kinoshita.

"It's nice to meet you."

Tall, long hair, looked like a tough guy. Asahi then.

"It's nice to meet you too Asahi," you murmured, giving him a shy smile.

"Y-You know how I am?"

"Kei's told me about all of you," you admitted. "I think I can name all of you. Maybe."

Kei glanced back at you, running his thumb over your hand softly.

"Aw, so Saltishima does care about us!" Hinata chirped, practically vibrating.

"Hinata's as enthusiastic as you said he was Kei," you murmured, stepping out a little bit.

"You got my name right!" Hinata said, giving you a bright smile, one you returned slowly.

"It's nice to meet you (Y/L/N), I'm assuming you're the reason Tsukishima is always smiling at his phone during practice lately," Suga said, smirking at Kei, who glared at him.

"You told me you weren't doing anything!" you hissed, pinching Kei in the side lightly.

"I said that what I was doing wasn't as important as talking to you," Kei replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"I-I'm really n-not that important! You should be paying attention to practice," you told him, glaring at him weakly.

"Good to know you'll call this stick out on his shit," Nishinoya mumbled.

"Noya, language," Suga hissed.

"It's alright Suga, that doesn't bother me."

"You should hear her when we study together," Kei muttered, pushing his glasses up his nose again.

"You aren't any better baby," you informed him.

"You really aren't Tsukki," Yamaguchi pointed out.

"Baby? Never knew Tsukishima would be into pet names," Kageyama said.

"You're never gonna here the end of this, are you?" you asked Kei, who shook his head.

"This is one of the reason I was hoping to delay telling them," Kei confessed.

"Hey, (Y/L/N), do you want to play with us?" Hinata asked, throwing a ball into the air.

"I . . . um, I don't really play. I come to your games and everything, but I'm more of a softball person."

"You likes hitting things with a metal bat, you mean," Kei said. "Since you can't legally do it to the idiots in our class."

"Maybe, but I also like the feeling of a ball hitting my glove, the sound it makes, the way it feels when you catch a pop fly no one thought you could catch and the ump yells 'you're out'!"

"What position do you play?"

"Outfielder, I have an arm apparently."

"She's one of their strongest batters," Kei boasted.

"What's the point in you boasting about my abilities, Kei?" you asked.

"Because you won't do it yourself."

"I do too!"

"No, love, you don't."

You pouted, but it was true. You never really saw a reason to boast about how hard you could throw a ball, or how far you could hit one.

Your phone ringing saved you from any comments.

"Mom?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm out with Kei, I told you that I was going out with him today. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing, I guess I just forgot where you were."

"Do you need anything while I'm out?"

"No, just be home before dinner."

"I always am," you reminded her.

She hung up, making you tear a hand through your hair.

"I need to leave a note or something next time," you muttered.

"Your mom?" Kei asked.

You nodded, intertwining your fingers together.

"Need me to take you home?"

"No, I just have to be back by dinner, so I'm good until about five-thirty."

"Wait, were you on a date?" Daichi asked, raising an eyebrow.

You glanced at Kei. 

You were definitely dating, but you had never really labeled the outings that took place. They didn't feel like dates.

"Yeah. I told you guys I was going out with my girlfriend," Kei muttered, pushing his glasses up his face.

"We thought you were joking man!" Tanaka bellowed. 

"Yeah, we just thought you were trying to get out of team hangouts."

"You should've gone, we could've done this another day," you told Kei.

"I wanted to spend some time with my girlfriend, is that too much to ask?" Kei asked, tightening his grip a little bit.

He was clearly getting exasperated with everyone, and the lines on his face said that he was getting irritated too.

"No, but don't you guys have your tournament coming up?" you asked. "You should be practicing. I can wait."

Kei frowned, and then you realized your choice of words.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," you muttered.

"Love," he whispered, a low warning.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you should be practicing. We can go on all the dates you want when your tournament is over."

"If you don't go out with her Tsukishima, I might," Noya teased.

You couldn't help the heat that flushed to your cheeks.

You had never thought of yourself as particularly pretty, you were intelligent, sure, but you weren't what most people would describe as crush material. It was one of the reasons it took you and Kei so long to get together, you had thought it was a prank.

Kei sighed, deep and long-suffering and you stifled a giggle.

"I think we better get going guys," you admitted. "I think Kei might pop a blood vessel if we don't."

"Or commit murder," Kei grumbled, but he shot you a grateful look.

"You love them too much for that and you know it."

"End me now."

"Imagine how bad it'll be when I finally meet your brother," you pointed out.

The blood seemed to drain from Kei's face and Yamaguchi snorted into his hand as he tried to suppress his laughter.

"We're breaking up," he deadpanned.

"Not until I meet your brother," you told him, shaking your hands for emphasis.

"Yamaguchi, help me out here." He must've been desperate.

"Video tape it for me so I can see how it goes," Tadashi replied, making you laugh.

"This is why we're friends," you told him, fist bumping him.

"They're plotting against me I swear," Kei muttered, tearing a hand through his hair.

"Okay, let's go then Grumpy Pants," you said. "It was nice to finally meet all of you," you added, heading for the train station so you could head home.

"Did . . . did you like them?" Kei asked.

"Of course I did, honestly, with some one-on-one time with them, I would probably like them a lot more."

"I'm sorry that it happened like that," Kei admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It's alright, I handled it a lot better than I thought I would. I think it's because you told me so much about them. I felt like I knew a lot about them before I even met them."

Kei nodded, kissing the top of your head.

"Why are you so different around me, Kei?" you asked after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I see how you act around the others. I know that everyone else sees the- what did you call it?- bastard act. I rarely ever see that. I know it's only been a few months and this phase," you pointed out every point of physical contact, "will probably wear off eventually, but . . . you don't act like that around me."

"I act like this around you because you're different," Kei muttered. "You seem to have the ability to read me like a book. It's aggravating, but it also means that I don't have to put up the wall. You see everything, and you seem to like it anyway."

"Does . . . does it bother you? That I know you so well?" you inquired, taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

"Get back here," Kei muttered, tucking you neatly into his side again. "I said it's aggravating, and I said that because you know how much I don't like talking about things. And you always know when I'm hiding something that's bothering me."

"You don't always have to talk to me. You could talk to Yamaguchi," you suggested.

"I talk to you because I trust you. If I didn't want to talk to you, we wouldn't be dating," he told you. "We wouldn't be dating if it bothered me that you knew me so well."

"I just . . . I've never really been in a serious relationship with someone who actually liked me."

"What do you mean?" He paused, and looked down at you, frowning.

"I've gone on dates and everything before . . .  but most of them were dared by friends to ask me out." You shrugged, toying with your hair. "It's just that I want to do things right."

"You are," Kei assured you. "Have . . . have I ever made you feel like you weren't?"

"No, baby, you have never made me feel like that," you promised him, turning so you could cup his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I would have told you if you had."

Kei nodded, bumping foreheads with you.

"C'mon, let's get you home before your mother has an aneurism," Kei muttered.

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand as you walked together.

"I would literally pay to see my mother pop a blood vessel," you told him, smiling at him as he smirked.

"Your parents don't like me, do they?" he asked after a while. "That's why she keeps pretending she doesn't know where you are."

"They just have a hard time trusting anybody. The last couple of times I tried to bring a boy home they confessed that it was just a dare," you admitted, attempting to hide your face with your hair.

"They don't know what they're missing," Kei snapped, stopping you. "You are amazing, and beautiful, and you're smart, and you know me well enough to know that it's just the bastard act. Anything they told you about how much you are worth is wrong."

"I know that," you answered, the silent 'sort of' not needing to be addressed. "But Kei, you have to remember, it takes a toll on a girl when the only reason she gets asked out is because of a dare. Why do you think it took me so long to get together with you?"

Kei frowned, but you knew he got it. Didn't mean he was happy about it though.

"We got off track," you muttered. "My point, is that they don't trust you yet. I do, and they'll come around eventually, I did, didn't I?"

Kei nodded, giving you a small smile.

"Do you think your team liked me?" you inquired as the train bumped along.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they asked you to start managing," Kei muttered. "Yeah, they liked you. A lot."

"Don't go getting jealous Kei," you teased, wrinkling your nose at him playfully.

"'M not," he grumbled, but the slight flush on his cheeks told you otherwise.

"You know you'll always be my favorite volleyball dork," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

PDA was never something Kei had ever really been against, the most he usually went with was an arm around your shoulders or waist, holding your hand, but other times he would allow things like this.

He always had a protective arm around you when you were on the train since he knew there were all sorts of creepy people, mostly men, that might try something.

"Kei, you know you don't have to introduce me to your brother right? You seem a little on edge about it."

"No, I want you two to meet," he admitted, toying with a small piece of your hair absentmindedly. "It's just going to be chaos when you do. Akiteru can be . . . a lot sometimes."

"And your team isn't?" you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"You . . . have a fair point," he confessed.

"I tend to," you teased.

"Okay, don't get too cocky, that's my job," Kei replied.

"I thought it was your job to be pessimistic."

"I'm a realist," he retorted.

"Keep telling yourself that babe," you said, patting his shoulder lightly.

Kei snorted, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You loved bickering like this with Kei, it was never hurtful, it was playful teasing, and it made you both smile. You were both very good at it too, which meant sessions could go until someone stopped you.

Many people had asked if you guys were having an argument the first time you did it in school, and you had just giggled and said it was how you communicated.

When you got off at your stop Kei slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers together.

"Text me when you get home alright? There's been some sketchy stuff going on," you tell him as you walked down your road.

"I will," he assured you, kissing your forehead before you slipped inside.

"Bye Kei," you called, waving.

"Bye (Y/F/N), I'll see you tomorrow."

You smiled as he strode down the street toward his own home.

Yeah, he was definitely different from the others.

(A/N I’m such a simp for this boy! Oof.)

[mmelonheadd]

VIGILANTE: 2022

The reality: unless you’re spending thousands on your “superhero costume,” it’s probably not going to look all that great. I’m not saying it’s impossible. There are some cool ones out there, sure. But let’s get real. Not only is it going to look bad - it’s completely impractical and unlikely to be taken seriously. Don’t mean to burst your bubble.

It’s 2022. It’s time to reinvent the superhero.

For this article, I’m focusing on the look of what I call “street vigilantes” - able-bodied individuals whose work involves mid-to-heavy physical activity. I’m not delving into the outdated ethics of Batman and his contemporaries here. I’m not writing a piece about choosing your name, either. I’ll get to that in another article.

(As for my differently abled/disabled individuals - I’m going to do a piece about the “virtual vigilante” look, too! I haven’t forgotten you.)

It’s all about color, and the colors you choose should mean something to you. The All-American might want to go red, white, and blue. The vigilante who mostly works at night might want to stick to black and dark blue tones. If you’re trying to lay low, pick muted shades. If you want to go all out with the whole “symbol” thing... do it! Just be sure to consult a color wheel to ensure you’re picking hues that play well together. (If you’re having trouble picking a combination of shades for whatever reason, I recommend you use your favorite search engine to look up color palettes.)

Shoes. Today’s street vigilantes need lightweight sneakers with breathable mesh, just enough cushioning, and lots of traction and flexibility. Converse, Vans, and Dr. Martens look cool. I know. And we all watched The Crow and we all want a pair of heavy black boots. Yes, I know. I mean, if you can make it work, more power to you. I’m envious. I suppose there ARE people out there able to make a getaway in six inch heels...

Harem pants, joggers, track pants, leggings (with pockets). It’s really up to your preference whether you wear loose or form-fitting clothing, but it should absolutely be lightweight and breathable. Pockets are a must. Pockets with zippers are even better.

The shirts, hoodies/jackets, sweaters - this is the place to make a statement. Maybe that means bold color. Maybe this is where you’ll display your logo (if you have one). As long as your clothes allow a full range of motion and are weather appropriate, the sky is (if only it really was) the limit. I have to recommend against wearing a cape for obvious reasons.

The mask. It’s not a necessity, and it might attract unwanted attention - but if you’re going to do it, do it right. It could be as simple as a lot of eyeliner or the classic black eye mask. The Venetian (masquerade) mask is daring. Ski masks look cool, but are inappropriate in many situations and could get you into trouble. Use discretion.

Accessorize with keychains, lanyards, rings, necklaces. If you’re into makeup, find your signature look. Depending on your personal style, you could sport anything from a buzzcut to blonde Viking braids. Just be sure nothing restricts your movement.

I recommend a backpack. A drawstring bag, parkour bag, etc. Keep a first-aid kit, water bottle, and band-aids with you at the very least. It’s a good place to keep your phone and wallet, too.

FINAL NOTE: don’t get yourself stuck in a rut, wearing one outfit or doing your hair and makeup one way. It’s one thing to have a color palette and another thing entirely to wear the same clothes every day. Hell, you can even have a secondary color palette to wear (Venom Symbiote Spiderman, anyone?) on certain occasions.

FINAL FINAL NOTE: I mean, have fun. Feel free to ignore literally all of this advice if you don’t like what I have to say. I’m just a Melonhead.

Love,

Melonhead

[love-peterparker]

In Extremis || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After the reveal of Spider-Man’s secret identity and the release of Quentin Beck’s murder video, there isn’t a lot going right for Peter Parker. But he has you. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, protests and rallies, mentions of murder, a gun that is never shot, and some hair description for Y/N for plot purposes (but it should still be generic enough).  

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I’m first a Captain America and Agent Carter fan, and I wanted to recreate what makes their relationship so special, but with Peter and Y/N… ‘cuz I also love Peter Parker. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, thanks to @marvelouspeterparker, @sinisterspidey (she actually has a blurb called I’ll Follow You and it builds off of Spider-Man’s identity reveal) and @stuckonspidey for answering my anon asks for general writing tips and Peter’s character. And @spideyspeaches with her kind words after reading one of the final drafts of this fic. Lastly, a special thanks to @peterbenjiparker encouraging me with this fic and for making me so emotional with her series Invisible String (Read this!... but only if your heart can take it) that I needed to write something. This story has nothing to do with it, but it does make some small generic references to her fic, and I would like to think that Y/N and Peter are soulmates in this story.

***

This takes place in a universe where a FFH-esque identity reveal happens when Y/N and Peter are young adults.

***

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

Peter rarely admits it, but you say it all the time. When you hit a dead end in the Avenger’s database. When checking for your gun before leaving another safehouse. When reaching for him in the dark of night.

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

It had been over a year since Peter’s identity as Spider-Man was revealed and the dubious video of Quentin Beck’s murder was released. But it felt like a lifetime.

These two Peter problems were like ivy. They rooted, twisted, and spread. Winding into chokeholds around their victims.

But heroes knew how to play with fire.

Peter’s identity was dealt with in a straightforward fashion. Plenty villains who would do anything to exact revenge on Spider-Man, but they would have to find Peter Parker and identify his loved ones first. And for someone like Peter? Well, it was going to take some time.

To you, Peter was lifegiving. A shining ray of golden hope. You fell to sleep and rose to press kisses into his face. To cherish and hold. To share tears. But to the world, or even New York City? He was a nobody, one who couldn��t even hold a steady job.

You all worked fast while the wicked played catch-up. The Avengers searched and wiped all, but ultimately little personal information Peter had on the internet, as well anything that might connect him to your shared inner circle. Everyone was given an Avenger’s signal watch. And both you and May opted to move as a precaution. May to Brooklyn. You to Avenger’s Tower.

The case of Quentin Beck’s murder was a much more grinding process. Through polished superhero reputations, the lawyers secured an Avenger’s Tower house arrest during court proceedings. An overwhelming amount of evidence in Peter’s favor was gathered. Press conferences were held. Speeches were given. And when it all seemed like it was too much for too long, you and Peter would lie in bed, arms and legs entangled, whispering that everything would turn out all right. Good will win. You just had to keep going.

It was taxing, but not impossible. And just when you all thought you were pulling at the end of the thread with the jury in your favor, the ground beneath you crumbles into nothingness. You spiral and crash into a labyrinth, lush and high-walled. Maybe this was the way out- oh wait, you’ve been here- or have you? You all turn and turn only to face a new dead end. A new set of incriminating videos were released. Spider-Man’s videos took the spotlight, but videos of Wanda and Bucky were also revealed. The streets of New York bustled in whispers.

Can we really trust these heroes? What if these videos are the truth?

And what happens when these powerful people think they are right when they are wrong?

When public protests against Earth’s heroes sprouted and jury members started to disappear, it was clear that the whoever or whatever was behind this had greater motives and powerful allies. It was time to buy time.

Everyone had tried to convince Peter to go into hiding somewhere else. Anywhere else. He had enough super-friends where anywhere was possible. Lay low while everyone else above ground scrambled to unweave this massive web of lies. But Peter was infuriatingly adamant that New York, regardless of her wavering loyalties, was his to protect.

So two months ago, he started bouncing around New York City, investigating when he could, and making polarizing headlines with every swing he took.

You tried to continue as if Peter was still by your side. After being terminated from your junior journalist job for “suspect ties to Spider-Man,” Spider-Man became your mission. You originally attended press conferences and rallies as moral support, but after Peter’s first awkward mumbles of a speech, it was painfully clear that he needed a new voice. The public herself needed a normal person who interacted with superheroes. Who better than Spider-Man’s girlfriend? But after the last kidnapping attempt and the Avengers’ numbers shrinking, it was clear that this wouldn’t last. The world now knew who you were too.

The thick ivy had caught up, and you were on fire.

But to hell with it because there was no universe where you would be leaving this nightmare without him. So the next time you looked in the mirror, you donned short red hair and heavy eyeliner.  

Days were spent questioning possible witnesses. Nights were spent in the light of a computer. And when you could barely drag yourself to continue, moments were spent staring at your beautiful boy’s picture. He needed you.  

You had only heard from him twice since he went into hiding, though there were a few times answered unknown number calls would lead to abstract rustling and distinct web shooter noises. To those, you always whispered “I love you,” before hanging up.

That was until last night, when you noticed small slip of paper in the crack of the window of the safehouse you had been staying at. Only a time and an address were written, in messy, but undeniably Parker script.

You spent the next day visiting arbitrary places in the Bronx, trying to determine if anyone was following you and collecting items in an unsuspecting backpack.

It was a balancing act between comfort and practicalities. An extra stealth suit. A waterproof jacket you both shared. Protein bars. Extra web fluid and a first-aid kit. A hefty wad of cash, just in case. And in the smallest pocket, things to help him in the darkest days to come. Letters from you, May, Ned, and your other friends. A few packs of gummy bears. And a picture of you and him, laughing in Central Park on one of your many dates. Sunlight casting halos on your heads. Bright. Carefree. Brimming with love.

Your heart cried and cried and cried, begging for those days.

But they were gone. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so were the people in that picture.

You travelled to the building location and made your way to the rooftop. Rows and rows of white sheets were hung, all whipping in the wind to dry.

A small smile graced your lips. You had to hand it to him. He was smart.

You folded yourself into one of the corners of the rooftop, gun in hand and waited. Eerie silence slowly lulling you to…

You woke up to the soft footsteps, sleepy eyes registering a shadowy figure behind one of the bedsheets.

“Hans?” you whispered, pointing your gun with a finger on the trigger.

“Leia,” the figured replied, equally hushed. The shadow lifted the curtain. It took a second to register, but it was really him. You raced towards each other, quick hold each other, beaming. Today, you existed in the same place at the same time.

“That was so stupid. I can’t believe you got me to do that,” you laughed, pressing your face into him, holding him tightly as if he could disappear at any moment.

“Oh, come on, you loved it!” he quipped. You hummed in appreciation.

“True, but I love you more.” His eyes brightened at your confession, pink dusting his cheeks.

“I know.” You shook your head, smiling at his response before turning your head and taking in who he had become. Gone were the luxurious curls, replaced with a buzzcut. A pair of fake glasses perched on his nose in further attempts to conceal his identity. Hallowed eyes. His skin tinted gray from the stress. You ran your fingers through the fuzz on his head, massaging his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes fluttering shut, with hands reaching to caress yours.

“You cut your hair.”

“You did too.” His fingers danced in the ends of your own tresses. A sad smile furnished your face.

“It had to be done,” you replied, before pressing your lips to his cheek and gently removing yourself from his embrace to get your laptop. “We need to get started. We’ve found a lot since you left.”

With his head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your laptop on your lap, you recounted the on-going investigation to him. The deep web that just kept going and going. Your theories and suspects. And when that was done, you kept talking. How Aunt May and his friends were fine but missing him. How the remaining Avengers were fairing. Peter was oddly quiet, sharing only a few thoughts here and there, but you attributed it to his weariness.

As the sun continued to dip, the silences between sentences stretched, but you mustered more words. As if your sentences were the delicate string that grounded him to you.

“Y/N,” he interrupted. You looked at him and hummed in reply. He began playing with your fingers, eyes never meeting your own. “I love you more than I ever I thought I could, and I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done. And you’ve done so much. Like, I don’t know if I would have even made it this far without you, but here you are, and well, you can’t keep doing this.” You cocked your head, before shaking your head, hair rustling.

“What? Peter, we are getting somewhere! I just need to visit the-“ He lets go of your hand, fingers clenching into trembling fists.

“No, no more visits. No more investigating. This can’t be your life. When this started, we thought there was a way out. But it’s been over a year. Clearly whoever or whatever is doing this won’t stop until we’re all gone. This may never stop. I can’t have you throwing away your life for me. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll see you aga-“

“Peter,” you cut him off, your voice pitched lower in concern, “Where is this coming from? We’re gonna make it. It is just a matter of-”

“I can’t give you what you deserve! I’m Spider-Man, so we don’t get to have a house and two kids! We get this-, this fucking disaster! I live like this because I have to. I don’t get a choice. And you shouldn’t be stupid enough where you are doing the same thing!”  

Your mouth fell open, ready to spit back poison when he looked at you. It was in his eyes. Behind the falling tears and redness was the glint of insecurity that Peter had always carried. This was the child whose parents died. The teenager who didn’t stop his Uncle Ben from getting killed. Who held Tony Stark in his last moments. The man who was on the run.  

The hero who would never stop giving to a world who would never stop taking.

Your thoughts frenzied. If you held on to him too tightly, he would resist. The more he would thrash, determined to save you while slowly sacrificing himself until there was nothing left. Your brain was frozen, so your heart gave you the words-

“Marry me.”  

Peter’s eyes widen before retracting into a tight furrow, scrunching his nose.

“What?! No! Did you not hear anything I just said-“

“I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. The one thing you never get to doubt in the world is us. So, I’m gonna ask you again; will you,” you took his hand, went to one knee, and let your voice soften as you held his gaze, “Peter Parker, marry me?”  

You both bathed in silence. His chocolate doe eyes boring straight into yours, searching for truth. The thought that maybe you had gone about this the wrong way started to crawl into your mind, but then a smile slowly creeped onto his face, bright red with blush. More salt-water pooled in his eyes. He pulled you into a near lung-constricting embrace, smothering wet kisses into every inch of your face. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically hear his thoughts as you basked in each kiss. I missed you. I love you. And oh my god, you’re here to stay.

“What did I ever-, I have no idea know what I ever did to ever deserve you.” A smirked formed on your lips.

“Is that a yes?” The gold stars in his eyes shined at your playfulness. There was the man you always loved.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes. I do, Mrs. Parker,” he said pulling you in for a passionate kiss. And you both stayed there, melting into the ground beneath you. Breathing each other in as moments passed. Tender “I love you’s” flowing generously from both of your lips. As if the world had vanished and all that existed was you and him, and him and you, and this understanding that this, this was a love until death do you part.

Peter was the one to break the string of kisses, leaving you to chase his lips before touching his forehead with your own. His breath hot on your face. “I- , if you go to my lab there is a secret compartment. In my desk. The code is your birthday. I was going to ask you myself, but then, well… this.” You chuckled as he stumbled on his words.

“I’ll get it as soon as I can.” You both leaned in to close the gap again when a cacophony of sirens and lights echoed in the streets below.

Frustration filled Peter’s eyes as he sat up. “Shit. I-, I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?” You let out a shallow breath, but quickly forced a smile.

“Go get’em.” And with the whip of his webs, he was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in the new quiet. Your fingers graced your lips, still warm with the memory of his. A lightness had settled in your chest, and with every breathe you could feel it pulse stronger.

Because no matter what it took, no matter how long the wait, there was two things for certain.

He was going to protect the city. And you were going to save your husband.

[calumance]

Okay we got cute planned haircuts but what about momma is on a work tril so Aiden and Logan arw with Cal. Maybe they're doing some shenanigans while Cal is on a conference call and they both come in like "dad he got gum in my hair" so he has to buzzcut it bc there's no way to save thier curls. And Logan's like "mumma's gonna be sad 😞😞😞" so Cal shaves his head in solidarity

Oh my goodness, what a sad day it would be to lose the curls. The luscious, soft curls. Mama really would be sad to see them without curls. 😭😭 But, she still loves them 🥰

           Six days, that’s how long it’s been since Calum dropped his wife off at the airport to head off on a week-long business trip. Six days had gone by without any incidences with the boys. Now that the boys were older, Calum felt confident that he could handle anything that came up. That was until he was in his studio, working on a song that he was trying to write and both boys came walking through the door.

           Calum looked up at his two sons, his eyebrows pulling together. He wrapped his arms around the bass sitting on his lap and he ball the pick in his fist. Before he could ask his sons what was going on Aiden sighed and he pushed his little brother forward. “Logan got gum in my hair. When I try to get it out, it gets worse.” Aiden said sternly while Logan ducked his head.

           When Calum looked from Logan to Aiden, he noticed the large amount of disheveled hair on the left side of Aiden’s head. Panic set into Calum’s chest for a moment before he remembered the peanut butter trick to get gum out of hair. Calum set his bass down and stood from his chair. “I think I know how to fix this. Follow me, boys.” Calum smiled at the boys whose expressions barely changed.

           They followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen. Calum sorted through the cabinet and finally found the peanut butter. He slammed the jar onto the counter and started to open the cap. “What’s that for?” Aiden asked, his face twisting.

           “I remember your mom telling me that there is an oil in peanut butter that breaks down the gum and it gets gum out of hair.” Calum unscrewed the top as Aiden’s eyes widened. Calum assessed the damage to Aiden’s hair and hoped this was going to work. With a deep breath, Calum dug his hand into the jar and started lathering Aiden’s head in peanut butter.

           With Aiden’s head completely covered in peanut butter, Calum helped Aiden into the bathroom and started washing his hair. As the peanut butter continued to wash out, it became more and more obvious that there were still pieces of gum scattered through Aiden’s hair. “Did it work?” Aiden yelled over the running water.

           Calum sighed and sat back onto his heels. “No, I guess we’re going to have to make an emergency run to the hair dresser.” Both Calum and Aiden sighed as Calum gently ran a towel over Aiden’s hair. With another sigh, Aiden tossed the towel to the ground then followed his dad out of the bathroom and out the front door to the car.

           As the door of the hair salon opened, a bell dinged which grabbed the attention of the woman sitting in the seat in front of the mirror. She smiled from ear to ear and stood to make her way to the three boys. “How can I help you today?” As she smiled, she chewed on a piece of gum.

           Calum rested his hands on Aiden’s shoulders and looked down at him, “It appears we have a gum in the hair mishap. I tried the peanut butter thing, but I think it made it worse.” Calum looked back up at the woman, sheepishly since he thought the peanut butter was a sure way to get the gum out.

           The woman bent at the waist to be at eye level with Aiden. She chewed obnoxiously on her gum as she shifted her fingers through Aiden’s hair. She hummed and then stood up straight, “I do see that we have a bit of an issue here. Come sit in my chair and we’ll see what we can do.” She smiled and Aiden followed her while Calum reached down and grabbed Logan’s hand to keep tabs on him. Calum lifted Logan onto his hip as he stood off to the side as the woman lifted and assessed Logan’s hair. After a few minutes, she dropped her hands an shook her head. “If I cut it, it’ll be entirely uneven and look even worse than it does now. I suggest that we just cut it all off.”

           Aiden’s eyes widened and looked at the woman through the mirror, “Like shave it all off?” He yelled in distress and the woman nodded. Aiden looked over at his dad and grabbed the hair that was not damaged by the gum. “Daddy, I can’t shave my hair.” Aiden’s eyes filled with tears.

           Calum walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “What if we did it together? I’ll shave my hair with you.” Aiden looked at Calum for a minute before gulping and then nodding. Just as Aiden nodded, the woman switched on her clippers and started working on Aiden’s hair.

           Once Aiden was done, Calum sat in the chair and watched as Aiden continuously ran his hands over his fresh buzzcut. The clippers sounded and he closed his eyes, allowing his hair to fall over his face. When the clippers shut off, he opened his eyes and reached his hand for his head and laughed, remembering the times he buzzcut his hair before he was married and had kids.

           Calum graciously paid the woman and loaded his kids into the car where he sent a picture of the scene from The Office where Jim is sitting next to Dwight, holding a sign that says “6 Days Since Our Last Nonsense.” Almost immediately, she sent a text message back saying “Oh, shit, what happened?” Calum laughed and looked back at Aiden who was still running his hands over his fuzzy head. “Let’s take a picture to send to mom to show her our new haircut.”

           Aiden stopped rubbing his fuzzy head and looked at Calum seriously, “Mama is going to be so sad. She loves our curls, she tells us all the time.” Aiden’s face dropped and the tears started to fill his eyes.

           Calum’s chest tightened and he tried to rear back and make light of the situation. “She does love our curls, but I bet she is going to think we both look incredibly handsome and dashing, especially you.” Calum smiled and winked at Aiden who then smiled, finally agreeing to the picture. Calum snapped the picture and sent it to his wife saying “Peanut butter does not get gum that is ingrained in hair out, I tried. Aiden was unsure about the cut, so I cut mine to make him feel better. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Love you!”

           His phone vibrated as he drove home, but didn’t read it until he was parked in the driveway. As the boys ran inside, he unlocked his phone and read the message, “Noooo! The curls! Well… I guess I still love all three of you, curls or no curls. I can’t wait to feel your soft, fuzzy hair. I love you too.” Calum laughed to himself and made his way inside, heart bursting with love for the woman on the other side of the phone.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday @talkfastromance4

[nkatr84]

Obi Wan/female reader one shot : Waiting part 1/2

When the reader is sixteen, she starts working as a waitress at Dex’s Diner. On her first day, she meets the love of her life. There’s just one problem. He’s a Jedi...

It had been a hectic first day. But you wouldn’t complain. Dex liked that about you. You just did what you were told. Buckled down, smiled at customers and only messed up one order so far. You just prayed to the Force that your natural clumsiness wouldn’t flare up.

The Force had a sense of humor.

One minute Dex had left the kitchens to chat with an old friend. Ordering a round of milkshakes. After setting the third milkshake on the tray, you carefully brought it out of the kitchen. But no sooner had you stepped out into the main dining room, the door of the kitchen swung forward knocking into your feet.

Your feet tripped over themselves and as your body twisted you gasped, seeing the tray flying, the milkshakes up in the air. But as you braced yourself for impact, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you.

You peeked open one eye. Then both eyes opened as you took in the sparkling blue eyes looking down at you in concern. It was a boy about your age. And he was gorgeous. Chiseled jaw just losing its baby fat. A perfect nose. You noticed two moles. One on his cheek and one on his forehead. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Are you alright?” He gently asked, his voice a smooth, refined accent of the upper levels of Coruscant.

“Never better...” you gasped catching your breath. But then you noticed his haircut. Auburn hair buzzcut short, except for one single small braid hanging over his shoulder. Brow furrowed, you realized you hadn’t heard the milkshakes crash to the floor. You glanced around to confirm your suspicions. The milkshakes and tray were floating in midair.

And despite the romance the imagery of being dipped over his knee conjured, reality finally crashed in to ruin the moment. Your savior was a Jedi padawan.

“Hey hey! Looks like your Padawan has good reflexes Qui Gon!” Chuckled Dex from the booth.

Across from him, a tall Jedi with long graying brown hair nodded in amusement,

“One should hope so. Alright Obi Wan I think the poor girl can stand on her own feet again.”

The padawan Obi Wan blushed and righted you on your feet,

“Yes Master.”

“And you can stop showing off. It’s an inappropriate use of the Force.” Qui Gon added, a small wink towards Dex who chuckled, his four arms crossed over his shaking belly.

“Sorry Master.” Obi Wan flushed again, waving his hand. The milkshakes righted themselves and floated over to the table. Obi Wan plucked the tray from midair and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” You said, voice shy and small, eyes cast to your feet.

“You’re welcome.” Obi Wan nodded before sliding into the booth next to his Master. You nodded, returning to your other customers. But not without one last glance over your shoulder at the handsome padawan. It just wasn’t fair.

You tried to forget about the Jedi. But blue eyes haunted your dreams at night. Your mind reasonsed with yourself that the Jedi had a code that forbid attachments. But that didn’t stop your foolish heart from pounding in your chest every time Qui Gon and Obi Wan stopped by the diner for lunch.

It was no use. Having a stupid crush on a Jedi was just part of your reality now. Dex noticed of course. He thought it was hilarious. He made you wait on them every time. You were beginning to suspect he made your schedule out to guarantee you would be working when they came in. You didn’t know how. Especially when they started to go away on more missions and wouldn’t be back for weeks at a time. Once for a whole year. Not that you were counting the days or worrying or anything...

The only way you could cope with the crush was self deprecation. Telling yourself that even if he wasn’t a Jedi, Obi Wan wouldn’t give you a second glance. Oh he was polite and asked how you were, making conversation. But everyone else pretty much ignored you. You even had a customer point out one day that you just had one of those faces that just blended in.

You didn’t think you were ugly. But being a little short and your figure being a bit on the plump side you also weren’t kidding yourself. You guessed that was why you longed for Obi Wan like you did. You couldn’t have him anyway, so you might as well dream of the impossible.

But you also wished someone would want you like you wanted Obi Wan.

In a blink of an eye three years had past. And one day Obi Wan came in by himself. That was new.

“Hey! Obi Wan! Where’s Qui Gon?” Dex wiped his hands on his apron. Your heart twisted at the pained look on his face. Noting how red his eyes were.

“Obi Wan?” Dex pressed, suspicion growing with dread.

“He...fell in battle.” Obi Wan swallowed.

Dex shut his yellow eyes.

“Close the door Kid. We’re closing early today.” The grayish tan alien told you, pain evident.

“Sure Dex.” You nodded crossing over to flip the sign. You were the only waitress working today. Even your droid waitress FLO was out for maintenance. You hadn’t even had a customer all day until Obi Wan came in. The sky rumbled with thunder, the rain matching the mood.

“I’ll take my leave then.” Obi Wan nodded.

“No you sit. We’re going to honor my friend.” Dex let out a shuddering breath, entering the kitchen.

“Will he be alright?” Obi Wan asked you. You jumped hearing a roar of rage and pots crash to the floor.

“He will be. Just give him a minute.” You told him.

Obi Wan nodded then took a seat in his usual booth. Keeping to the edge as if Qui Gon was still beside him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, sliding into the booth across from him.

Obi Wan gave a stiff nod,

“Of course. A Jedi must accept death as a part of life. Less he fall to the Dark side.”

You lifted your brows. That sounded rehearsed. As if he were clinging to that mantra like a life preserver.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” You pointed out.

“No it doesn’t.” He conceded. You then noticed his padawan braid was gone.

“Were you knighted?” You asked.

He scoffed,

“Yeah. The council felt that anybody that can kill a Sith Lord after a thousand years needs to be a Knight.”

“A Sith Lord?” You asked. Obi Wan began to tell you the story. Of the Trade Federation setting up a blockade on Naboo and how they had tried to kill Qui Gon and Obi Wan when they came to negotiate for the Republic. Saving the Naboo Queen and the detour to Tatooine. The discovery of a boy named Anakin with a high M count, strong in the Force. Wicked political plots and the wicked Sith Darth Maul dueling both Qui Gon and Obi Wan. Qui Gon’s death and Obi Wan killing the Sith. Of Qui Gon making Obi Wan promise to train Anakin.

“So I was knighted and now Anakin is my padawan. I don’t know if I’m ready.” He confesses to you.

“Qui Gon believed you were.” You point out.

“Qui Gon also believed Anakin is the Chosen One.” Obi Wan sighed.

“Chosen One?”

“The one meant to bring balance to the Force. Don’t get me wrong. Qui Gon was an excellent teacher. I’m confident that he’s taught me well. But how can the kid that was once destined for the Argricore teach the Chosen One?” He asked.

Your heart swelled. So your Jedi Knight doubted himself too. Why was that so endearing? Maybe because it made your stubborn heart believed you were connected.

But Obi Wan needed a friend. So a friend you would be. You squeezed his hand on the table.

“With patience. Kindness. Devotion. All the qualities that Qui Gon saw in you.” You said.

He gave a small smile, eyes still sad,

“Thank you.”

Dex interrupted you, already swaying on his feet from the Spotcha he had stored in his office. The Besalisk poured a round of shots and you all toasted to Qui Gon. That night Obi Wan helped you get Dex home, who was in no condition to drive. Then he walked you home after the rain let up.

The next ten years you’d think of that night whenever you had a bad date or another Life Day went by alone. Oh you tried to date. But no one made you feel the way Obi Wan did.

You had one steady boyfriend once. A good man. A mechanic. But then you had blown it when he tried to kiss you. You had sighed Obi Wan’s name. He was kind enough to forgive you. Until he surprised you at the diner one day. He had been patiently waiting for your shift to end. When Obi Wan and Anakin walked in.

“There she is Obi Wan!” The thirteen year old pointed you out. Obi Wan gave a friendly smile. You had waved, biting your lips as you saw how the beard Obi Wan was growing out suited him.

But then you had caught your boyfriend’s eye. He gave you a sad smile. He knew. And the pity in his eyes told you he understood your dilemma. You were in love with a man forbidden to love. And while he had been free to love you, he just couldn’t compete. He had left and you never saw him again. You had heard he married a few years later, and you were glad. Meanwhile you would stop trying to date after that.

Funny enough that same day, after your boyfriend had left, you had approached Obi Wan and Anakin to take their order.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Anakin had asked.

“Anakin...”

“Yes he was.” You nodded, setting out their utensils, not adding that you were no longer an item as of five minutes ago.

“Does he think you’re pretty like Obi Wan does?” Anakin had asked.

You looked at the boy stunned as his Master admonished,

“Anakin!”

You glanced at Obi Wan out of the corner of your eye. He was shielding his eyes with his hand, neck and face flushed red. You couldn’t help but be amused. Anakin was more like a annoying kid brother to Obi Wan than student and teacher. You liked the kid enough, but sometimes his confidence struck you as arrogance. He was improving that attitude under Obi Wan though.

“I suppose he did.” You answered, giving them menus.

“Did?” Anakin caught.

“That’s none of our business Padawan.” Obi Wan softly scolded.

“I’ll give you a minute to decide.” You told them.

But you heard over your shoulder,

“Don’t you think she’s pretty Master?”

“Shut up Anakin...”

That stupid flare of hope ignited in you once again.

As years past and Anakin grew, the conflict between the Republic and the Trade Federation Separtists grew into a full blown war. Anakin was soon knighted and given his own padawan along with a command over a clone trooper squad. Obi wan was made a general with his own squadron. The Jedi visits to the diner were rare.

The war and Obi Wan wasn’t the only thing you had to worry about. You had to take several moonlighting jobs during the war. Once you were hired as a server at a fancy gala for Republic senators.

You rarely visited the Upper levels outside Coco Town. The opulence of the ballroom had left you speechless. Still you did your job. When you heard a familiar voice call your name.

You were sure you were gawking as Obi Wan approached you. He looked so dashing in his armor.

“Obi Wan!”

It wasn’t you that called his name. A tall, beautiful woman with blonde hair and rich robes caught his attention.

“Duchess.” He said. You heard the warmth in his tone. The one that matched his eyes. You turned and disappeared into the background, not seeing Obi Wan try to introduce you only to find you gone.

You didn’t really have time to process how Obi Wan had looked at the Duchess over the next few months. You had to earn a living. You started taking waitressing jobs in Coruscant nightclubs. Which required a lot of skimpy short dresses. No one noticed you anyway. So they never bothered you too much.

Until a familiar voice said over the chatter of crowds and booming music,

“No one told me the view here was so lovely.”

With a blush you turned to see Obi Wan once again in his armor approach you.

“Hello Obi Wan.” You nodded.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Well between the taxes the Chancellor imposed on businesses considered non essential to the war, and the taxes that made my rent go up, a girl has to eat. Even Dex has a second job now.” You shrugged.

“Which explains why I saw you at the gala. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were working. I thought you might have been there as someone’s date.” He said.

You scoffed,

“Yeah right. Who would take a girl from Coco town to one of those Upper level parties?”

“I would be proud to have you on my arm.” He said. You looked up at him at that.

“That’s sweet. But I don’t have time for parties these days.” You told him, trying to excuse yourself.

“Maybe...when the war is over?”

You stopped and looked at him in shock. Did he just? No he thought of you as a friend.

“Well you’ll have to win the war first.” You recovered.

“All the more reason to do so then My Dear. And quickly.” He said, lips tugged up. Ugh. When did he get so charming?

“Obi Wan!” Ashoka waved him over next to Anakin, Senator Amidala and a few troopers.

“I should get back to work.” You said.

“If you get off soon or have a break you’re free to join us.” He said kindly.

“Thanks. But as soon as I get off I have to head home to get a few hours sleep. I have to open Dex’s in the morning.” You told him.

“Then I’ll walk you home.” He nodded.

“You don’t have to.” You shook your head.

“I insist. And don’t you dare try to sneak out on me this time.” He told you.

You gave him a mock salute,

“Yes Sir.”

He chuckled and returned to his friends, as you took a steadying breath. But you couldn’t help but hear the Senator ask,

“Will your friend join us Obi Wan?”

“You mean his girlfriend?” Ahsoka teased.

“Snips!”

Obi Wan sighed,

“Anakin do control your padawan.”

It turned out that it wasn’t just Obi Wan to walk you home. You were also escorted by a few of his men. Men that had chuckled when Obi Wan had kissed your cheek goodnight. Until a bark from their general made them snap to attention.

You watched him leave that night, savoring the kiss lingering on your cheek. A memory you would cling to when a month later you got the awful news. Obi Wan had been murdered.

You had wanted to curl up and cry for days after receiving the news from Ahsoka. Anakin was understandably too upset to even speak since it happened. But Dex had gotten himself kriffing drunk when he heard. Someone had to keep the diner going.

The diner was closed the day of the funeral. You had to go solo. Dex couldn’t bring himself to go to it. You had never been to the Jedi temple before. It was massive and almost otherworldly. You were escorted to a lift. Where the Duchess from the ball joined you. She too had tears in her eyes.

You were left alone in the lift together. When she asked,

“How did you know Obi Wan?”

“I work at the diner he liked to go for lunch. He’s been coming ever since he was a padawan. The owner Dex is...was...a good friend. He couldn’t come today.” You explained.

“Sounds like Obi Wan.” She nodded fondly. “He protected me during the Mandalore Civil War. Him and Qui Gon. Then just Obi Wan for nearly a year. We grew so close...”

She sniffed delicately into a hanky, not noticing how you turned green. Of course a beautiful Duchess would turn his head. You were just a plain waitress from the lower levels. A friend. Every moment you thought had been proof of hidden affection for you was just a product of your imagination. You had tried to push away a good friend because of some stupid crush. A stupid crush that he wouldn’t return because of the woman next to you and the Jedi code. And now he was gone.

The lift opened and you exited into a large open air chamber. Your breath catching seeing the body lying in state under a sheet. You only noticed Anakin seething in rage in front of the body. The look on his face gave you chills. The rest of the service you kept your gaze on Obi Wan’s body until the last moment he was lowered into his tomb that slid closed. The emblem of the Jedi craved into his marker.

Unlike other funerals you had attended, once the service was over the Jedi left. Regular mourners like you, the Duchess and Senator Amidala lingered to give final respects. When it was your turn, you whispered,

“I’ll never stop loving you Obi Wan Kenobi. Even if you never loved me.”

You returned home and back to life. A few days later, it was almost closing when a man entered. He was bald headed, and rough looking. A scar and tattoo on his face. Bounty hunter written all over him.

“Hi. Welcome to Dex’s. The kitchen just closed but if you want caff or pie we have plenty.” You greeted with a courteous smile.

He stood there staring at you. He made you nervous. But not afraid. Odd.

“Sir?”

He shook himself,

“Just caff.”

“Coming up.” You nodded turning to grab the pot. You startled when you found him sitting in Obi Wan’s booth. Sure others had sat there, but the way he sat now, it was just too similar. Too eerie.

Something wrong?” He asked, voice gruff but gentle. There was something familiar about it.

“Nothing. It’s just...have we met?” You asked.

“No. I’d remember a pretty girl like you.” He said hiding his smile behind his cup. He wasn’t that attractive, but you blushed nevertheless.

“Not many people would call me pretty.” You said.

“They’re idiots.”

“Well thanks.” You laughed, ready to leave him alone.

“Why are you sad?” He stopped you.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you lose someone?” He pressed.

You gave a short laugh,

“That obvious huh?”

“Who did you lose?” He asked.

“A friend.”

“Just a friend?”

You furrowed your brow,

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. He was just my friend.”

“I meant no offense.” He said as if remembering himself.

“Right...” you nodded wanting to excuse yourself.

“It’s just...I can’t believe a man would just be content to be your friend. I’d imagine...he’d wish things were different. More than once.” He said.

“Maybe. But not with me.” You said.

“Why not?”

“Well at first I thought he was devoted to his calling. A calling I was told didn’t allow for attachments. So I didn’t want to take that away from him. Only later I discovered he had feelings for someone else.” You confessed. Why you were sharing this with a stranger you didn’t know. But it felt good to confess it.

“Maybe he was confused himself. Torn between his calling and his feelings for two different women.” He offered.

“You haven’t seen the other woman.” You scoffed putting down the pot and leaning against the booth.

“Let me guess? Tall? Blonde? Regal?” He prompted.

“Uncanny. You sure we haven’t met?” You asked.

“I’d never forget meeting you.” He said.

It was the twinkle in his eye that had you shaking your head.

“Well. If you had seen them together, there would be no doubt on who he would choose if he wanted to give up his calling. They looked made for each other.” You told him.

“Maybe. But I can see why he’d be drawn to you.”

At your skeptical brow raise he continued, “Your kindness. Your selflessness. Your work ethic.”

“This sounds like a job interview.” You quipped.

“Your eyes. How they light up when you look at him. Your smile would haunt his dreams. Your laugh ringing in his ears. How you treat him like a normal man. Put his happiness ahead of your own. The other woman may have a strength, intelligence and beauty that’s draws him as well, and he does care for her. Deeply. But he can’t imagine a normal life with her. He can with you. It’s tempted him far more than she ever did. All he needed was a word from you.” The stranger went on.

“Who are you?” You asked. He suddenly stood, looking out the window. He exited the booth looking down at you.

“A coward. For not doing this sooner.” He replied. Then he kissed you. Your eyes widened in surprise. Then you melted in his embrace.

Before losing yourself completely, he suddenly bolted into the kitchen. Confused beyond belief, you tried to figure out what just happened. When Anakin stormed in, lightsaber ignited.

“Where is he?” He barked.

“Who?” You asked.

“Rako Hardeen!” He hissed.

“Who?!”

He growled stomping into the kitchen. Ahsoka burst in, out of breath, troopers on her heel.

“What’s going on? Who was that man?” You demanded.

“That’s the man that killed Obi Wan!” She huffed. You collapsed into the booth, feeling sick.

Hours past and you were kept there for questioning. Master Windu had come to question you. If you knew anything about Hardeen. What you talked about. You got the impression that he was trying to see if you were an accomplice. That angered you. It was Master Yoda that stopped him. The wise green Jedi master sensed the truth in you he had said.

“Forgive Master Windu and Young Skywalker you must. Seeking justice they are.” He told you as the Jedi left, a few Clones assigned to take you home.

“It’s not like I asked for a murderer to seek me out. Master Yoda? Why would he kiss me?” You asked, embarrassed. But you had to know.

“Hmm. To get in heads of targets, snipers learn everything about them they do. Saw your friendship with Obi Wan he did. Snipers known to fall for those their target cared about. Happens more than you think.” Yoda assured you.

It made sense. Especially given your odd conversation. Obviously just the man’s misconceptions.

“Hmm. Curious though. Why call himself a coward he did?” He asked. A secret dancing on his little smile as he left you.

To top off the strange day, after the troopers had cleared your apartment, posting a guard outside just in case, you dreamed of the kiss. Only when Hardeen broke the kiss, he had turned into Obi Wan.

You tried to get on with life. Work at the diner during the days, the clubs at night and on your days off. Hardeen was caught and sent to prison. You still dreamed of that kiss.

Months went by. Anakin started to come for lunch. His way of remembering Obi Wan you supposed. Only he only brought Ahsoka half the time. Senator Amidala was often his company. Padme as she insisted you call her. And judging by the looks they gave each other, they weren’t just friends. Which didn’t surprise you. Anakin had always been more willing to break the rules than Obi Wan had.

As much as you enjoyed getting to know them better, you still felt like a third wheel. When Ahsoka and the Clones joined him, you were more inclined to hang out. But seeing them flirting when they thought no one was looking you had to roll your eyes. Did they know how obvious they were?

But one day, you woke up with the realization that you hadn’t dreamt of the kiss. Maybe you were finally moving on. You fixed yourself a full breakfast. Then walked to Dex’s for the afternoon shift. Settling into the routine of taking and filling orders. You were mixing a milkshake when a voice you never thought you’d hear again spoke up.

“Hello there.”

You gasped, dropping the glass. Only it didn’t shatter. You looked and saw it was floating in midair.

“We really must stop meeting like this.” That voice said. You turned. Praying this wasn’t a cruel dream. For there was Obi Wan. His hair was buzzcut short again, his shaven beard growing back in. Smiling gently at you.

“That’s an inappropriate use of the Force.” You reminded him.

“Just say the word and I’ll give it up.” He said.

You blanched,

“What?”

He was interrupted by Dex running from the kitchen,

“Obi Wan! Knew you weren’t dead!”

“Hello Dex.” Obi Wab greeted before being pulled into a tight four armed hug.

The greeting soon turned into a celebration when Anakin, Ahsoka, Padme and the Clones showed up. You were soon given an explanation. Obi Wan had faked his death to go undercover to save the Chancellor from an assassination plot. Taking the identity of Rako Hardeen and even changing his face. Doing the timeline in your head, you realized something.

“That was you that night wasn’t it?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you.” He apologized.

“But why?” You asked.

“I needed to make sure my voice modulator was working correctly. That if a friend who knew me for years couldn’t tell, then I could fool everyone else.” He replied.

Friend. Of course.

“And the kiss? All the things you said?” You asked.

“Well I like to be though.” He quipped, taking a bite of cake.

“I see.”

“You’re angry with me.” He stated.

“Maybe I am. After all Master Kenobi you did manipulate my feelings just to test your dumb disguise.” You clarified.

“Manipulate? I didn’t mean...”

“Next time try Satine. I’m sure she won’t be so easily fooled.” You told him yanking off your apron and stomping out, ignoring Obi Wan calling after you.

It would be almost a year before you saw him again. Anakin said he was focused on ending the war. Not that you asked about him. More than...six times. This time you suspected Dex had changed your schedule so you could avoid the Jedi. Until one night when you showed up for the late shift. Dex was sick again. So you would have to close up. Luckily you didn’t have to work the clubs tonight.

Only when you got there, you saw Obi Wan in his usual booth.

“He’s been sitting there all day. Won’t let me or FLO get him anything.” the other waitress Hermoine told you. You sighed tying on your apron. You still had a job to do.

“What can I get you General?” You had asked.

“That depends.” He replied.

“On?”

“If you’re still mad at me?” He asked.

You laughed softly, folding your arms,

“Believe it or not Obi Wan, regular people don’t hold on to past grievances. We’ve got lives to live.”

“I know. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” He said.

“I’m sorry about Satine.” You offered. You had heard it from the news. The Duchess assassinated. Mandalore under the control of a mysterious crime boss. The fate of the war up in the air.

“Thank you.” He said softly. Eyes sad.

“You were there weren’t you?” You guessed taking a seat.

“I tried to rescue her. I can’t say much, but the man who killed her is an old enemy of mine. He wanted me to suffer. I barely escaped.” Obi Wan told you.

“I’m sure she knew you did your best.” You assured him.

“She told me she loved me. That she always would.” He confessed.

Your heart skipped a beat,

“And what did you tell her?”

“That had she said the word, I’d have left the order.” He said.

“You did love her.” You said. But not me, you thought.

“Remember that year Qui Gon and I went to help during the Mandalore Civil War?” He asked.

“Yes. Satine told me. At your funeral. You spent a year together.” You recalled.

“We did grow close. And if she had asked I would have left the order. If I hadn’t mucked up our one and only kiss.” He explained.

“Mucked up how?”

“I called her by your name.” He confessed.

“What?” You blinked.

“She was furious. I tried to explain but I didn’t know how. I still don’t to be honest.” He said.

Your brain stopped working. You tried to process his words.

“I devoted myself to the Order because it was easier to ignore the fact that I cared for not just one woman but two. So I wouldn’t have to choose. That cost one of you your life. And it’s not fair. To either of you.

I only thank the Maker that no one knows about you. None of my enemies anyway. To be on the safe side a trooper will be working undercover here to protect you. You might have to pretend to be dating him.”

Obi Wan had grumbled this last part.

“Jealous?” You teased him.

“Very. But I promise you once this blasted war is over, I’m not going to keep you waiting anymore. I’ll leave the Order and we’ll figure out what we have. Together.” He stated.

“Are you just saying this because I’m your only choice now?” You asked.

He looked confused,

“What? No...I...”

You stopped him by taking his hand,

“Obi Wan. The Force chose you to have these marvelous gifts. To be used for good. Even before I knew about Satine I never wanted you to give that side of yourself up for me. I love you for who you are. As you are. I’ve dreamed of you wanting me as I’ve wanted you. But because you can’t live without me. Not because you’re scared to lose me. Correct me if I’m wrong but that’s the path to the Dark Side right?”

“Right as always my Darling.” He conceded.

[ozarkthedog]

Omg that last prompt is hot asf! Can you do a fluffy one where chris is stressed and has been taking calls all morning and she tries to calm him down? Maybe a two aprt one where they both suffer from anxiety so they both have different ways of calming each other? Thank you!

Thank you, Anon!  💙 It’s a 2 for one!

Warnings: FLUFF. Swearing and Crying.

First one shot- Chris is stressed and seeks reader out.

Second One Shot- Reader has a panic attack and Chris helps.

No beta, all fuck ups are my own.

Stress Relief

Chris hung up the phone and chucked it down onto this desk. Sighing out, he leans his elbows on the desk putting his head into his hands. It’s been a long morning, full of phone calls and interviews via Zoom. He enjoys talking about and promoting his new project, but today it’s been nonstop.

He can feel his stress levels rising thinking of how many more calls he has lined up. Gritting his teeth, he picks up his coffee mug and exits his office. Perhaps a hug from you and a refill on his coffee will help. Whenever you cross his mind, he instantly cheers up. You’re one of the few people besides Dodger that can lift his mood just by being around him.

As he walks into the kitchen, he sees your hips swaying to the quiet beat flowing through the speakers coming from the ceiling. He stops for a second leaning against the door frame, smiling to himself as he watches you sing along and mix together some ingredients for whatever it is your baking. Dodger is laying out in his dog bed by the over-sized windows soaking up the sunlight, napping away.

The smell of banana bread hits his nose and he groans giving away his position. You turn on the spot and let out a squeak. “Chris! You scared me!” Clutching your chest, you hate how easily you get scared.

“I’m sorry, Babe. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was only basking in how fucking cute you are.” He says as he walks over to you. Taking you in his arms he presses his body against yours, his lips meet yours for a long, tender kiss.

He pulls his lips from yours, but keeps his hold on you, savoring the calm that radiates off of you. He closes his eyes and just breaths in your smell and the delicious Banana Bread wafting in the breeze. Letting his head just fall to your shoulder, he nuzzles up to your neck.

You run your hands over the back of his neck and up into onto his scalp. Switching between soft rubs and light scratches over his growing buzzcut. He purrs against your neck, the tension easing from his bones. He presses kisses to the side of your neck making you giggle and struggle from the way his beard tickles your neck.

Chris’ heart lightens up whenever you laugh, it’s one of his most favorite sounds.

“Chris! Stop! That tickles!” you shout out, begging him to ease up.

He laughs out but ceases his kisses, standing back up to kiss you again but only this time more forcefully. He cages you into the kitchen island and deepens the kiss making the both of you moan. You grasp his dark sweater out of lust, never wanting to stop kissing him.

Sadly, he pulls away, “I’ve got to stop before it’s too late.” You both smile at one another knowing there will be time for intimacy later. Your eyes travel from his soft eyes to his sweater and gasp, “Oh no! I messed up your sweater!”

He looks down and spots 2 small fist shaped prints on his dark sweater. The white color from the flour makes it stand out even more against his sweater. He bellows out a laugh, “Were you enjoying yourself, Babe?”

“As a matter of fact, I was.” You say cheekily before trying to smack out the flour from the material. He places his hands over yours to stop your cleaning, “Don’t worry. I’ll just put on a new sweater.”

You sigh out with relief not wanting to add to his already hectic day. Sliding from his grasp you cross the kitchen to start back on making another batch of Banana Bread. Chris makes his way to the coffee maker and ours himself another cup.

He leans back on the counter, sipping on his rich coffee. Content with watching you mash up the bananas and look over the directions another few minutes until he has to go put on a new sweater and get back to work.

-Second One Shot-

You pace frantically around the house worried about your upcoming travels. You enjoyed traveling, not just not alone. This would be the first time you’d go without Chris and it terrified you. He always put you at ease knowing he was by your side when you had to travel.

Chris knew you were nervous about the upcoming trip, he wished he could accompany you, but he had a set of interviews he had to travel for himself. He could hear your pacing from down the hall in his office, reigning to the fact that he wouldn’t get anymore work done until he helped you, he shut his laptop and went to go find you.

Your nerves felt electrified. You’re breathing was starting to get faster and faster and your chest was tightening up. You knew the signs of the oncoming panic attack but you tried to shove it away, as you paced through the dining room.

You made it to the living room before collapsing into a pile on the rug. You cried out, finally letting the tears fall. You were gasping, barely getting any air when Chris found you in a ball on the carpet.

“Oh Babe, come here.” He says softly, easily picking you up and carrying you over to the large sectional. He sat you in the lap and laid your head to his chest, “I need you to breath, Y/N. Breath with me.” You cried out, tears staining your cheeks before falling into this old t-shirt.

Chris tried to hush you with a deep voice, “Come on. Breath, Y/N. In and out.” He took one large breath slowly filling his lungs and then slowly released it. You followed his directions, hard to breath from all the tears but you complied and took as deep of a breath as you could.

You felt his hand comb through your hair as he took another large exaggerated breath, trying to calm your nerves. Every breath he took, you followed suit. One in, one out. Slow and steady. Your frantic heartbeat started slowing down as you got fresh air into your lungs.

You stayed laying on his chest for a while, listening to his heart beat as he rubbed your lower back. When you felt calm enough you pulled away, turning so he wouldn’t have to look at you.

Embarrassed at your behavior, you apologize to him. You start to get up to leave before he wraps a hand around your waist and bear hugs you from behind. His voice is deep and firm in your ear, “Never apologize to me again for having a panic attack.”

You sniffle and turn in his arms to face him. “Thank you for helping me calm down.”

He looks you over with adoration, “I will always be here for you. And I know you can do this. You are a strong ass woman.”

You chuckle at his words as you wipe the tears from your eyes, “I know. I’m just really going to miss you. It won’t be the same.”

His face saddens a bit. He hates having to be away from you for so long. “I know, Babe. I’m going to miss you too. But we will be back together before you know it.” His hand reaches up to cup your jaw, grounding you to his calm frame.

“You’re right.” You sigh out but continue, “I might as well make the most of it while I’m there.”

He smiled at that, “Atta girl! You can do this. I know you can.”

A smile graces your face as he brings your forehead to his. His eyes are full of devotion as they stare at yours before he angles your jaw to bring your lips together for a soft, loving kiss

[morningfears]

Rose Tattoo [Chapter One]

Rating: PG-13 | Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of a panic attack.

Summary: Inspired by this blurb. | Calum is a tattoo artist. Stevie is getting her first tattoo. She’s terrified but determined and though Cal looks tough, when he takes off his jacket, Stevie notices the marker staining his arms and realizes that he’s a gentle giant who lets his son use him as a living coloring book. They hit it off but are either of them ready for anything more? [I’ll come up with a better fic summary later, promise.]

Word Count: 8.3k

series masterlist | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

Stevie could see the clouds of her breath curling around her face, rising and disappearing just as quickly as they appeared, as she weaved through the crowds cluttering the sidewalk. She was uncomfortably aware of the eyes on her, small-town tourists staring at the shock of green hair atop her head, as she waited at a crosswalk. She focused on the music blaring in her headphones, on the bitter cold nipping at the slivers of exposed skin, on evening her breathing and keeping her face void of emotion, as she attempted to ignore them. 

She hadn’t lived in New York long, barely two months, but the adjustment period had been painfully short. She’d learned, almost immediately, the best ways to avoid anyone asking her for directions or tips about the city. She’d also learned how to navigate the city through the path of least resistance (read: tourists). She rarely crossed paths with them, usually only on the subway to and from her office, as she tried not to venture too far from her own neighborhood. However, it seemed unavoidable today.

Stevie’s job kept her in the same general area. She usually met artists she was scheduled to interview near her office for coffee or in the park nearby if the weather permitted. Her neighborhood, though not perfect by any means, had everything that she needed to live - including an overpriced grocery store and a Vietnamese restaurant whose staff knew her, and her usual order, by name. There was a gym close enough and a coffee shop that made the best chai latte she’d ever had. The only things it lacked were the things that she rarely needed, like a good tattoo shop.

The tattoo shop at the end of her block with blinking neon signs and Sailor Jerry-esque artwork covering the walls didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. The owner, and the most prominent artist, lived across the hall from her and seemed more concerned with his reputation than with good art. The shop itself catered mostly to a certain brand of wannabe Instagram influencers and specialized in a type of tattoo that she didn’t want. So, to her dismay, she found herself having to step outside of the comfort zone she’d constructed and venture across the city to a tattoo shop a friend from work recommended. 

Stevie felt a flurry of emotions swirling in the pit of her stomach as she drew closer and closer to the shop. She was excited, of course, because she had always loved tattoos. Her dream as a child was to be covered in them, a dream that she abandoned when she realized that she was too indecisive for something so permanent. However, she was also terrified. Needles had always been a fear of hers. Although she’d been pierced several times, her nose and ears and belly button were all bejeweled, none of her piercings took longer than a few minutes. The needle was in and out before she could really think about the choice she’d made and that was it.

Tattoos, on the other hand, were a different story.

She knew that the appointment would be at least a few hours long and the thought of sitting there for so long, immobile as a needle was repeatedly driven into her skin, made her nauseous as she stood outside the shop and attempted to control her breathing. She knew that she would be fine once they began the process, it was just getting into the shop and getting started that freaked her out. She knew, though, without a doubt that she had to get the tattoo. She couldn’t back out but the thought of postponing briefly crossed her mind as she stared at the bright blue neon sign in the window.

After sending Calum her references and telling him exactly what she wanted, he recommended two sessions. Her tattoo consisted mostly of fine lines and intricate detail, something Calum was comfortable with but knew would take more than the standard few hours, and neither really wanted to plan a day session. The first session was for line work, to get the basic outline of the tattoo onto her skin in black ink, while the second - scheduled for two weeks later - was to be spent adding color and detail. It made sense and she was happy that he didn’t push a day session but she almost wished she could just get it all over with immediately. At least that way she would only have to begin a session once.

As she stood outside the shop, gathering herself and hoping that she didn’t look as panicked as she felt, the world around her faded. She no longer heard the noise from the street or the loud hum of neon. She didn’t see the bright blue glow or the buildings reflected in the shop’s plate glass window. She didn’t notice the people passing her by, brushing past her without so much as a glance in her direction, nor did she notice the one person who decided to stop as her nerves held a firm grip on her. It was all white noise and a meaningless blur as she breathed in deeply through her nose and exhaled through her mouth.

Stevie only became aware of the person when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Stevie jumped, startled out of her reverie, and turned to face the stranger. She recognized him from the few photographs she’d seen on his Instagram - there were very few of his face but he’d posted one recently so she recognized the buzzcut and fading blue dye - and felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment as she met Calum’s eyes. She had hoped that she would have herself together by the time she met him, she didn’t want to give him pause, but that seemed to be out of the question as he stood in front of her.

He didn’t look nearly as intimidating in person as he did in pictures and that eased some of the worry in the pit of her stomach. However, Stevie still found herself shrinking under his gaze. A few tattoos - the majority stark black and traditional, a mixture of intricate lines and simple designs from what she had seen online - peeked out of the collar of his shirt, a few more decorated his hands, and she tried not to stare as she took him in. His eyes, contrary to the mask of indifference he wore, were soft and concerned as he moved his hand from her shoulder and let it drop to his side.

Calum stared at her for a moment. He hadn’t made it a habit to stop and chat with pedestrians he happened across,  regardless of where he happened across them (including in front of the tattoo shop where he worked). In the six years he’d lived in New York, he’d learned how to keep walking. He knew how to tune out the city around him and had gotten over the deep seated desire to help lost tourists or recent transplants. But something about this girl was different. 

Her short hair, an artful mix of dark brown and green, was mussed - Calum assumed it was both the wind and her seemingly nervous habit of running her fingers through it - and her knuckles were white as she clutched her jacket tight against her body. Her face, illuminated in the late afternoon sun, looked mildly panicked but he could see a steely resolution in the set of her shoulders. It was interesting, the mixture of emotion he saw swirling in her eyes, and he felt compelled to speak to her.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he began, his voice quiet and soft in the din of the city as to not frighten her further but loud enough for her to hear, “but I just wanted to see if you were alright?”

It took Stevie a moment to gather herself, to formulate a response and push it through the thick cotton of panic that had formed in her mouth, but Calum seemed in no rush as he watched her knit her brows and internally assess herself. “Sure,” she nodded quickly, the word forced from her mouth and sounding garbled as she brought a hand up to run her fingers through her freshly dyed hair, “yeah. I’m fine. I’m just, uh, just a little nervous is all.” When Calum raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue speaking, she added, “About getting a tattoo, my first one. I mean, I didn’t just pick a random tattoo studio to have a breakdown in front of. I know that it’s silly but, yeah.”

Stevie noted that Calum’s gaze were curious, maybe a little amused, but in no way judgmental. He understood her apprehension and saw it more often than not with his clients. Getting a tattoo was a big commitment; they hurt, they could take hours to complete, they could be expensive (if they wanted a good tattoo), and they’re permanent. Although he had more than his fair share, Calum still felt a lingering nervousness in the back of his mind any time he added a piece to his ever-growing collection (though it usually faded to a sort of excitement, something of an adrenaline rush) but he remembered how nervous he had been for his first tattoo and couldn’t blame her for needing a moment to settle her nerves.

“It’s not,” he assured her with a shake of his head. “It’s normal, especially for the first one. Nerves are a part of the process,” he stated with a nod that suggested finality as he moved out of the path of pedestrians. She stepped to the side - subtly, he noted, but just enough to put a small distance between them - and averted her gaze as he glanced at his watch. He lifted his head, turning his gaze to her once more, before he asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be Stevie, would you?”

“Yep,” she nodded, placing an emphasis on the ‘p’, before she huffed out a sigh, “although I wish I was anyone but at the moment. Calum, right?” When he nodded, Stevie copied the gesture and offered him a weak smile. “Sorry you’re getting stuck with such a baby for a few hours. I have to get this tattoo. I’m just…” She paused, her eyebrows furrowed and her shoulders dropping, before she added, “Needles.” 

Calum raised an eyebrow at her explanation as he took in the septum ring and the several studs and rings in her ears. He was sure he’d seen a flash of silver when she opened her mouth and he felt certain that if he looked closer, he’d see a barbell in her tongue. “You have a nose ring,” he pointed out as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and took in the gunmetal ring looped through her septum, “and I’m pretty sure I saw a tongue ring.”

Stevie huffed indignantly and crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her head. Her cheeks, already pink from the cold, deepened in color as the embarrassment heated her body. “Tattoos and piercings are different,” she defended as she glanced at the people passing them by, “one lasts thirty seconds, at most, and the other takes hours. I’d rather be jabbed with a needle once than have someone keep stabbing me. It’s…” Stevie paused, searching her brain for the right words to adequately describe her feelings, before she settled on, “It’s the repetition, I guess.”

Calum laughed at Stevie’s explanation and she wanted nothing more than to turn and walk away from the conversation. She imagined that he didn’t mean any harm - she hoped that he didn’t, anyway - but she didn’t like feeling like she was being made fun of. She knew that she was being overly sensitive, that her anxiety lowered her threshold for rationality, but she still didn’t like it. However, she wanted Calum to tattoo her - she needed him to tattoo her - so she bit her tongue and stood still as she contemplated her next move.

Calum, sensing the shift in Stevie’s attitude, shook his head and pushed away from the wall. “If that’s how it is for you, that’s how it is for you,” Calum offered with a shrug as he attempted to catch her eye again, “but, trust me when I tell you that you probably won’t be my worst client this week. As long as you don’t faint, you’re miles ahead of a guy I had a few days ago.”

Stevie paled at the mention of fainting and Calum realized, too late, that that might not have been as reassuring as he’d intended it to be. He’d hoped to put her at ease, to relax her before he brought her into the shop, but with how tight she was wound, he didn’t imagine he would be able to. Instead, he sighed and stepped around her to head toward the door. “You ready to head in? I’ve got some designs drawn up. We can look at them and you can decide which one you like best.”

“Sure,” she nodded as she stepped through the door and into the studio itself. “Sorry I’m so early. You know how some people are chronically late? I have the exact opposite problem.”

“You should stick around, teach us your ways,” Calum hummed as he followed her in. “No one here is ever on time.”

“Fuck you. I am always on time.” Stevie turned just in time to catch sight of a crumbled ball of paper flying toward Calum’s head. The culprit, a man with inky black hair and an array of black and red tattoos, was seated at a drawing table and smiled at her when she caught his eye.

“When you own the place, I guess you can never really be late,” Calum deadpanned as he stepped around her and gestured for her to take a seat on the couch in the corner. “Hang out here for a second,” he instructed as he reached for the crumbled ball of paper on the floor, “I’ll go grab the designs and we can talk about placement and get everything figured out.”

Stevie nodded and watched as Calum navigated the array of equipment with practiced ease. He paused for a moment, long enough to nudge the - well, the owner, she guessed - and laugh as he messed up a line, before he disappeared through a door marked ‘staff only’. She glanced around the building, her eyes raking over the various paintings and prints and flash sheets that covered the walls, and found herself getting lost in the artwork as she waited for Calum to return.

**********************

As Stevie was twenty minutes early for her appointment - something that he appreciated; he would rather clients arrive early and have to wait for him to be ready than have them arrive late and derail his schedule for the day - Calum didn’t feel so bad taking a moment to breathe as he sifted through his files to find the few designs he’d created for her. Though it was barely three in the afternoon, his day had already been long. He’d been up since four that morning and he wanted nothing more than to finish her tattoo and head home.

The tattoo itself was fairly simple in concept, a bouquet of roses in shades of red and green with a ribbon tying them together (the only odd detail was a small skull pin on the ribbon), but the tattoo itself was quite large. He’d warned her, over email, that it would likely become close to a half sleeve if he made it as detailed as she wanted and she hadn’t been deterred at all. Despite it being her first tattoo, something she mentioned, she seemed incredibly committed to making it work. 

Normally, Calum wouldn’t have minded sitting for a full session. The tattoo wouldn’t have taken more than ten hours and, though he hated marathon sessions, he could’ve done it. However, their schedules never quite clicked and the only time Stevie could get into the shop was after three in the afternoon. In another life, four years earlier, Calum wouldn’t have hesitated to accept staying in the shop until one in the morning. A session that ran late into the night would’ve just been another day at work for him. But, as fate would have it, he was no longer able to schedule his life so selfishly.

The deciding factor in his availability was - and had been for nearly five years - his son.

Calum became a father at the young age of twenty and his apprenticeship (back when he first began tattooing), his bookings now, his life; they all revolved around Tāne’s schedule. He had a babysitter, one that watched Tāne after school and kept him until Calum’s last appointment of the day finished, but it wouldn’t be fair to either his son or the babysitter to accept an appointment that lasted so long. Even if it was a one off appointment, he wanted to get home, to have dinner with his son and read him a bedtime story or just tuck him in, just as much as he wanted the babysitter to be free to go home and do her homework or see her own parents. 

Calum had seen friends, men older than him and even some younger, that let their lives be consumed by their work and made their families pay for it. They chose local celebrity, fleeting online fame, over their home lives and he’d seen what it could do firsthand. He’d seen them end up divorced and alone, unable to get weekends with their children despite promising to be there for them. He’d seen them depressed, missing a part of themselves they hadn’t even known they’d had until it was gone. He’d met the teenage children of older artists and had been told stories about their childhoods, dealing with the absence of their fathers. And he desperately wanted to avoid that.

Calum wanted to be present for his son. He wanted to be a steadfast figure in his life, to be there whenever he needed him, so every decision was made with him in mind. His decision to cut a ten hour session into two shorter, five hour ones was made with Tāne in mind. It gave him time to pick up his son from school - they got out at 1:00 on Fridays - and spend a few hours with him before he had to disappear to the shop. It also helped ensure that he would be home in time to tuck his son into bed before he passed out himself. It ensured that he wouldn’t be dead on his feet, dragging into the living room as Tāne begged for chocolate chip pancakes and Saturday morning cartoons. It ensured that he wouldn’t be a shell of himself, present in body but absent in mind.

It ensured that he would be able to give his son the attention he deserved.

He leaned against the counter, staring at the transfer paper in his hands without truly seeing it, and took a deep breath. He could already feel the tension in his shoulders. It was present after the long morning he’d had and he could already anticipate the aching pain that came with sitting hunched over for hours at a time. He’d done a marathon session the day before, an eight hour tattoo that ended with a beautiful piece and a customer he could count on seeing again, but it left him aching and ready for a day off. However, as he lifted his head and turned to face the shelves, he reasoned that at least this session wouldn’t be so bad with the placement of Stevie’s tattoo.

After gathering himself, after clearing his head, Calum grabbed the items he would need from the supply closet and returned to set up his station. He imagined that Stevie would be sitting on the couch, waiting patiently as she attempted not to panic, but to his (almost lack of) surprise, he found her sitting on one of the extra artist stools with her chin in her hand as she watched Ashton outline a tattoo he was working on for Michael. Ashton looked calm, happy, even, as he explained the design to her and Calum rolled his eyes.

Stevie was cute, that much he could admit. Her hair, something she’d smoothed since stepping into the shop, was a shock of green among the blacks and blues of the shop. She was a strange mixture of hard edges and soft lines with but Calum imagined that that only added to her intrigue. Her cheeks seemed permanently flushed despite the warmth of the shop and Calum imagined that it was her nerves. Ashton, however, seemed to have a sixth sense for flirting with cute, nervous clients and it was starting to get old. He told everyone it was to help them be at ease, to calm their nerves before the tattoo, but Calum imagined it was more to help him get laid.

He let them be for a moment, long enough to drop the items he’d gathered onto the stand beside his station, before he decided to interrupt them. “If I could have my client back, mate,” Calum called, glancing over at the pair of them as he unzipped his jacket and began to shrug it off, “we can go ahead and get started.”

Ashton, used to Calum’s interruptions, shot him an easy grin as he nodded. “I was just keeping her company until you were ready for her. She’s all yours,” Ashton assured him with a mock salute before he returned his full attention to the drawing in front of him.

Stevie smiled at Calum, a little uneasy grin that seemed to be a reflex more than anything, before she returned the stool to the station she’d grabbed it from and crossed the shop to join him. As he arranged his set up, his movements steady and practiced, Stevie shrugged off her coat and paused for a moment. She glanced around the shop, empty save for her, Calum, and Ashton, before she asked, “I have on an undershirt. Like, I’m wearing a tank top beneath the long sleeve. Do I just…?”

Calum glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, an amused laugh leaving his lips as he watched her hesitate. “Yeah,” he nodded as he grabbed the black ink, “long sleeve has to go. You can take it off out here or there’s a bathroom over there.”

Stevie stood frozen, seemingly unsure, and Calum almost urged her toward the bathroom but before he could, she gripped the hem of her long sleeve with one hand and the hem of her tank top with another. She tugged the black garment up and over her head, huffing as it mused her hair even further and as she hit her elbow on the corner of the countertop behind her. She remained stuck in the garment for a moment, struggling to free herself, and Calum had to bite back a laugh as she rubbed her elbow with a frown on her lips.

“Right,” she nodded after dropping her shirt onto her bag and taking a moment to watch him set up - something he felt almost too aware of. “Where do you want me?”

Calum didn’t look at her as he arranged the little pots of ink on his workstation. Instead, he nodded his head toward the designs laying on the counter of his station. “Have a look at those for me,” he encouraged as he reached for the box of gloves beside him, “let me know which one you like the most and we’ll see how it looks in terms of placement and size.”

Calum’s station was in a corner of the shop. There were mirrors surrounding him, something that he felt almost neutral about most days, but he used them to his advantage as he watched Stevie through the mirror. He watched, curious, as she carefully traced her fingers over the designs laying on the counter and analyzed the emotions on her face. She hadn’t told him what the tattoo was for, he hadn’t asked, but he had gotten good at recognizing emotion in his years as an artist. He’d always been good at reading people, it was a gift, but he’d learned how to spot grief despite the many faces it wore as he’d done more memorial tattoos than he could count. Each circumstance was different, everyone dealt with grief in their own way, but the tattoo serving as a memorial explained why she felt so strongly about getting the tattoo (including the size and details) despite her obvious nerves.

Although he was outwardly the most reserved artist in the shop, he had always been the one that felt the deepest connection with other people. He empathized far too strongly for his own good and sometimes he hated that part of his job. He sat with people for hours, inking permanent memorials into their skin and listening as they told him stories of parents or grandparents or, God forbid, children that had passed and his heart bled for each one. He never knew what the session would bring - whether they would be an open book or whether the grief was too fresh to even consider speaking - and he didn’t know what to expect with Stevie. Usually, he knew what he was hoping for - more often than not, it was a happy medium that didn’t leave him emotionally drained by the end of an appointment - but with Stevie, he found himself unsure of what he hoped for.

But, by the way her hand shook and her breathing stuttered when she followed the outline of the skull with soft fingers, Calum knew that, regardless of the session itself, he hoped that the experience would bring her some semblance of closure.

Calum was finished setting up his station by the time she chose a design. He didn’t want to push, not when he could see tears glittering on her lashes, so he leaned against the counter and waited for her to speak. “This one,” she finally breathed, her voice quiet in the nearly empty shop. “This one’s perfect.”

The design wasn’t much different than her original request, it was still a bouquet of roses with the ribbon and skull (a detail she’d insisted on), but there were a few smaller flowers throughout as well as a few more intricate lines and details. It was, without a doubt, the hardest of the drawings to place onto her skin, it would bump the session up to twelve hours instead of ten, but it was his favorite, too.

Calum never gave his opinion on which design a client should choose. At the end of the day, it was their body. However, he found himself breathing, “I was hoping that’s the one you’d go for,” before he knew what he was saying. He didn’t know why but something about her vulnerability made him want to assure her that she was making the right decision.

Stevie looked up from the counter and when he met her eyes, his heart broke for her. He could see a glassy sheen of unshed tears and beneath the layer of nerves, he could see just how lost she looked. It was a jarring change, gone were the flushed cheeks and doe eyes, replaced by sadness, and it was hard to keep himself together as he watched her nod. “Let’s get this stencil on, then, and see what it looks like,” he mumbled, his voice quiet as he reached for the stencil and beckoned her closer to him.

Stevie seemed lost in her own thoughts so Calum worked in silence. He didn’t speak as he placed the stencil on her upper arm, exactly where she’d asked for, and was glad to see that the measurements he’d used had worked in just the way he’d hoped. It was a big tattoo, especially for the first, but - and Calum wasn’t sure if this was his own selfish desire to make his tattoos look as if they had always been a part of his clients’ bodies - it looked like it belonged.

Calum stared at it for a moment, his eyes raking over the pale purple lines on her skin, and he decided that it was beautiful. It fit her perfectly, exactly the way he’d hoped it would, and she echoed the thought as she breathed, “It’s beautiful. It looks perfect.”

“The placement is okay?” he asked, just to be sure, as he nudged her toward the full length mirror to get a better look at the angle. She stared at her reflection for a moment, her eyes glued to her right arm, and nodded. Calum, happy that she was happy, repeated the gesture and pointed to the chair. “Okay. Take a seat for me and we’ll. Get started.”

Stevie settled into the chair and kept her eyes on her hands, folded across her lap, as Calum settled onto his stool beside her. He could see the shaking in her limbs, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tried to steady her breathing, but she was quiet. She didn’t want to give him pause, he realized that, and he admired her follow through as she was clearly panicked. The only sound that echoed through the shop was the scratch of Ashton’s pencil against paper and the sound of traffic outside. Calum almost didn’t want to break the silence. It wasn’t awkward, just pensive, but he had to get started so he said, “I’m going to start with a line, just to give you a feel for it. Remember to breathe for me and let me know how you’re doing. If you need a break, tell me and I’ll stop.”

Calum kept his eyes on her arm as he traced one line onto her skin. He heard a sharp intake of breath over the hum of the machine but, to his surprise, she kept perfectly still. She was rigid, almost alarmingly so, and had her nails dug into her palms but she nodded at him. “I’m fine. It’s fine,” she assured him, her voice tight as she stared straight ahead at the artwork on the wall, “Go ahead.”

Stevie kept her posture for the first thirty minutes of her tattoo. Those long minutes passed in silence, Calum focused on the bigger lines that gave the entire image shape, and Stevie kept her eyes on the wall. He glanced at her every so often, just to make sure she hadn’t passed out, and was somewhat surprised at how well she seemed to be holding herself together. Her anxiety faded as they went on, her body relaxing and her breathing evening, and nearly an hour into the process, Calum could feel her eyes on him. 

Stevie watched him work but her gaze wasn’t scrutinizing, just curious. She was engaged in the process and Calum was glad to see that she’d calmed at least somewhat since their initial meeting. He didn’t mind silent sessions, ones where the clients didn’t speak at all, but he was curious. He wanted to know exactly what the tattoo stood for so he asked, “Why a bouquet with the skull?”

Stevie hesitated, her eyes glued to his hands as he traced another line, and he almost retracted his question. However, before he could open his mouth, she sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest. “It’s for a friend,” she offered, her voice quiet and barely audible over the buzz of the machine. “She died a few months ago.”

Calum occasionally offered his ear to clients - some he didn’t have to offer it to, they were more than willing to spill regardless of his feelings on the matter - and he felt the need to listen to Stevie’s story. So, as he paused to wipe at the ink on her skin, he asked, “You want to talk about it? I’ve been told tattoo artists are like therapists. Just, less frequent visits. For most people, anyway.”

Stevie cracked a smile at Calum’s attempted banter and he was surprised at the feeling of accomplishment that blossomed in his chest. He never really invested himself in his clients’ lives, he had his own shit to worry about, but he felt for her. Losing a friend so young - she had to be his age or younger - and one that meant enough for her to face her fear and get a tattoo for had to be hard. And, if her accent was anything to go by, she was a long way from home and likely didn’t have anyone to vent to. So, he felt compelled to offer her an open ear.

“It was cancer,” she finally answered after such a prolonged silence that Calum had almost forgotten he’d asked. He glanced up from the line he was working on and frowned as she kept her eyes on the ceiling. “Her name was Angela. We were best friends for ages. She was the first friend I made when I moved after Katrina and we did everything together. We went to college together. We were going to move up here together. But she got sick.” Stevie paused for a moment, gathering herself, and Calum almost reached for the box of tissues on Luke’s station but stopped himself as he continued tattooing. “She dropped out, couldn’t keep up with the work because of the chemo, and that was it. She died. She had this bucket list, all these things she wanted to do before before she died, and I promised her I’d finish it for her. The tattoo was the next thing on the list. She really wanted the roses. You wouldn’t have thought it, looking at her, but she loved flowers.”

“Shit,” Calum breathed, his voice barely audible despite the absence of the buzzing machine. “That’s… I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what else he could say. 

“Don’t be,” Stevie shrugged before quickly apologizing for the movement. “She’s not suffering anymore. It got really bad toward the end. She was in a lot of pain. I would’ve preferred she got better, of course, but an end’s an end, I guess.” She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she attempted to blink back tears, before she added, “The skull is this ring she wore literally every day. Her mom gave it to me.” She lifted her left hand and pulled a long chain from beneath the neckline of her tank top. At the end dangled a small silver ring in the shape of a skull with two red gems for eyes.

Calum, despite his countless jokes about how much they annoyed him, couldn’t imagine losing any of his friends. They were his brothers, they always had been, and he knew that no matter how much they exhausted him,  he’d be lost without them. They made his world better, they made his son’s world better, and if he lost one of them, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to properly function. He admired what she was doing, finishing her friend’s bucket list, and felt honored to be part of the quest.

However, before Calum had the chance to tell her as much, Stevie shook her head. “Sad hours are over,” she laughed as she brought her left hand up to wipe at her eyes. “What about you?” she asked, glancing at his arm. “Your tattoos are beautiful. I really like the intricate line work - it looks good on you - but it looks like someone’s been coloring outside the lines.”

Calum was mildly thrown off by the sudden shift in her attitude but found himself glancing at his forearms, at the tattoos she could easily see beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt, and flushed as he caught sight of the neon marker staining his skin. “My son,” he explained, smiling sheepishly at her. “He likes coloring in my tattoos. Some of them are a little too intricate for him to stay inside the lines but he likes it and the markers stain.”

Calum could see Stevie’s face light up with a smile out of the corner of his eye. The crushing sadness, the loss, that had been so clear only a moment earlier faded slightly as she took in the marker staining his skin. “That’s so sweet,” she cooed, her accent growing thicker as she brought her left hand to her heart. “He’s got a living coloring book. How old is he?” She paused for a moment, considered her question, and then added, “If you don’t mind me asking, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Calum assured her, a soft smile on his lips as he nodded toward the photo of Tāne he kept on his station. “That’s him. He’s almost five.”

“Four and three quarters, thank you,” Ashton, who had been silent throughout their conversation, interjected with a bright grin as he was given the opportunity to talk about his pseudo-nephew.

“Four and three quarters,” Calum agreed with a laugh, “yeah. He gets offended if you forget that part.”

“I’m the same way with my height,” Stevie nodded, “I get it. He’d adorable. He looks just like you and I’m assuming he’s got the artist thing down, too?”

“He’ll put us all out of a job one day,” Calum agreed with a smile as he glanced up at her. “He was a tattoo artist for Halloween. Had Ash give him tattoos like mine and everything,” Calum confessed with a grin as he thought back to the shock of seeing his son, dressed in a small pair of Docs and covered in Sharpie.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that was incredibly adorable but also got you a lot of funny looks.” When Calum laughed, Stevie smiled. “I’m guessing the curls are what you used to look like?” she asked, glancing at the photo once more before she returned her gaze to Calum’s buzzed and blue hair.

“Mm, yeah. Once upon a time,” Calum nodded. Calum studied her, glancing at the green and brown mess of curls, before he asked, “What about you? I’m guessing the same was true for you before you chopped and dyed yours?”

“Brown, yeah. Curly? No. I wish. My hair was limp as fuck,” Stevie laughed as she tousled the green curls with her left hand. “It was gross and unhealthy so I cut it all off when I moved up here. I dyed it, too. I always wanted green hair and people don’t give a shit about your hair color here.”

“They did back home?” Calum asked, reaching out to wipe at her skin. When Stevie nodded, Calum asked, “Where is home?”

Stevie paused, staring at him as he added another line, before she said, “I’m sure you can tell by the accent, but I’m from the south. New Orleans. Well, not really New Orleans because if I was from there, they wouldn’t have cared about the hair - they see far weirder shit on the regular, believe me, but that’s the closest city you’d know.”

Calum nodded, certain that was true - he barely knew anything about New Orleans, let alone Louisiana as a whole - before he asked, “Why New York?”

“We had this running joke,” Stevie began, shifting in her seat as the discomfort of sitting still for nearly two hours started to set in, “that I was going to move to New York to become some obnoxious fucking fashion blogger or something and that Angela was going to follow me and be my photographer. That’s not exactly what happened but, well, close enough.”

“How close is close?” Calum asked as he pushed away from her and pulled off his gloves. “We can take a break for a second. Get up, move around. I’ll grab you some water.”

It was unlike him to be so invested in a client’s life but he felt at ease chatting with her. Something about her was easy, like talking to an old friend, and he felt himself growing more and more curious about her life. So, he kept the conversation flowing and was happy to hear her answer.

“I write for Rolling Stone,” Stevie told him, her voice following him as he moved toward the back to grab a bottle of water for himself and one for her. “Angela was going to be a photographer. Her editing skills were out of this world and she had an eye for detail like no one else. All of my work, the writing samples I sent in, they were a package deal. They all came with photos from her. We both had jobs lined up but… Anyway, I couldn’t stay at home so I took the job. Packed it all up and here I am.” Calum watched as she wandered around the shop, her right hand flexing as she attempted to wake it from where she’d sat with it so still for nearly two hours. She moved slowly, carefully, and paused at each flash sheet to study it just a little closer. “What about you?” she asked after a moment of silence, turning her head to glance at him over her should. “There’s a twinge of something not New York there.”

“Australia,” Ashton answered for him, a wide grin on his lips as he stood from his drawing table and stretched his arms. “All of us hail from the land down under. We packed it all up and moved here after Cal, Luke, and Mike finished high school. It was supposed to be a temporary thing but here we are, six years later.”

“You’re a lot farther from home than I am,” Stevie noted as she returned her gaze to the flash sheets on the wall. “But I guess some places just become like home, regardless of whether you mean for them to,” she offered with a shrug and Calum couldn’t help but agree.

He hadn’t meant for New York to become his home. He, like Ashton said, hadn’t intended to stay very long at all. The goal was to get enough experience under a talented enough artist to return home and open his own shop somewhere in Sydney. He wanted to be near his parents, near his sister, but something about the city sank its claws into his heart and kept him rooted in the Big Apple. He’d decided to stay before Tāne and now, now he couldn’t imagine disrupting his son’s life. Now, New York felt more like home than his real home did, though he sometimes felt the familiar ache to return to warmer weather and familiar scenes settle in his bones.

As the conversation lulled, Stevie returned to the chair and Calum found himself surprised at how quickly her appointment seemed to pass. Her initial nerves, the crippling fear that had seen her almost have a panic attack on the sidewalk in front of the shop, disappeared after the first few strokes of his machine. Getting started had been the hard part. Every part of her body had been tense and Calum was worried that she would stop breathing and pass out on him. However, once he’d settled into a groove and got her talking, sharing stories of her hometown and telling Ashton what bars to avoid should he ever venture down south for Mardi Gras, the appointment flew by. 

He didn’t get attached to clients often, didn’t truly enjoy their presence beyond them being easy to work with, but he liked Stevie. She was his dream client, easy to work with and good at sitting still. She didn’t seem to mind the pain - or, if she did, she didn’t say anything about it. She sat calmly, never forcing conversation but letting it flow naturally, and Calum found himself at ease as he worked on her. The rough morning he’d had melted as he talked with her (and occasionally Ashton) about music and he was almost surprised when he added the last stroke to her outline. Her upper arm was covered in a beautiful bouquet of roses, only missing the red and green ink, and he had to take a moment to admire the beautiful, finished (for now) product.

“Alright,” Calum began as he pulled away from her and nodded his head toward the full length mirror she’d first taken a glance at her arm in, “take a look and let me know how you feel.”

Stevie walked across the shop, groaning as she got the blood flowing in her legs once more, and stopped in front of the mirror. Calum watched her face, his eyes on trained on hers, and breathed a sigh of relief at the awed look she wore. Her left hand came up to her arm, her fingers not quite touch the fresh ink, as she stared at herself in the mirror. She was quiet, scrutinizing, but Calum could see the approval in her eyes. It looked like she’d wanted it to, exactly as she imagined it would, and that was all he wanted.

Stevie was quiet for a moment, gathering herself, before she turned away from the mirror to look at Calum. “She would’ve loved it,” she breathed, her voice cracking slightly as she smiled at him. “I know it’s not finished yet but it’s already so perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Calum nodded, a small smile on his lips as he gestured for her to return to the chair, “I’m glad it’s doing her justice. Let me wrap it up and we’ll get you out of here.”

Wrapping her tattoo took only moments and, after she paid, Stevie was out the door with a final heartfelt thank you and an agreement to return the same time two weeks later. Calum watched her leave, his eyes glued to the door, and remained in his spot behind the desk until Ashton said, “She was cute.”

Calum blinked, surprised at the sound of Ashton’s voice, and rolled his eyes as he let the comment settle in his mind. “She’ll be back in two weeks,” he informed him with a sigh, “you can ask her out then.” Normally, that wouldn’t have irked him so much, imagining Ashton taking one of his clients out for drinks. However, something about him asking Stevie unsettled him and he didn’t like the annoyance he felt in the pit of his stomach as he imagined Ashton flirting with her.

However, the annoyed was short lived as Ashton tossed another ball of paper at his head. “Not for me, dickhead,” he huffed as he stood from his chair and turned off the lamp at his station. “For you. You two would look good together.”

At that, Calum turned and stared at his friend. It wasn’t in his nature to attempt to set him up, to even encourage him to date, and he wondered what the change of heart was about. However, he didn’t bother to ask as he stated plainly, “No,” and moved to clean his station so he could get home to Tāne.

“Look,” Ashton began as he crossed the shop to help him clean, “I know that you don’t want to make things difficult for Tāne and you’re still on edge after El but it’s been three years. One date won’t be the end of the world, mate.” He paused, weighing his words carefully, before he added, “You talked more with her today than you ever have with a client. You guys clicked.”

Calum was quiet as he considered Ashton’s words. He had spoken more with Stevie than he ever had any client. He’d felt comfortable with her, the conversation flew naturally and five hours passed in the blink of an eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to consider that as an option. He knew that time had passed for him to move on, he had moved on, but he didn’t want open himself up to another heartbreak. Not when the first one was still weighing so heavily on his life. So, instead of telling Ashton that he was afraid of loving and losing once more, he deflected the conversation.

“El’s lawyer called this morning,” he sighed as he returned the box of gloves to his station. “I’ve got other shit to deal with that doesn’t involve finding a girlfriend. And Stevie - she’s nice but she’s got other shit on her mind, too. Just leave it, mate.”

“Wait, El’s lawyer? She’s not still trying to get custody, is she?” Ashton asked as he stopped cleaning and turned his full attention to Calum.

“Mm,” he confirmed with a sigh as he dropped the bottle of antiseptic cleaner and took a seat on his stool. “Still thinks I’m an unfit parent. She thinks that she and fuckface will do a better job. They want to move to Boston and she wants to take him with them.”

“Fuck, Cal,” Ashton breathes as he reaches out to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. She doesn’t deserve custody and I’ll help you however I can. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded as he reached for the discarded tissues he’d used to wipe at the ink on Stevie’s tattoo. “I know.”

Calum knew that his friends would help however they could. He knew that, like Ashton, Michael and Luke would do whatever he needed of them to help him keep his son and the job he loved so much. He also knew that, when the dust settled around the latest in his ex’s attempts to unsettle his life, Ashton would return his attention to the topic of Calum’s lack of a partner and, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t exactly mind it. He was steadfast in his decision to focus on one problem at a time - his most pressing being his impending battle for custody - but maybe, just maybe, there would soon be room in his life for someone else. And maybe, just maybe, that would be the girl with the rose tattoo.

______________________________________________

Author’s Note: So. Thoughts? Feelings? I’m really excited for this. I’ve had this fic in mind for ages. The first chapter wasn’t as fluffy as I was imagining it would be nor is it as filled with Calum being a dad but there are some soft moments and I’m really looking forward to continuing it. I have it all planned out and I’m already halfway through chapter two I’m pretty stoked. Also, I’m trying to do it from both perspectives (Stevie’s and Calum’s because a) there are things about Stevie I don’t want you to know yet and b) it’s about single dad!Cal so. Anyway!).  Let me know your thoughts! 

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[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 3: Rookie Hazing?

(Lyn)

My breathing fell into my familiar breathing pattern as I jogged through the town. The early morning sun was peeking through the clouds, trying to be seen. My music was blasting through my earbuds as I turned to go through the walking trail this morning.

Today was the first day of actual classes and practices. Me and a few of the others already have been to the pool a bunch this week, but this is when shit got real. After the disappointing loss to Turner University at last year’s AUS, Coach Jacob and team really wanted to get the title this year. It was one thing to lose, it was another thing all together to lose by 1 fucking point. Ugh, even just thinking about it pissed me off. Turner is a good school, don’t get me wrong. But man, we worked our assess off last year.

I passed by an older couple going out for their usual morning walk. I waved to them as I always do, earning a smile in return. I liked the coziness of this small town. Being able to see the same people every morning doing their routine as I did was relaxing and brought a sense of calm to my otherwise chaotic life.

I sprinted the final couple of kilometers home, slowing down as I approached the track around the football field. Loryn, Maddie, and Andrew where already there, chatting as they stretched for their early morning workout.

Loryn smiled when she saw me coming and tossed me my water bottle. I pulled out my music and took a huge swig from it. “Thanks, I really needed that,” I said. I lifted the end of my shirt and wiped the sweat and water off my face.

“No problem-o,” she responded. “How was your run?”

“Same as usual,” I said as I take another drink.

Andrew walked over and gave me a huge hug. “Ready for the season, Lyn?”

I nodded into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt. Andrew was the captain of the Men’s team, and he was like an older brother to me. This was his last year on the team, and I really wanted to win the championship for him and the other 4th years. They put so much into this program, and just one win would be an awesome reward for them.

“Please don’t cry, or I might start too,” he mumbled.

“Not crying,” I pulled away, grinning at him. “I’m just thinking of how lame the team’s gonna be once you finally retire from it. Are they gonna make Will the captain next year, because like, yeesh.”

This earned a laugh from Andrew. “Well, I frigging hope not. Y’all better vote for Oliver, or Thom. If Will gets the captain position next year, you’re all doomed.”

“Fuck me with a rusty screw if Will gets it,” said Maddie bitterly. “The only thing bigger than his ego is his Hummer. I swear, I will never get over his parents airlifting that thing across the fucking country.”

It’s not like we hated Will or anything, he just was a huge pain in the ass. Both his parents are doctors, and he makes a point of letting you know how much money he has. During his first year here, apparently, his parents had his Hummer helicoptered across the country so he could have it here. Not sure why he didn’t drive the damned thing instead, but the rich do very extreme and extravagant things to prove their wealth. Maddie is a 3rd year like Will, so she’s been putting up with his Will-ness longer than Loryn or I.

We did our usual morning workout routine, just to get used to the rhythm again. Medicine ball tosses to each other with an added squat. After that, 2 sets of 20 jackknifes, 2 sets of 25 crunches, and 2 sets of 1 minute plank. We did our wheelbarrow run across the football field, giggling like fools as we did. Andrew and Maddie beat me and Loryn by a fingertip. Loryn jokingly apologized for being too short, a running joke on the team.

After that, we headed to food hall. Loryn liked to make fun of me for calling it that, since it was technically called meal hall, but that’s where I get all my food, not just meals. Hence, food hall. Still, she immediately started teasing me as we got near it.

The hall was abuzz with all the new frosh and returning students talking about their classes. It was nice to see this place so lively after being essentially dead for the week. I could already hear people talking about going to First Class Bash, the big first party of the year. I never really went to those often, parties that is, since the team had a drinking ban in place as soon as the season started. Maybe if some of the guys on the team wanted to go I would, but I was just as happy to stay in with the goofballs and have our own get together.

Oh shit, speaking of. The rookie party was this weekend, actually. It almost slipped my mind. Today was their official first day. It may sound weird, but Coach Jacob liked having them come for their own practice to get used to each other and the facilities first. That way, if they don’t feel like sticking around, there’s none of that awkward shame of seeing your ex-teammates on campus. Not that anyone actually gave a shit.

I sat down next to Matt and Kerry, two members of the team. They were nearly identical twins, but with different body builds since they swam different strokes. Matt was bulkier in his shoulders and trunk cuz he swam butterfly like I did, while Kerry was leaner but a bit bowlegged from swimming breaststroke for so many years. Kerry was letting her hair grow out after shaving it last year, and it was tied up in this stupidly adorable tiny ponytail, while Matt had shaved his hair into practical buzzcut. Kerry leaned over once I was settled and pointed.

“Did you see?”

“Did I see what?” I asked as I shoved the whole fried egg into my mouth.

“Derek is sitting with Poppy.”

I rolled my eyes. Derek Freeman was one of my exes from last year. Lyn from first year got a little crazy when it came to dating, and I ended up going through 6 different people before finally calling it quits. Derek was one of them, but he was by far the worse. He got super possessive and couldn’t understand why I dumped his creepy ass. He always knew my schedule and followed me everywhere. He would wait for me outside the pool and walk back to my res with me, which would have been super sweet if he didn’t ask to come inside every single time. Even after we broke up, he still followed me places. Eventually he got the message once I started dating Willa Hoffman, but man was he annoying.

Then there was Poppy. There was nothing wrong with her, per se. We just were partners on a project last year and she nearly cost me getting an A+ in Intro to Sociology, much to my annoyance. I cared a lot, maybe a little bit too much, about my grades. So, yeah, there’s nothing that really pisses me off more when you get stuck with a shit partner for a project.

“Honestly, Ker, I don’t care,” I said. “Hell, they deserve each other IMO.”

Kerry shrugged as she got back into her seat properly, finally letting Matt get back to eating. We ate in comfortable silence before Matt spoke up.

“Gunner is on probation.”

I dropped my fork in confusion. Even Kerry looked confused. “What do you mean, Matt?” I asked, leaning against the table as I did, locking eyes with him.

He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Okay, don’t tell anyone because I’m not supposed to know, but Gunner was caught doing drugs this summer. Like, coke. Anyway, Jacob heard about it and helped him through rehab and stuff, but the dean put him on probation until his grades and attitude prove that he actually got clean.”

“Shiiiiiiit,” I pushed my tray away. Leo Gunner was the best sprinter on the team, leading the Men’s team to having great scores in the relay last year. If he wasn’t allowed to swim this season, we might be in serious trouble. There was no one as fast as him. The next best would be Parker, and even then, he wasn’t near Gunner’s level.

“Oh, that’s awful,” said Kerry, putting her hand over her mouth.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, it’s shit for sure. I talked to him this morning and apparently, he’s allowed to practice, but he might not be allowed to sign up for the meets. I think Jacob might bring it up to Andrew and Emma today, but he might not let the rest of the team know just yet.”

The information sat heavy in my stomach. I walked all the way to my class with my mind racing, wondering if there was any way we could fight this decision. All conclusions came to a resounding no. The university was pretty strict about athletes using illegal substances. They only thing that probably saved his ass was that it happened this summer.

I took my usual spot near the front, waiting for the rest of the students to fill in. This was a second-year history course, and I really wanted to be psyched for it, considering history was my favourite subject, but it was hard when I was worrying about things out of my control.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked over and nearly groaned when I saw it was Will. I nodded, but he was already taking the seat anyway. I hated sitting next to Will, he just sat on Instagram the whole time, or TikTok. Fuck my life right now.

He reached over and tugged on my ear. “Why the long face, Lyn?”

I batted his hand away. He knew I was self-conscious of how big my ears were, and he liked to pick at that at any opportunity. “No long face here, Will.” I forced a grin onto my face before turning my attention back to my desk.

“Whatever you say.”

Ugh, def getting a new seat on Thursday. I can’t deal sitting next to him and dealing with his antics at practice too. There was only so much abuse one gal could take for the day.

XXX

Thank God it was Friday!

I managed my schedule perfectly, so I had no classes on Friday. It made the other days more miserable for sure, but having a three-day weekend every week? Exactly what I needed to stay on top of things this year. Just practice in the afternoon, and I was free to enjoy myself. The rookie party was tomorrow, and they were a good batch. Loryn’s younger sister Robin joined the team this year, which was super exciting for her.

I got to enjoy breakfast without having to rush it, plus no homework was assigned this week. Today was a nice one, and I was looking forward to just being able to chill and enjoy it. As I left, I happened to notice that Ally was leaving the food hall. Grinning, I raced over to where she was.

“Hey, Ally!” I fell into step beside her.

“Lyn!” Ally looked up at me, a smile breaking out. She had her hair in this half up pinned style, it looked really good on her. Also, she was wearing different glasses today. She usually wore some rectangle ones, but these ones were like a half moon shape.

“How’s your first week, frosh?” I asked.

“Well, after the disaster that was the bookstore incident…” she looked down, thinking about something before shaking her head. “It’s been lovely. I think once I get into a nice routine, I won’t feel as anxious.”

I was curious about the whole bookstore thing, but I respected that she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it openly with me. Fair enough, we only just met last week, and I barely have seen her since.

“Hey, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far! Is it cool if I walk with you until your next class? I’m free.”

“Oh,” she smiled shyly at me, “that would be really nice, actually.”

I smiled back. We chatted about her classes all the way to Bennet, where her class was. I leaned against the wall as she finished explaining something about her drama class. That was a class I took in first year, but it sounds like she has Professor Kinkly, whereas I had Professor Statton. Kinkly was more by the book, Statton was know as the campus kook. I had a feeling Ally was gonna like Kinkly more.

“I guess I should head in, huh?”

“I guess you should. But hey,” I said, “we should totally hang this weekend, you know? Whatcha doing tomorrow?”

Ally looked contemplative before shaking her head. “Nothing, I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s grab a bite to eat, and you can finish telling me all about your week.”

“O-okay, sounds great!”

Ally wished me a goodbye and dashed inside, as to not be late for class. I watched her go before snorting under my breath. I liked her, she was smart and funny. It would be nice to have someone as a friend outside the team. Guess it was just my lucky day when she approached that table I forced Loryn to help me set up.  

Feeling great, I practically skipped all the way back to my res.

XXX

The smell of chlorine was something that was never going to get old. It calmed me when nothing else could. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but the pool is my second home. Didn’t matter how I felt at home or school or whatever, I could come to a pool and swim those thoughts and troubles away.

We finished with our pre-practice routines, and I jumped into the pool, shivering a little as the cold water enveloped my body. Right away everything felt amazing. Reach, pull, reach, pull. The easy lazy rhythm of the warmup let my thoughts drift away. It was nearing the end of the warmup when I caught Andrew’s eye underwater during my turn, and we ended up racing our last 25 meters. He beat me and we high fived as I hung onto the lane rope.

Coach Jacob laughed as the others finished their warmups. He was a retired swimmer himself and did things to keep himself in shape. He had one of those kind faces that really made you feel welcomed. Sure, he could be a hard ass, but he just really wanted win, like we all did.

He read practice off the board for us, and we did as was instructed. In in a blink of an eye, practice was over, and we were all hauling our asses out of the pool. Practice wasn’t too hard today, but since it’s been a while since any of us had structure like that, we all felt the ache of the week catching up with us finally.

“Okay, gather ‘round!” Coach Jacob called out. We all headed towards the bench and took seats. Loryn sat next to me and we cuddled, trying to not freeze as we listened to what he had to say.

“So, this is the last year for some of us,” he indicated the 4th years with a nod, “and a new beginning for others,” a nod to the 1st years. “However, the goal is the same. We wanna be number one at AUS’s this year. We wanna send people to CIS’s this year. We wanna kick Turner’s stupid butt all over the pool deck. We start morning practice next week, 5:30 sharp, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Gym time is 6:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. We have our usual afternoon practice at 4:30 every day. If you can’t make practice, the reason better be fucking good. Rookies, never be afraid to ask questions. These guys are your family while you’re here, and like family, sometimes we don’t always get along. But try your best to stay pleasant with the others. Lastly, welcome to the Mount Seamus Wolves!” he finished with a huge grin. We clapped and headed into the locker rooms, where a hot shower was calling my name.

“Man, I am looking forward to the weekend!” Loryn said with a huge stretch as we grabbed our shampoo and conditioner.

“Me too,” I said with a grin. “I already made plans.”

“Oh my God, shut up! Who with?”

“That cute frosh from last week.”

Loryn scrunched up her face in thought. “Gabriel or the brunette you showed around?”

I laughed, hitting her playfully with my towel. “Dude, you’re the only one who thinks Gabe is cute, you know?”

“Not true! I know Jackie does too!”

“Damn right I do!” Jackie said, walking by us with a laugh.

We all laughed as we turned the water on. It felt great to take a hot shower after practice. We were gossiping about people on campus when I noticed something strange.

“Emma, are you okay?”

Emma, the captain for the Women’s team, looked over. “Huh, why you ask?”

I blinked. “Because you’re covered in…blood?”

She looked up and shrieked. Sure enough, something red and gooey was coming from the shower head. Actually, it was coming from all the showers! We all screamed and ran out, not even bothering to turn them off.

“What the actual fuck?” Emma was shaking with either anger or fear, wasn’t sure which it was. “Did someone think it would be funny to prank the rookies or something?” She whipped around to glare at all of us.

When no one fessed up, she growled in annoyance. “Okay, maybe one of the guys thought it would funny? Whoever did this, it’s seriously fucked up. Getting sprayed with fake blood is not how I wanted to end my Friday night!”

“Uh, not to be that person, Emma,” I said hesitantly, “but if it was fake blood…wouldn’t it have stopped by now?” I pointed over to the running showers, where a steady stream of red was still coming out.

Emma’s face paled. She looked at her hands, where the blood was and sniffed it. “Oh my God…it smells like copper.”

That’s when Jackie threw up all over the floor and Kerry burst into tears.

XXX

I was in my room, curled up under all the blankets I could possibly be curled under. We texted the boys after, to see if something similar happened to them. When Andrew and Matt both responded no, we got even more freaked out. We ended up calling campus security for them to see if there was something they could do about it. They said they would look into and escorted us back to our residences. I took such a scalding hot shower that I was still pink from it, but I still didn’t feel clean.

The group chat was blowing up with questions. The poor rookies were understandably upset. They thought someone was trying to haze them, but that wasn’t the case at all. Hazing wasn’t something we did anymore. They didn’t do it in my first year, and Emma said that her class was the last one that got hazed.

I didn’t have the energy to be dealing with this, so I muted the chat for the time being. Nura was sitting on her bed, her eyes on her computer screen but I could see her looking at me from time to time. I mean, I would be too. If Nura came back and told me that she just ended up taking a blood shower, I would be fucking concerned too.

I rolled over and tugged at my ear. It was habit of mine when I was anxious about something, and I was definitely anxious about this. If it turned out to be a stupid prank from one of the other teams, that would be one thing. But if it wasn’t…then what did it mean?

I had this crazy thought, pulling my phone up to my face. I wanted to see if it happened any time else. I did a quick Google search, and found out that this wasn’t the first time that something like this happened at this school. It was in 1968, and in 1995, and again in 2007. Okay, that was interesting.

Okay, so unless someone was dumping bodies into a water reservoir that only affected the women’s locker room, something freaky was going on. I’m not that big into that spiritual mumbo jumbo, but I’m not going to deny that this was more than a coincidence. However, it was history, something I specialized in. If I could trace back and see if there were any more connections, maybe I can establish a pattern.

That was a problem for Lyn of tomorrow, however. I was thoroughly exhausted after tonight’s events. I bookmarked the page on my phone, just so I wouldn’t forget. I was going to need my laptop for this.

I just hoped I could find something that can explain what the hell happened.

[evanstanwrites]

The CEO -1-

The beginning and the end?

summary:  y/n Photographer meets James Bucky Barnes CEO of White Wolf Industry, they fall head over heels for each other. But Bucky has many secrets, will she find out who or what he really is? And more so will she accept it or will she run as far as she can when she finds out?

A/N: based on elements of an rp with the lovely @loricameback​

A/N: proofreaded by my favo kiwi: @pawfect-melody​ 

moodboard below by @imanuglywombat​

warnings: mostly fluff and a small bit of angst at the end

The CEO masterlist

y/n couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the email. She had walked into her small studio office early this morning with her favorite Starbucks drink and a breakfast snack in her hands. She was first to arrive, even if the only other person working with her was Mia. y/n had opened her own photo studio only last year after being stuck at an office job for her entire working life. She hated the job but it paid well so she was able to save a good amount of money, only needing to take out a small loan with the banks so she could finally achieve her big dream: owning her own studio and being a freelance photographer. Mia helped her mostly with the business side of things and managing appointments, she was a godsend most of the time and one of her best friends. 

After setting her stuff down on her desk she was actually surprised Mia wasn’t there yet, Mia was usually the first to arrive and layers deep in work by the time she arrived.

Just when y/n sat down and started up her laptop Mia burst into the room with one of the biggest smiles on her face.   

“good you’re already here,” she says as she drops her stuff on her own desk. "Have you read the emails already?" 

"No, I just arrived myself but I was planning on checking them right now." She said as she opened the email app and scrolled through the new mails. "I already checked them last night from home. There is one, in particular, that is very interesting and I think is one of the best opportunities we have ever gotten. Scratch that it is the best." Mia rambles on like a kid with ADHD. Y/n pulled up the email she was talking about and began to read. 

Dear miss y/l/n,

I write to you on behalf of the White Wolf industry, seeing as our company has started a new campaign we see it necessary to complete this with media attention as well. Our CEO Mr. James Barnes has recently had an interview with the New York Times magazine and in addition to the interview will require professional photographers. Mr. Barnes personally requested your employment in this task if you so wish to accept. 

Contact our office on (000-000-000) to arrange a time and a place which best suits yours and Mr.Barnes needs. 

We look forward to your swift reply.

Sincerely,

White Wolf Industry 

Y/n couldn't believe her eyes as she reread the email over and over again. 

"Is this for real or am I dreaming Mia?" Y/n asked amazed

"It's real." Mia squealed enthusiastically "this is gonna be your big breakthrough y/n, THE James Barnes, CEO of the biggest company in New York and you're going to take his picture. Not to mention that he’s smoking hot"

Bucky had been working for many hours when Steve knocked on his open office door, entered and shut it behind him. 

“Buck, tell me you're only just in and haven’t been here all morning” Steve said as he sat down in front of Bucky’s desk knowing well enough that wasn’t the case. 

“ Seems like you already know the answer to that question, Stevie” Bucky said without looking up from his laptop.

“Man, you’re gonna kill yourself overworking. Did you forget this is only a front and you actually don’t have to do all that work by yourself, you’ve people working for you, you know.” 

Bucky only rolled his eyes not really responding to that, what kind of mob boss would he be if he didn’t play the part of the front that protected his true job and the people who were working for him. 

“So you take on the collecting rounds today, take Sam with you, I don’t want him around when miss Y/l/n arrives.” he said and Steve chuckles “Yeah I’ll take him wouldn’t want you to miss your shot.” 

Of course Bucky had looked the woman up when he came across her work, her work was amazing and he felt like he had to get to know her, meet her in person, so he looked up everything he could find out about her. So when the opportunity occurred and he needed his pictures taken for an interview he had done he immediately demanded her.

“Okay get going now, I pay you to work not to sit around and make fun of me.” Bucky barks only half-joking. 

Y/n didn’t know why she was nervous, maybe because this could be her biggest breakthrough or the fact that after she had called to make the appointment, now a week ago, she had looked up more information about Mr. Barnes. She hadn’t found out much other than the standard information about the company he was CEO of and a picture of a man with a buzzcut, sharp cheekbones and the deepest blue eyes you could drown in. 

Y/n took a few deep breaths after she had parked her car in the underground parking lot, Mia had called in sick that morning so she would have to face this job alone today. But just as she got out of her car a beautiful young woman walked towards her and greeted her with a smile. Apparently she was Mr. Barnes’s assistant, Sophie and she was tasked with greeting and helping her with anything she might need. 

so that’s how an hour later she found herself in an empty conference room, tables pushed to the side and equipment set up with the help of Sophie. 

“Thank you so much for all the help setting up.” y/n says to her as she leads her through the hallway till she stops in front of two beautiful wooden carved doors, clearly this was Mr. Barnes’s office and she would finally meet him. Sophie knocked on the door, entered and announced y/n’s arrival.

“Well don’t let her stand there let her in” she heard his warm voice call out before Sophie stepped out of the way and motioned for her to walk in. When she did she had to make sure that her mouth didn’t fall open, god he’s even more gorgeous in person and Mia was totally right he looks like sex on legs in his black fitted suit with no tie, leaving a bit of his chest and the small golden chain visible.  

“Miss Y/l/n, please come in” he says with a smile as he stands up to greet her and waved his hand to one of the chairs in front of his desk. As soon as she stepped deeper into his office the doors behind her closed and she was left alone with the hunk of a man. “It’s nice to meet you miss y/l/n, I’ve been looking forward to working with you” he says holding his hand out for her to shake. y/n walks deeper into the office and takes his offered hand, ‘wow his hands are so soft and warm, god I bet they’d feel amazing in other areas’ she thought to herself but had enough self-control to say “the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Barnes, I can’t say thank you enough for this opportunity.” 

“Please call me Bucky” he says while giving her one of his brightest smiles, making her want to melt in a puddle at his feet.

“Well only if you call me y/n.”

“You got yourself a deal” he says as they both sit down on the chairs in front of his desk. The conversation flowed easily between them, at first, it mainly stayed with professional talk but as time went on it started to feel more like two friends talking and the conversation also turned in that direction. It seemed like they had only been talking a few minutes when Sophie had knocked on the door to remind Bucky of his lunch reservation in the bistro downstairs. He had thanked her and invited y/n to join him during lunch under the claim of a work lunch but they both know work wouldn’t be the subject of conversation. As predicted their work lunch turned out actually more like a lunch date seeing as they both didn’t hold back the flirting that went on between them. 

Once lunch was over they both fell back into their professional self and they started the actual photoshoot, she had to admit he was a very easy model and one hell of a photo genetic man, like could this man ever be in a bad photo?  Once she had enough pictures she started to clean up her stuff together with Bucky’s help, which he offered himself not taking a no for an answer, but sadly it didn’t last long because once again Sophie came in to remind him of an appointment, this time for what seemed an important meeting. 

Bucky said goodbye to her with a sweet kiss to her cheek and a promise to get in touch with her later on.  

Later on turned out to be just half an hour later, just as y/n had arrived back at her office when a text message arrived on her phone.

“Thank you for today sweetheart, I had a real good time getting to know you and I know for sure those pictures will turn out to be amazing ;-). x Bucky”

‘How the hell did he get my phone number? I don’t remember giving it to him’ she thought but blushing as she read the pet name before shrugging to herself and typing her response.

“Well with a model like you I’m totally sure of that, there is not one bad picture I took of you. I had a blast working with you :-)” 

“I’m glad you think so sweetheart. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

of course she accepted and it turned out to be a regular occurrence and they went out for lunch or dinner almost every two days. When they weren’t together they were texting or calling each other, after two weeks she felt like she had known him all her life, she had never felt a connection like that with someone before and before she actually really realized it she was falling for him, hard. In week three their flirting was almost nonstop so she thought to herself that he had to feel the same way if he kept asking her out and flirted with her like that. She decided that she had to say something, she had to tell him how she felt, she wanted to know where they stood and if this was going somewhere. 

So that evening when he picked her up for dinner she asked for him to come in for a minute.

“Everything alright sweetheart, is there something wrong?” he asked as he sat down in front of her on her couch.

“No there is nothing wrong, I just wanted to talk to you about something important” she said clearly nervous making him worry a bit. He shuffled forward so he could take her hands in his running his thumbs over her skin trying to give her the comfort she apparently needed to say what she clearly wanted to tell him. “You know you can tell me anything sweetheart” to which she nodded before taking a deep breath. “I’m falling for you, hard. And I wanted you to know because I feel like maybe there is a chance you might feel the same and I wanted to know where we stood. Like is there even an us?” she rambled luckily he stopped her with just a look, a big smirk on his face. “Sweetheart, of course there is an us. I’m head over heels for you.” 

And before she knew it he had her on his lap, lips and tongues entangled with each other in a passionate embrace, their dinner date clearly forgotten as they had only want for each other.

Being in a relationship with Bucky Barnes felt like the best thing that had happened to her, he always made sure she felt loved and cared for, he gave her his full attention whenever they were together, even sent her flowers every few days. He made her happy and she could only hope that she made him as happy too. But after a while, things started to feel off. There were times that he’d be very secretive about either his job or things he did in his free time whenever they weren’t together, like where he’d go every Wednesday and be totally unreachable. She felt like there were things he kept from her, things he never wanted her to find out. Thoughts started to run through her mind from the stupidest things to the thought that maybe she wasn’t his only girlfriend that maybe he was cheating on her?

A part of her questions got answered on a Wednesday afternoon when she was taking pictures for a job in a park not far away from Bucky’s office. She was taking pictures of all the different kinds of flowers and plants when suddenly a man walked through her line of view, Bucky. But he wasn’t alone, what seemed to be a four year old was sitting on his arm with her arms holding him tightly around his neck and a stuffed monkey in her hand as she giggled at something he said to the little girl that oddly looked a lot like him. From their interaction, you could easily see he loved the little girl dearly, it was obvious to her that this must be his daughter. But why didn’t he tell her that he had a little girl? Then she started thinking about all the other things he held back from her and started to tear up at her conclusion, how could he do this to her, to anyone actually. She had to end this, she had to end her relationship with Bucky Barnes, clearly a married man with a daughter.

tags:

@marvelgirl7​ @imanuglywombat​ @loricameback​ @aesthetical-bucky​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @huskygreatdane  @cap-just-said-language​ @sebastianstans-girl​ @seasaurusrrex​ @lolabean1998​

[crimsonskies1124]

My Lovely Human Chapter 2: Beloved

A sigh of contentment was breathed out of the Naga's mouth as he held his beloved in his arms. Risotto moves rather quickly to his large spacious den in excitement, the thought of spending his life with his beloved filled him with desire. The inside of his den is much bigger than an average Naga's den. It was nice and wide and had a big bed made of fur that he collected himself when he goes out to hunt. There was bones and skulls laying around inside the den as well but most of them were near the front entrance of his den for mainly decoration. He appreciate the aesthetic of skulls, enjoying the feel of the dark sockets and bony structure.

Risotto gently places (Y/N) on the king's size bed and drinks up in her beauty. No one was as beautiful as she was. So small, so docile, so kind. He loved her hair, big eyes, round face, and plump lips. How he loved to have her lips around him. His blood red eyes trail down her body, she didn't have the biggest breast but not the smallest either. He wasn't too fussy about that. Risotto places his large hand on her flat stomach and thought how beautiful she be with her stomach all round and swollen with his babies. He gripped her wide hips that are perfect for bearing his children. Risotto growled, his tail swishes excitedly and grips harder until she lets out a small whimper and stops.

"Grr...not yet.." He loosens his hold of her and composes himself. Risotto slithers out of his den and picks up the skull holding it in his hands. The skull was so small in his grip, he moves his long fingers against the rough cheek bones and wondered how soft her face would feel if he caress them. As he was deep in thought from this a voice called out to him, a voice he knew to well.

"Risotto! Where the fuck have you been!?" An angry blonde rushes to him, his hair was tied neatly in braids, icy blue eyes and wore a couple accessories around his neck that were out of gold , especially his long necklace. His scales were dark purple with white streaks that gave a web like design.

"Prosciutto. Lower your voice. You'll wake her up." He grunted and glanced at her. "I told you I was taking care of some troublesome hunters." He placed his skull back down.

"Wha!? Her?" He squinted his eyes and looks over his shoulder to see a young small human sleeping on his bed, a bed that was far too big for her. "Is..Don't tell me that's a human in your den."

Risotto nodded at his question. "Are you fucking kidding me! You know as well as I do how dangerous humans are! Why do you have it here?"

He crossed his arms displeased. "Don't call my beloved an it. She's...different from other humans. She's not like the others."

Prosciutto looks at him with disbelief. Don't tell me that thing is suppose to be his mate? He sighed placing two of his fingers on the bridge of his nose sighing. He opens his mouth about to speak once more until he saw the younger Naga Illuso who is a teenager.

"Capo! You're finally back!" He grins holding a spear in his hand and a bag of fish. "You were gone for a really long time." His hair brown long hair were tied in low braids and had eyes as red as Risotto but it looked like there was more life in his eyes than Risotto. His scales were more bland than the other nagas. His didn't glow as brightly as the others and was a simple beige color.

He nodded. "I just got back today. I was about to head into the village . Come Proscuitto we have matters to discuss with others."

The blonde looks back at the den. He grumbled a bit. It will have to a matter he will have to discuss later with keeping a human in his den. He watches Illuso go back home probably to Formaggio about the amount of fish he got.

Both He and Risotto made their way down to the village where the rest of their kind lived. They were a isolated species that has closed themselves off to the rest of the world due to the confliction with humans eons ago. They did not have a very big population either, in fact their species had one of the lowest numbers in population of this forest.

As they both make their way to the headquarters a lot of Nagas bowed and greeted Risotto with respect and a lot of Nagi saw Risotto and followed him and three of them linked arms with him. "Nero! You finally came back." One spoke out and giggled. the second spoke out next. "Nero do you have time for us please? You been gone for so long." The third agreed and rubs her head against his chest.

Risotto pulls away without looking at them. "I don't have time for this. I have important matters to attend to." He could hear them whining and hearing how much they missed him. He knew how desperate those nagi were.

"Popular as ever capo." A naga with with long blonde choppy hair that covered one eye grins at him. " Shame those cute nagi are perfect candidates for an heir." He licked his lips from the thought . His scales were black with purple circle patterns on it.

Risotto sighed . "Maybe you should spend time with them instead Melone."

Melone lets out a small laugh. "Oh they simply won't do my dear capo! I want the mother of my children to be perfect." Not any nagi would do for him, he had high expectations. He follows both Proscuitto and Risotto in and yelling could be heard. " Ahh..looks like he got Ghiaccio all fired up again." Letting out a small hissing sound at the end of his sentence.

The room was in a disarray , there was milk on the walls and eggs were cracked open on the floor and two nagas fighting. "That's enough. You two clean this mess right now." Risotto speaks in a commanding voice.

"But it's Formaggio ! He started it first!" A loud booming voice was spoken by a male with curly blue hair and red glasses.

"I don't care. Both of you clean this up now." He glares at the both .

"R-Right! c'mon let's just clean it before he gets more mad." The male with a buzzcut hairstyle went to grab the the cleaning supplies and Ghiaccio clicked his tongue against his fangs and went to help clean up the place.

Once the two nagas cleaned up the place to how it was suppose to look before. They could start discussing the meeting . "You sure took your time coming back. Gone for 5 days. You're never gone for that long Capo." Melone spoke.

"Yeah that's true." Formaggio agreed. "

Prosciutto nodded. "Mind telling us what took you so long when you should have been hours later on the same day not 5 days."

Risotto sighed and nodded.

5 days ago

Risotto took it upon himself to take out the hunters that are in their territory and he could not risk the humans finding out about their species again. Humans were ugly disgusting greedy creatures that killed nagas out of fear and take their skin to make purses and take their fangs for profit that was what he thought before he met her, the love of his life.

Risotto had spotted one human that was rather close to the village. Something he must not allow to happen. The hunter was a young male who was smoking a cig. Risotto cringed in disgust. He would do not be a good meal at all. He moves from behind without making a sound and bites his shoulder and the hunter lets out a scream as the vemon was injected into his body and within moments the hunter was gasping for air and was coughing and hacking as he felt so much pain and his heart was pumping faster and faster as the vemon spread throughout the body until his heart couldn't keep up and stopped and didn't see his body move anymore. Risotto had a expressionless face as he watched the hunter perished before leaving him there.

"Wait! We shouldn't kill it! Aren't you suppose to preserve wild life?" A young woman spoke to a hunter and it was none other than (Y/N) who was trying to stop a hunter from killing a garden snake.

A hunter who looked like he was in his 30's looked at her and chuckled . "what gives little missy . We are preserving life . Our life and that's all that should matter. Now give him back. His skin would do good for a purse. Wouldn't you like that? All girls your age fancy those." Risotto hissed and glared at the hunter in disgust, oh how he wanted to end him right then are there.

(Y/N) shook her head holding he garden snake her hands as it wrapped itself around his arm. "The hunter's association is suppose to preserve all life. Even this little guy." She smiles and pets the little snake head.

The hunter looks at her in disgust. "Ugh! Whatever I'll be off . Stay away from the others they are dangerous!" He grabs his belongings and head off to the west side of the forest.

(Y/N) sighs. "They're all the same. " She gently puts the garden snake down . "There now run along now little guy before they find you again." She smiled as she watch the snake return to the wild. She hated how they abuse the system and killed any animal that had nothing to do with them or that they were a threat when they weren't. "Hm? Is someone there?"

Risotto quickly hid from her sight. He was always a master at stealth it was one of his abilities as a naga.

"Hmm..I guess I imagined it . I better get going." She turned her back towards him and headed back into town.

Risotto watches her leave the forest. So there were kind humans too. Humans were ugly and odd looking but she looked so beautiful , her beauty could even rival a goddesses. It was at that moment he had to have her and had taken care of the hunters while he slowly learned more about her. Watching her. Stalking her for those 5 days until that storm took him by surprise and by then it was too late for him to get back to his own village until she saved him too like that harmless garden snake.

Present Day

" That's the reason I was gone for so long . If it wasn't for her I wouldn't be alive." He clasped his hands together and the rest of the naga looked at him like he was crazy.

"A human!? A human of all things saved you!?" Ghiacco flailed his arms in disbelief . Risotto nodded

Melone had a playful grin on his face while formaggio still had a hard time processing this on how and why would Risotto would want to bring a human . Maybe as a pet or food he thought.

Prosciutto crosses his arms. "I don't agree with you bringing a human here. You're placing us in danger like this. But you are the alpha so I'll back off for now." He turns away not fully accepting it. "The minute the human opposes a threat it will die whether you like it or not Risotto."

Risotto nodded fully understanding this. Though he would make sure no harm comes to her not even his closet allies. "You're all dismissed."

(Y/N) groans a bit in her sleep and slowly opens her eyes as her vision slowly clears up. "Nnn.." She pressed her head against the pillows of the bed. It was the comfiest bed she ever laid on. Her vision finally clears up and looks up at the ceiling which was just the cave. "W-Where..? Where am I?" Her eyes widened after realizing that she was not home. She sat up and moves her head around and could see bones scattered on the floor.

"You're awake."

(Y/N) eyes widened and saw the giant serpent and her memory finally clears up . "Ahh!! Y-You! You're that Naga!" She backs up as much as possible on the bed.

"My name is Risotto, beloved." He moves closer to her which causes her to move back more until her back hits the wall.

"W-Where am I?" She started to shiver, her mind was still a bit fuzzy after being squeezed the life out of her earlier. She only remembers bits and pieces of it and was hoping that this was just a nightmare.

"You're in my den, away from human civilization." his tail wraps around her small wrist pulling her close to him making her gasp and wraps his arms around her placing her in his lap. He loved how small she was compared to him .

(Y/N) struggled in his grasp . His tail and scales felt cold and it scared her how easily he can pull her in . "What? Why! " She shook a bit, scared how far away she was from everyone else.

Risotto placed his hand under his chin and tilted up so she was looking up at him . "You're too good for them. Too pure hearted to live with those greedy humans. I mustn't let that happen. not to my mate." He leans forward and kisses her gently. Her lips were so soft and warm . It caught her by surprise and pulls away and Risotto just moves again to kiss her once more.

"W-Wai- mmph! Risotto St-" He kissed her once more and holds the back of her head and kisses much more deeper. She places her hands on his shoulders to try and push him off but couldn't he was so much stronger than she was. He brushes her tongue with his long forked tongue trying to get it in her mouth but closes her mouth and he growls and pushes her on the bed earning a gasp and kisses her once more before she had the chance to close her mouth and his tongue enters her mouth and explores her warm cavern it felt so good. he wrapped his tongue around hers . (Y/N) tightly closed her eyes squirming under his body as their tongues battle in dominance. He unwrapped his tongue around her and pushed his tongue down her throat which caused her squirm even more . His tail wrapped around her hips keeping her still and heard a small moan and deep throat her tongue and could feel himself being turned on more, more so than he has during mating season. He slowly pulled away watching her gasp for air.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Hanging by a Moment (Jack Traven x Fem!Reader)

Summary: For a long time you had a crush on Jack and before you could do anything about it, he met Annie. Now, two years later, maybe you two have a second chance.

Author’s notes: so this was requested by @takimamplanbingo. I’m so sorry it took so long to post it. Hope you enjoy it. Also, in my head, this is sort of a prequel to Stimulus Equivalence

Wordcount: 3185

Warnings: lots of fluff. A tiny bit of angst.

When the small chime above the coffee shop door rang you didn’t look up. It was weird no longer feeling obliged to do so, but you haven’t worked there in two months, so it was about time you got used to being a customer and not the barista.

Weirdly enough, you kind of missed it. It was a job that you didn’t have to be constantly thinking. After the first six months, your hands seemed to know the process of every coffee order in the menu and, while your mind wandered, your fingers worked the levers of the espresso machine, making the brewing magic happen for your next satisfied customer.

You also missed meeting all kinds of new people every day. People coming in for their breakfast orders or in need of a pick me up after a long night of partying. You missed the regular customers that knew your name and seemed as interested in your own story as they were in to share theirs.

You missed the small talk and the friends you made and that was why you started coming over every day, commandeering a table so you could study for cases or write for your thesis. It was a way for you to hang out with friends at the coffee shop and see old acquaintances. Besides, the café was right across the street from the clinic were doing your internship, the coffee was infinitely better there than at the library and Vinnie always gave you a discount on the pastries.

It was the perfect place for you. You could get lost on your work because everyone knew you would call if you needed anything and the idle chatter around you worked like white noise for you, helping you concentrate and sometimes you got so lost in your own little world that people needed to call your name a couple of times to catch your attention.

He didn’t. He said it once in that familiar baritone and your head snapped up, your heart hitting your throat as you came face to face with Jack Traven.

How long had it been since you last saw him? Maybe a year and a half? Maybe more? You weren’t sure. Even since you stopped taking the morning shift when you still worked at the café because you had classes at that time. The glamorous life of a Ph.D. candidate.

“Hi,” you said dumbly just staring at him.

In the time you hadn’t seen him, Jack had grown out his hair, so instead of his usual buzzcut, he was actually spotting a nice mane of black hair that suited him perfectly. His sense of fashion hadn’t changed at all though. He was still favoring those unbelievably tight jeans and white t-shirts, topped over by button-downs of the ugliest prints.

He still looked like a dream. Those broad shoulders stretching his shirts, along with his strong chest and bulging biceps. His face full of that boyish charm of a guy still settling into his own skin as he approached his thirties.

Jack was one of the handsome men you had ever met as well as one of the nicest and sweetest, which explained why the silence lingered as you stared at him. Even after all this time, Jack was still able to render you speechless by just being in the same room with you.

“It’s been a while,” he finally said, noticing that you were stuck without words. “May I?” he gestured at the seat across from you and you nodded.

Once again, the two of you just stared at each other, wordlessly until Jack let out a small chuckle, spotting that familiar sort of shy grin of his and your heart leaped. Almost two years later and your crush hadn’t abated. Just hibernated in the time you didn’t see him.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, once again breaking the silence. “Vinnie can never get my coffee order right.”

“I heard that!” the older man called from behind the counter, sending Jack a mock dirty look and you chuckled, shaking your head.

“How have you been?” Jack asked, ignoring Vinnie’s teasing.

“Good.” You nodded, glancing at the mess of papers and books surrounding you. “Busy.”

“That’s good,” replied and once again silence stretched between the two of you, heavy and weird as you racked your brain thinking on something to say.

It used to be so easy before. The conversation flowed, so did the banter and the flirting. You always had a teasing remark for Jack, which he replied with a grin and equal amounts of teasing. It was no secret you had a crush on him and everyone in the café seemed to think it was mutual. And it probably was until everything changed.

The door chimed rang again as you got lost in your own thoughts and memories, bringing you back to that day two years ago. You had been anxious from the second you stepped inside the coffee shop because you hadn’t been in all of last week, so you hadn’t seen Jack for that long.

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him exactly, but you kinda wanted to see him with your own eyes, make sure Jack was fine after the close call he had with the bomber in the elevator. You knew he wasn’t harmed. Not like his partner that ended up with a bullet on his leg, but still, you want to see him.

You would look up every time the chime rang, but this time, when it did you met a pair of familiar warm brown eyes and a wide smile that had you smiling too.

“Look who it is! The man of the hour!” Vinnie shouted, making everyone look over and Jack ducked his head with a shy smile. “Jack, my man! You’re a hero, I heard.”

“I’m no hero,” he said with a shrug as Vinnie busied himself setting Jack muffin on the counter before turning to make his latte. “Just doing my job.”

The two of you shared a look as Jack walked up to the register where you were. He took out his wallet and you just waved him off.

“On the house today,” you said with a smile. “For doing your job.”

“Thanks,” he replied, smiling too and for a moment you two just stared at each other, before someone behind Jack cleared their throat and he had to move away, letting you go back to work.

Even though your gaze was on the customer in front of you, your attention was at the easy banter happening between Vinnie, Jack, and Bob, the bus driver that usually came in at the same time as Jack.

You heard Vinnie quipping about some party and Jack’s good-naturedly reply:

“Can’t have been that good. I woke up alone.” You couldn’t help but look over then, catching him looking at you, his gaze full of meaning.

“That’s because you can’t get your head out of your ass and asked the girl out!” Bob joked on his way out, making both you and Jack blush as both realized you’ve been just staring at each other for the last minute or two.

You looked away quickly, trying to go back to work, but you could still feel eyes on you. His eyes.

“He’s right, you know?” Jack’s voice was surprisingly close and you looked over, startled to see him at the register again, watching you with a hesitant smile. “Go out with me? Tonight?”

“Pick me up at seven?” you asked, smiling too and Jack nodded, before grabbing his coffee and muffin and calling out a quick goodbye to Vinnie before stepping out.

That date never happened though and you shook yourself from your reveries, focusing back on the Jack in front of you and not the one from your memories.

“And, how are you?” you finally asked, fidgeting with the pencil in your hand. “Still with SWAT?”

“I’m doing, alright,” Jack nodded, peering at you. “Still with SWAT. It’s what I’m good at.”

And he was. You knew. What he did that day with the bus and the bomber, it wasn’t something most people could do. Or even would do. Leave it to you to fall in love with an actual hero.

“I should get going,” he finally said, getting up. “But it was nice to see you.”

“You too,” you nodded standing up to say your goodbye. The hug you shared was awkward and hesitant, but his scent lingered on you long after Jack was gone.  

You thought it would be a one-time thing, seeing Jack at the café again. You usually came later in the day when your classes were done or after a shift at the clinic and you knew Jack would usually stop by on his way to work.

Only on the following week, there Jack was again, on the same day, around the same time. He only waved at you this time around, picking up his coffee and heading off. Next week the same thing happened. And then the next.

In the fourth week, you changed tables, sitting at the one right by the window and watched as Jack came out of the building across the street, heading straight for the coffee shop. That was when you knew.

When Jack came in, you invited him to join you, offering a seat at your table. Once again, the silence lingered between the two of you, awkward and stilled until your gaze flickered at the clinic and Jack looked over too, letting out a relieved sigh.

“So, you know.”

“Yeah. Nothing wrong with it, you know?” you commented, giving him an encouraging smile and Jack nodded, gaze on his coffee. “What made you decide to start?”

“A case.” His voice was low, stilled. “A bomber. It brought back memories and…” Jack looked up, forcing a smile. “Can we not talk about it? I just spent the last hour doing just that.”

“Of course,” you assured.

You raked your brain trying to come up with something to say. Something to ease the worried lines of Jack’s face and the tension in his shoulders. So, you settled on your default. You babbled about your thesis. It seemed to be the right thing to do because you could see Jack visibly relaxing, his lips drawing into a little smile as he listened to you, one hand on his chin, brown eyes tuned to your every movement.

And so, your new routine started. Every Tuesday afternoon, like clockwork, Jack would come out of therapy and sit with you, talk about everything and nothing. Conversation became easy and natural again, so did the banter and it was as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. Like the last two years didn’t happen.

Except they did and in the back of your head a little voice kept pushing you to ask that question and finally clear your last doubt, but every time you remembered that day, the one after the whole bombing on the bus thing. After you spent an entire day fretting over his wellbeing, wondering if Jack had come out alive from that case.

The day he walked into the coffee shop still covered in bruises and cuts, holding hands with Annie.

The worst thing was that you couldn’t even fault Jack for falling for her. They had shared something that you couldn’t even begin to understand, and she was smart and funny and beautiful. They made a lovely couple.

You could tell the second Jack remembered that he had asked you out the day before. He froze in place, his expression a mask of embarrassment as he met your eyes.

You hated the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him, not even when he pulled you aside, out of sight from the rest of the customers, his face pleading and regretful.

“I’m so sorry. I just…” he looked back at where Annie was sitting, drinking her coffee, laughing at something Vinnie said.

“It’s ok,” you interrupted, your eyes burning as you force yourself not to cry. “I’m glad you’re safe, Jack.”

You kissed his cheek then, before moving back behind the counter and making sure not to look his way until he was gone.

Now the nagging doubt remained with you. Where was Annie? He hadn’t mentioned once in all the times you two had met and talked. You felt weird about asking, but you were dying to know. Because you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Not again. Not after last time.

“She moved back to Arizona,” Jack said suddenly at one of your weekly meets, startling you. “Annie. Got a great job offer and she would be closer to her family…” he drummed on the table, a sad smile gracing his lips. “I guess we always knew it wouldn’t last.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

“Relationships based on intense situations never do,” he replied, smiling again as if remembering an inside joke and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. “Anyway, I thought you should know since you’ve been working up the nerve to ask me for the past couple of months.”

There it was again, the grin, this time with just a hint of smugness, and that familiar twinkle in his brown eyes. It made you chuckle, heat rising to your cheeks as you sneaked a glance at him.

“That obvious?” you asked, and Jack just shrugged.

“Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part,” he said, sipping his coffee. “But anyway, now you know.”

“Now I know,” you nodded, pausing as you contemplated your next words. “There’s no one either,” you declared, meeting his eyes. “In my life, I mean. Romantically speaking.”

“Really?” Jack actually looked surprised. “Guys in your grad-school stupid or blind?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with a chuckle and you missed this. The flirting. “Maybe.”

“Lucky me then,” he said, his smile widening as he got up from his seat signaling it was time for him to go and you couldn’t hide your disappointment. “I’m not blind or stupid.”

You weren’t expecting to see Jack the very next day. Especially not before you even arrived at the café and already taking control of your usual table, a wide, but hesitant smile slipping on his face when you walked in.

���I have the day off,” he announced as soon as you were close enough.

“That’s nice,” you replied, noticing he had a basket with him. “Big plans then?”

“Yes. For both of us.”

“Us?” you repeated dumbly. “I can’t Jack, I have so much to do…” Even though you were verbally protesting, when he took your hand and guided you back out of the café, you didn’t think about struggling or asking him to stop.

“You can take one day,” he declared, pulling the passenger door of his car open for you. “Your thesis will still be there tomorrow.”

He did have a point, of course. Jack had that annoying habit of being frequently right. More frequently than you liked to admit. With a sigh that was more for show than anything, you climbed on his Bronco, throwing your overstuffed backpack on the backseat and turning on the radio as Jack pulled into traffic, taking the familiar route to Griffith Park.

It was a lovely day for a picnic. The weather was nice, the sky bright blue with barely any clouds and as the two of you sat on a spot of green grass overlooking the city skyline and enjoying the pastries Jack got from Vinnie’s coffee shop, you couldn’t help but feel like this was a perfect date.

Except you didn’t want to assume and Jack didn’t say anything either. Not while you were up there, not in the drive to drop you off at home late at night. He actually walked you to your door. Because you needed even more evidence, he was perfect.

“I had a great time,” you declared, hand on your doorknob as you watched Jack. “Thank you. I really needed that day off.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jack smiled at you, his gaze seeking yours for a second before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Is tomorrow night too early for a second date?”

You grinned at him, your heart skipping a beat at that confirmation. It was all you needed.

“No,” you said with a head shake. “Tomorrow sounds perfect for a second date.”

“Pick you up at seven, then.”

“No bombs this time, please,” you joked, hoping you weren’t crossing a line. But Jack just chuckled, walking backward to his car.

“I’ll do my best.” He winked at you before he got into his Bronco and drove off.

You were a pile of nerves on the next night because it had been a while since you’ve been on a date and especially with someone you liked as much as you liked Jack. You fretted over your clothes, your hair, your makeup… You knew you were driving your roommate crazy, but you just couldn’t help yourself. It was Jack.

At ten to seven, you were ready and waiting, watching out of the window as the minutes ticked by without any sign of Jack. Seven came and went and he didn’t show up. Your chest filled with dread and panic. You flipped through the channels, expecting to see him in yet another dangerous, life-threatening situation but if it was happening, the press hadn’t caught wind of it just yet.

You paced your living-room, resisting the urge of calling precincts, find out what happened because half-hour had gone by and Jack still hadn’t shown up or sent any kind of word and it was driving you insane.

You made up crazy scenarios in your head: another bomber; a sniper, a hostage situation gone wrong. In all of them, Jack was hurt or dead and before you knew it, your mascara was ruined because you couldn’t stop the tears.

So lost in your own horrifying thoughts, you didn’t hear the doorbell or your roommate opening the door. You only heard the way Jack called out your name. You turned around to look, part of you wondering if you were dreaming.

He was filthy. His blue dress shirt smeared with grease, as well as his cheek and you could see there was a rip on his trousers. But all in all, Jack was completely fine, not a bruise or a cut.

“I had a flat,” he explained with an apologetic smile.

Before he could say anything else, apologize or explain any further, you were in his arms, hugging him and all but smashing your lips against his. Jack tugged you close to his body, holding you tight, his lips fitting perfectly against yours for a kiss that tasted like relief and longing.

You didn’t care if he was getting grease all over your dress. You didn’t care that you had lost the dinner reservations in the restaurant you’ve been dying to meet. You just cared that Jack was there. Safe and sound and with you. That was all the mattered.

xxx

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