#my heart is pained in every way when i look at every table for every league i'm peeping on....

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost��� Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

You land hard, elbows hitting the ground with a jolt of pain, but it’s nothing compared to the realization that someone is screaming—Blue is screaming. The heat in your veins fizzles, your heart jolting. Ghost has already sped off toward camp, pulling a knife from his ankle, and you scramble to your feet to follow.

Your movements are clumsy, your mind replaying the last few seconds, searching for any signs of trouble you might have missed. The air is clear, the trees are quiet, the ground is still. Yet, as you weave through the tall grasses that swipe at your ankles, you finally hear it—muffled voices, unmistakably human. They grow sharper with each step you take. 

Ghost reaches camp first, stopping in a lethal stance. You roll in just behind him, eyes snapping to where Blue stands behind the fence, alive and aiming one of her dad’s rifles at four strangers. Still dressed in an oversized sleep shirt, she juts the rifle through a gap in the fortification. Two of the strangers are mounted on a brown horse, while the other two flank their sides, backs swollen with rucksacks and chests thick with gear. There is no doubt they have weapons.

"D-don't come any closer or I'll blow your heads off! I mean it!"

“We’re not here to hurt you,” one of them says calmly. A man.

“I don’t care why you’re here! You need to leave before my dad…” Her eyes flicker to you. “Dad!”

When their heads turn in your direction, you waste no time arching the knife over your head. You’re not much without your bow, but this is all you have.

In a split second, your eyes land on the burliest of the group, a man with a boonie hat and a dense, brown beard. He was the one speaking. The leader, maybe. You aim the knife for his head, but before you can throw it, Ghost grabs your wrist, wrenching you to his chest without warning, the knife falling to the ground.

"Wait," he says in your ear, his breath steady against your skin. There’s a detectable lilt of surprise in his voice. You try to squirm free, but he holds tight. "Stay here."

He lets go. Confusion reels through you. Everything in you screams to pick up the knife, but you hesitate as Ghost signals for Blue to lower the gun.

He calmly walks over to the intruders, heading to the man you were aiming for. The air feels thick as you watch with parted lips, stance still readied and breath racing. Ghost stops in front of him, and the two stare at each other strangely before the man smiles.

A strong hand reaches for Ghost’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Simon.”

The clanking of metal against ceramic plates and the low murmurs of a fire fill the cabin.

Your spine presses into the wall.

There isn’t a free chair at the table, but you’re not sure you’d sit in one even if there was. Blue stands beside you, hands laced in front of her. She’s silent. You are, too. The cabin feels cramped with seven people in it. It makes your skin itch. 

You can inspect them more thoroughly now that you’re not thinking about who to kill first. 

There are two men—the older one you believe Ghost called Price, and a younger one you think he called Kyle. He’s fine-looking, you figure, underneath the overgrowth of facial hair and grime smudged on his dark skin. He had a tan cap on earlier but now a head of short, black hair is free for him to slick fingers through every now and then. Then there is a woman, some years older than you. She’s beautiful in a raw, Grecian sort of way, with long black hair and a violet undertone to her skin. Lastly, a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. It doesn't take much to discern he is related to Kyle in some way.

They all look starving, though not as much as you once were. Nevertheless, Ghost is feeding them more than scraps. Canned beans, rice, and rabbit. They shovel it into their mouths. The men have muscles on them, so they can’t have been struggling much. Based on all the supplies they carry and the horse tied to a tree outside, you’ve figured they’ve been traveling for some time. A flurry of questions runs through your brain, but your lips remain in a tight line.

Ghost hasn’t said much yet. He hasn't even explained who they are. Your slitted eyes flicker to him. While the strangers fill up the table, he hovers beside it. His body speaks more than his expression. His shoulders are not tense and lethal as they'd been when you first sat at that table scarfing down food. But they're not relaxed, either; his arms crossed, still exposed from the black tee he'd put on for training, giving way to the slight flexes in his corded muscles that signal even he is thrown off by their presence. 

But he trusts them enough to let them in here. With the way they carry themselves, and the fact that Ghost hasn't killed them, they must've been in the military together. He doesn't seem like the type to have had normal friends. 

Kyle speaks first.

He thrums the pads of his fingertips against the wood and clears his throat, breaking your thoughts. "We were hoping you'd still be here, but it was a shot in the dark."

"I’ve never left," Ghost says, plainly.

Kyle sips from his mug and wipes his mouth, then his eyes shift toward you. You meet his gaze with a hardened look. 

"We're sorry for scaring you."

It takes a moment to realize his words aren't for you. Blue glances to her toes. "I wasn't scared." 

His lips lift. "Of course not. It's us who should've been scared of crossing paths with Simon Riley's kid. You did the right thing, you know. Protecting yourself."

"I didn't realize you knew my dad." She nibbles her lip and looks up. "My name is Blue, by the way. And this is..." Her eyes flick to you. "My friend, Twix."

Your tongue pokes your cheek as you look over the new faces. What are you supposed to say? 

"Hi," is all you settle on.

Ghost clears his throat. "Kid, why don't you clean some more water for them."

Blue nods dutifully, lingering only a second before pouring more river water into the pot over the fire.

"Thank you for your kindness. We haven't had a warm meal like this in days," the woman says kindly.

"It's a strong setup you've made for yourself," Price speaks, one hand stroking his beard while he pushes the cleared plate away with the other. He leans back, boonie hat still cradling his head and casting a shadow over his eyes, but you catch a glimpse of warm brown irises that might've comforted you in any other circumstance.

"It's lasted me this long." Ghost shifts his weight slightly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Near the base by the border, further north."

"Last I heard you were in Manchester."

"Once the radios went out, we picked up my wife," he touches the woman's shoulder, "Nereida, and Kyle's nephew here, Ari, from Newcastle. Made camp with a few others. Served us well for the past five years."

Ghost slowly nods and then drawls, "And Soap?”

Price leans his forearms on the table. "Not quite sure. The base was falling apart, but he stayed back, saying he'd meet up with us once he could. That was five years ago."

You're not sure who Soap is, someone else they worked with, maybe. There is a brief pause before Ghost asks, "Why did you leave?"

"More and more of 'em, Simon," Price replies with a slight shake of his head, emitting a low breath. "Made it difficult to even get food."

"Too many of them, not enough of us," Nereida murmurs distantly. Her hand slips under the table, out of view. You imagine it resting on Price's thigh as she leans into him with a weighted sigh. "They always seem to be moving. Not with a destination in mind, of course, but it was only a matter of time before they ruined our setup. We decided to leave before that could happen."

Kyles adds, "It wasn't an easy decision, but living in anticipation of the worst isn't really living at all."

Your brows lower. “Where exactly could you be headed that wouldn't mean living in anticipation of the worst?” you can't stop yourself from asking, the question burning in your mind. 

Price leans back, those warm brown eyes finding yours. A short heartbeat passes before he answers simply, "Switzerland."

The absurdity of that single word response forces a disbelieving, chuffed breath through your nose. Of all the things this stranger could have said, that would have to be the least expected. You anticipate an equally surprised reaction from Ghost, but he seems unnervingly unfazed. Blue, however, swivels her head from where she sits cross-legged in front of the fire.

"What the fuck is Switzerland?"

"It's another country," the boy—Ari—answers.

Blue glances between him and her dad. "Like... not in England?"

Ari snorts softly. "No, not in England. It's across the channel."

"The channel?" Blue frowns. "That's... far, isn't it?"

"Very far," Nereida confirms with a nod.

The subject is brusquely dropped when Ghost reaches for their cleared plates. "You must want to bathe while you're here. There's a river nearby."

Price clears his throat. "These two can go first." He gestures to the woman and child.

Soon enough, you become irritatingly aware of what's happening; you're being shooed away, along with the kids and Nereida, so the three of them can speak privately. There isn't much room to object as you shuffle out of the cabin, carrying a handful of rags for them to wash with along with the homemade soap that you once used to wash away the grime and earth that caked up from traveling. 

The sun beats hard, the river warmer now that spring has aged. Dried sweat clings to your spine from this morning, but bathing yourself is the last thing on your mind now, not when you're still reeling in the presence of people you don't know. You swing a glance at the cabin behind your shoulder, something in your gut twisting. Ghost doesn't want you there to hear whatever they're talking about. 

"This is a good spot," Blue says, stopping in front of a shallow part of the bank where the water is warmest. She hands Ari some soap and teeters on her toes. You realize why she keeps staring at him like that; he's probably the only other kid she's met in years. She is even more shy than when she first met you. "Twix and I will look away, don't worry."

You and Blue sit perched on a rock as they wash themselves. 

"This is weird," she admits quietly to you.

"Very," you mumble.

When they're done, you offer Nereida the only clean clothes you have at the moment: one of the oversized shirts Ghost gave you and some jeans. An annoyingly strange thought brandishes your brain... you don't like the way the black fabric sits on her bare chest, nipples poking through, and the hem hanging down to her knees as it does on you. You should've just given her the dirty blouse to wear.

She sits at the edge of the river, wringing her soaked hair with a rag. From the corner of your eye, you catch Blue helping Ari rinse his dirty clothes in the water. You want to keep an eye on him; your knife is still nestled around your ankle in case they try anything, though a woman and preteen don't heighten your paranoia as much. 

"How long have you two been together?"

Her soft voice makes you blink. "What?"

"You and Simon."

You're confused until you recall the revelation from earlier—the man you've known the past few months as Ghost, the one whose hard form laid beneath you just hours ago, is actually Simon. Simon Riley. You're tempted to say the name; try it out. But it is hard to reconcile with. It might taste strange on your tongue. The name fits a version of him that doesn't exist in this world now, you suppose. British. Simple. Like John or Kyle. The name of a lieutenant. The bits of his face you've witnessed crosses your mind; his nose, lips, and chin seem like Simon. The damn mask is Ghost, though.

"Jesus... I am not—" You shake your head, the sun even hotter on your neck. "I'm not with him like that. We're just allies." You glance back at the cabin in the distance and you fight a scowl. "If that."

She runs her fingers through ravenous tendrils. "Oh. I apologize for assuming."

You offer a small smile. "It's fine."

"How long have you been staying here then?"

"Um, a few months now. I used to stay with my sister and a friend, but they died."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You shrug. "Everyone has lost important people."

"Doesn't make it easier," she says. "Ari's mom and younger sister used to be with us," she adds quietly with a solemn downward cast of her eyes, as if a memory has taken her for a moment. "They passed two years ago during a really rough winter along with this other couple we knew. Then it was just the four of us."

You inhale through your nose and release, frowning. "No child should have to experience that."

"No," she agrees, nodding. "They shouldn't. Which is why we're looking for a better life for him."

"And you think you'll find it in... Switzerland."

Nereida offers a half-smile, as if reading your thoughts. "We'd heard of a commune there, up in the mountains."

"A commune? Like what, a town?" 

"Sort of. Just... more people, living together. Protected. Greys make awful climbers, and the mountains there are much higher than anything in the UK."

This catches your attention, and the divot between your brows deepens. "How do you know it exists?"

"Well, we can't know for certain. John heard about it at the beginning of the spread, but it was too difficult to make arrangements at the time, especially when he had to help out at the medical site and then come find me. Things were a mess, I'm sure you remember."

"Yeah, I do." You reel in her words, thinking. "That was... years ago, though. Aren't you taking a huge risk going there now? What if nothing is there?"

"Staying in England would be a risk, too," she counters. "There is nothing here except death and hardship. You can't hide from it forever."

You look down at the water. Cicadas fill your ears, the buzzing drowning out your voice. "No, you can't."

You go on a hunt that afternoon, itching for some space to breathe. Deer tracks are harder to spot without the snow, but you find the unmistakeable marks of antlers against a tree and follow them. You glance around the forest. It feels endless and like a cage at the same time. Which way did they come from? If they made it to camp by morning, that means they spent the night here somewhere. You don't like the idea that others could be so close by, like that car.

The sun has turned orange by the time a healthy doe skirts in your peripherals. You stalk it behind an oak. An arrow flies from your bow, but you miss; the deer flees. You return in the dark empty-handed. No doubt, the visitors are fatigued, with Ghost already setting blankets across the cabin's floor for them to sleep on. You offer Ari the couch, figuring an exhausted kid needs it more than you do. He knocks out the moment he lays down.

"Here. For the night." Ghost offers you a heavy blanket and nods to the only bare spot of floor left after they've all settled down. 

You avoid his eyes and accept it. The moment he's disappeared to his room, you slip outside under the starlit night, finding the flattest patch of ground to lay the blanket down, which happens to be only a few paces away from a sleeping horse. It's not the couch, but it'll do for a night or two, and you refuse to sleep in the shed again. 

You're in the midst of standing back up after straightening out your makeshift bed when you bump into something solid. A hand grips your bicep and whirls you around, a pair of darkened eyes glowering down at you.

"What are you doing?" you breathe up at him. "I don't like when you grab me like that."

"What are you doing?" he retorts, voice low and hard.

"Trying to get some sleep."

"Out here?"

You look away and shimmy out of his hold. "Does it matter where I sleep?"

"It's not safe out here."

"You had no problem sending me out here before."

"You have since earned your keep," he mutters, as if annoyed you're even mentioning the past. 

"My spot is taken for the night by your lovely friends, so for however long you plan to let them stay, I will sleep out here."

"There is a spot on the floor for you inside."

"I'm not sleeping in there." With them. 

The whites of his eyes flash as he darts his gaze over your face. His tone softens perceptibly. A mere breath. "They won't hurt you, Twix."

You roll your eyes away from him. "I would just rather sleep out here by myself, okay? I prefer solitude at my most vulnerable. And it's not like my experiences with militant men have been pleasant so far." You keep your tone neutral, but a chill touches your spine at the memory.

Ghost emits a low huff. He suddenly rips the blanket from the ground and turns his back to you. "What are you doing?" you gape at him.

"You'll take my bed," he throws over his shoulder.

[misswynters]

Lil Daredevils with big hearts

featuring. ekko x wife!reader

note. i need more aunt! jinx (this is horrible i don’t like it but i’ve spent way too much time on this)

requested. by anon

Your birthday had been a quiet affair so far, just you, Ekko, and the twins at the Firelight hideout. You hadn’t expected much; after all, it was difficult to celebrate properly in a city like this. But your daughters, ever the spirited pair, had whispered and giggled all morning, plotting something secret. You knew they wanted to surprise you, but you couldn’t have guessed how far they’d go.

The more mischievous of the two, had decided that a proper birthday gift was non-negotiable. Her twin, more cautious but equally devoted, followed her lead. Together, they hatched a plan: She would swipe something special from a merchant in the Piltover market while her sister kept watch. It was innocent enough in their young minds, a way to show how much they loved their mama. But even at five years old, the twins underestimated the risk.

The plan unraveled quickly. The more excited twin had barely snatched a sparkling trinket from a vendor’s table when the merchant shouted, drawing the attention of none other than Caitlyn Kiramman. The Enforcer’s sharp eyes caught sight of the tiny thief darting between stalls, her twin calmer sister trailing behind, trying to call her back. Caitlyn’s voice rang out, calm yet commanding. “Stop right there!”

But the twins didn’t stop. Fear propelled them forward, their small feet pattering against the cobblestones. Caitlyn sighed, reaching for her rifle, intending only to fire a warning shot to make them halt. The sight of the weapon, however, filled you with cold dread as you turned the corner and saw the scene unfolding. Your maternal instincts overrode all reason, and without hesitation, you threw yourself between Caitlyn and the girls just as her finger accidentally squeezed the trigger.

The shot echoed through the narrow street, sharp and unforgiving. Pain exploded in your side as the bullet tore through flesh, and you stumbled, clutching the wound as blood seeped between your fingers. The twins froze in horror, their eyes wide and filled with tears. Caitlyn lowered her rifle instantly, her face stricken with regret. “Oh my gods… I didn’t mean—”

The chaos only deepened as Ekko and Vi arrived, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Ekko’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of you on the ground, bleeding, with Caitlyn standing nearby, rifle still in hand. Rage replaced the shock in an instant. “What the hell did you do?” he snarled, rushing to your side.

Vi, confused and alarmed, held up her hands. “Cait, what’s going on? Who are they?”

Caitlyn stammered, clearly shaken. “I didn’t know they were children—she just—she jumped in the way!”

Before Ekko could unleash the full force of his anger, a familiar chaotic energy entered the scene. Jinx appeared out of nowhere, her wild grin softening when she saw the twins huddled together, crying. “Hey, hey, what’s all this fuss about?” she said, kneeling to their level. “Don’t worry, Auntie Jinx is here.”

You managed a weak smile through the pain. “Jinx… take them. Please.”

Ekko didn’t even need to look to know you trusted her implicitly. Jinx gently scooped up the twins, her tone uncharacteristically soothing. “Come on, munchkins. Let’s go somewhere fun, yeah? Don’t worry about your mama. She’s tougher than she looks.”

The twins clung to her, still sniffling, but they didn’t protest. With one last glance at you, Jinx disappeared as swiftly as she had arrived, the twins safe in her care.

Ekko turned his attention back to Caitlyn and Vi, his protective instincts blazing. “You pointed a gun at my daughters?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Caitlyn stepped forward, guilt etched into every line of her face. “I didn’t know they were yours, Ekko. They were running, and I—”

“That’s no excuse,” Ekko snapped, cutting her off. “They’re kids. My kids. You don’t aim a gun at children, ever.”

Vi, still piecing everything together, held up her hands. “Wait, wait. You’re married? And you have kids?”

“Uh. Yeah, Vi,” Ekko shot back, his tone sharp. “Surprise. Maybe if you and your Enforcer girlfriend weren’t so trigger-happy, you’d probably know that by now.”

“Ekko,” you murmured weakly, placing a hand on his arm. “It was an accident. Please let it go.”

He knelt beside you, his anger softening as he saw the pain in your eyes. “Let it go? She shot you.”

“It was my choice,” you said, your voice firm despite the pain. “I saw the gun, and I jumped. She didn’t mean to.”

Caitlyn crouched down, meeting your gaze with a sincerity that was hard to ignore. “I swear to you, I would never intentionally harm anyone, especially not a child. I’m so sorry.”

Ekko didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his emotions. Vi stepped closer, her expression more serious now. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. If someone hurt my family, I’d lose it too. But Caitlyn made a mistake. Let us help. We’ll get her patched up.”

You reached for Ekko’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Please, my love.”

He let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.”

Vi nodded, offering her hand to help you up. “Fair enough. Let’s get you somewhere safe first.”

Later, back at the Firelight hideout, Ekko hovered over you as you rested on your shared bed, the wound bandaged but still tender. The twins were with Jinx in another part of the hideout, their giggles faintly audible through the walls.

Vi and Caitlyn stood nearby, both uncharacteristically quiet. Ekko finally broke the silence, his voice low but firm. “You’re lucky she’s okay. If she wasn’t…”

“I know,” Caitlyn said softly, her usual confidence replaced by remorse. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Vi crossed her arms, glancing at you. “For what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. Jumping in like that? Not many people would do that.”

You managed a small smile. “Not many people have kids like mine.”

Ekko sat beside you, his hand resting over yours. “They’re lucky to have you as their mom.”

Despite the lingering tension, the room felt a little lighter. Jinx’s voice suddenly called out from the other room. “Hey! The mischievous one is trying to climb the wall again! Who taught these kids to be such little daredevils?”

Ekko sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I wonder where they get it from.”

You laughed softly, wincing as the movement tugged at your side. “Maybe their dad?”

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon @ekkosh @hoonobono @bandletale @thesecondhandwoman @alientee @duchessmoooon @lilbunny1sworld @lil-kpopstan @mbekgsv @lulumallow @ametheslime @sunshiines-stuff @lolana101 @jadeash434 @hobieeeloverrr @misonesaturou @serene6728 @hellokittyfeenie

banner. @anitalenia art. not mine

[milkyblxxd]

Price coming home from deployment, itching with anticipation to see you after weeks apart- only when he enters your home, you’re nowhere to be seen. Anxiety bubbles in him, you always greeted him the second you heard the doorknob twist. Your shoes are neatly placed by the door, keys on the table next to your purse - but where are you?

Suddenly as he’s still scanning the first floor for any indication of where you went, he hears a hacking cough coming from upstairs. Heart beating in his throat he quickly shucks off his shoes and hat, racing up to your shared bedroom. His fingers are grazing the doorknob as he hears sniffling on the other side.

John opens the door carefully, and when he sees you in bed, he’s relieved but worry still swims in his stomach. Tissues litter the floor around your side of the bed, cold and flu medicine bottles haphazardly strewn over your bedside table, a box of saltine crackers spilling out along side. He sees your form under the pile of blankets shielding you, your flushed face the only visible part of your body.

“Oh darling…” he slowly makes his way over, not wanting to startle you.

Your eyes open slightly feeling the shift of the bed under his weight. He can tell by the confused look in your eyes that you’re trying to figure out if he’s really here, or if another fever induced hallucination of him has appeared before you.

“John?” You whimper, trying to sit up.

He stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “It’s me love, I’m home.” His hand moves to your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin. “You’re burning up baby, how long ‘ave you been sick?” The frown on his face is prominent. He can’t stand to see you like this, hates knowing he was away while you had to deal with this illness all alone. He should have been here to nurse you back to health, to take care of you.

Before you’re able to answer, a coughing fit interrupts you. John coos at you, rubbing his hand along your chest. When you stop, you reply, voice croaking from not using it for several days, “S-Since Wednesday,” you place your hand over your eyes, the light shining through your window becoming painful, “I think I’m dying.”

John hums, moving some of your hair out of the way of your sweaty face. “I don’ think so, my love. I think you’re just very, very sick.”

“I wish I was then, it would be better than leaking snot everywhere.” You moan, chest aching with every word.

His shoulders shake in a gentle laugh, you always were a bit dramatic when you became sick. Leaning down, he begins to pick up the stray tissues, wiping up crumbs from the saltines.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” you mumble, “thought I’d be better when you got back to clean.”

John shushes you. “There’s no need to apologize, love. Let me take care of you, yeah?” The way your eyes close shut as he rubs your temple with his thumb makes his own eyes crinkle, smile etching his lips. Even when sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

After finishing cleaning up, John moves to your bathroom to start a bath, adding in your favorite bubble bath scent and lighting a candle that shouldn’t be too overwhelming. Your eyes are shut when he comes back, clearly exhausted. They only open as you feel strong arms slide underneath your body, face flushing even more as you’re picked up like you weigh nothing.

“Come on darling,” John whispers into your hair, “let me get you cleaned up and we can go watch a movie together, I’ll make you some tea too.”

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Barista who is the “poster boy”of the coffee shop he works at. It is honestly deserved: he has a pretty face, a charming smile and a playful yet sweet attitude. He is especially popular among the girls…who he keeps rejecting. He is just not looking for something casual, you know? He dates to marry, not to be someone’s eye-candy.

Yandere!Barista who, one day, sees you walk into the store. Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt you have on ? He loves that band! This is what he tells you when it is your turn to order. What do you mean he looks too much like a goody two-shoes to be a fan? Alright, Miss “I am so dark and edgy”, what do you want to order? Black coffee? The banter goes on until he has to shoo you away, with an amused smile, as the other people in line are starting to get impatient.

Yandere!Barista who glances your way every chance he gets. Not only are you fun to talk to, but you also look really cute. Sometimes, between orders, he gets to converse with you. He eagerly returns your small wave when it is time for you to leave. As he goes to your table to collect the receipt, he finds your cup still there. On it, there is a small doodle of him along with your number. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he brings a hand to cover the side of his face. He is definitely keeping that cup.

Yandere!Barista who saved your number under “Cutie <3”. The more you text each other, the more you hang out together, the more he becomes obsessed. It is honestly starting to scare him. The other night, he had your cup in his hands to look at the doodle. Next thing he knew, he had his lips where yours had been when you were drinking from it. It flustered him so much, he threw the cup in the trash bin afterwards…only to go get it back five minutes later…He is asking you out on a date for sure next time he sees you.

Yandere!Barista who does your coffee with trembling hands. He really doesn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave him a choice. Today, on your usual table, you are sitting with a man other than him. He can’t possibly lose the only person who took the time to get to know him beyond his looks. The drug should work in about fifteen minutes, five minutes after closing time. This should be perfect, you always wait for him to close the shop and walk home together. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this…You will be happy at his house, you will be happy with him. It is with a heavy mind and painful heart that he gives you your order.

Yandere!Barista who you got pinned against the wall of the storage room, one hand beside his head and the other one holding your cup. He is as white as a ghost. He keeps looking around. He is sweating all over. This couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly know- You firmly grab his jaw and turn his face towards you. “Drink”, you say coldly. What are you gonna do to him after he becomes unconscious? Will you report him to the police? Will you hurt him? He closes his eyes tightly as you bring the cup to his lips. The moment it reaches them, you drop it on the floor and replace it with your lips. His eyes open in shock as you give him a small, tender kiss. “That was my cousin, idiot”, you tell him affectionately. You look at him for a couple more seconds before putting on your bag. He is still frozen in place as you add: “Tomorrow, 6pm, at my house. Alright?”. You leave before he can answer.

Yandere!Barista who slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. All that is left of him is a blushing, quivering mess. With shaky fingers, he touches his lips; a small whimper involuntarily comes out his mouth. He is about to combust. He feels so weak, he can’t get up. You scared the shit out of him, but that was so hot ahh…He didn’t know you could be this assertive. And that kiss…he buries his face in his hands and groans. Kissing you is all he has ever dreamed of, yet he stayed still like a dumbass when it finally happened. He is so lame-you make him so lame. Guess tomorrow would be his chance to redeem himself.

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

[pellucid-constellations]

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 

The third sigh was your breaking point. 

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 

“Oh, well in that case—” 

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 

Mor trailed off. 

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 

“Tell me anyways.” 

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 

But it was this. 

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 

“Hi.” 

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 

“No, I—Come in.” 

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 

Something inside of you hurt. 

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 

Gods, you missed him. 

You missed him and everything hurt. 

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 

“You can, angel.” 

“I need to know that you love me.” 

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.” 

“I love you.” 

"I know you do, Az. I know."

[moremaybank]

KISS IT BETTER , jj maybank

── KINKTOBER: PERIOD SEX

"kiss it better, baby." ─ rihanna, kiss it better.

jj maybank x gf!reader

(18+) unprotected sex, period sex, use of a vibrator, praise, extra sweet!jj

your period is ruining your day and jj makes it all better (like only he can)

KINKTOBER , OBX MASTERLIST

the very second jj pushed inside you, you instantly felt at ease. like all your problems and discomfort were melting away solely because he was flooding your senses. you both shuddered when he buried himself all the way. jj's eyes flickered to yours, and he licked his lips.

"love how easy it is to slip inside your pussy when you're like this, baby."

jj had never been shy about period sex. in fact, he made it a point to show you that he craved it. the way your body grew even more responsive. the way the sensitivity of your most knee-weakening spots multiplied. he'd kiss you and you'd mewl for him. pawing at him every few mintues when you needed his attention. needed his lips on your skin and his hands in frisky places.

and also, he had no clue why, but something about it was just so...intimate. and it was crazy becase everyone on the island knew that jj was not the type to use the word intimate.

come on, now.

you were special. you had to be with the way he treated you and eased all your pain like it was second nature to him. he always told you, i got that magic touch, pretty girl. and now, you really, really believed him.

"'n your body's so much more tender, right, baby? almost came when i was licking those pretty nipples, huh?"

jj's hips continued to rock into you with a soothing motion. every inch of him rubbed at your walls, massaging and wringing out every last bit of agony before replacing it with sheer and utter pleasure. your cunt squelched even louder than normal onto the towel laid out beneath you due to the obviously different circumstances, but god, your body was on fire with delight.

even so, you couldn't help the doubts from creeping in. typical hormones.

"j," you whined, though you clawed at his thick shoulders. "s'makin a mess."

jj simply shook his head at you, leaning downward on his forearms. they caged you in while his forehead kissed yours. his eyes never left yours as he spoke. "don't sweat it, mama. focus on me, 'kay? feel that cock slidin' in 'n out..." he smirked with pride when you cried out for him. "yeah...how's that? you feelin' good, my queen?"

"s-so good," you assured him. your lips brushed against his, before you pulled back to look at him with every ounce of desperation you had. "need you, j. need you so bad."

"don't worry, baby. i got you, yeah? gonna make it all better for you. promise."

for a moment, jj's hips came to a halt, and you were left whining in protest. your legs wrapped around his waist securely, just in case he decided to up and abandon you. lucky for you, though, all he did was reach into your night table and grab your vibrator. he switched it on with ease like he'd done many times before, and drew it down the middle of your torso. you sighed as it buzzed down the valley of your breasts, the length of your stomach, and then all the way to rest on your clit. you hissed at the sensation, the sound growing louder as jj started to move inside of you again. he kept himself propped up with his other arm, staring down at you with near heart eyes.

"goddamn, my girl's pretty when she's gettin' fucked."

"fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. i'm gonna cum, j. shit," you rambled, feeling your high creep in you faster than expected with the added sensation. your tits rose and fell heavily as you panted, tempting jj to go temporarily insane.

"go for it, baby. soak my fuckin' cock." you nodded at his encouragement, limbs clinging to him like a koala while he fucked your cunt. all of your hormonal aches and pains were long forgotten as he talked you through it, showering you with love in typical jj fashion. "s'not fair. love you so much, mama...hate watchin' you suffer. y'deserve to feel good all the time. lemme help you."

[mayflysdie]

No more. -Ghost FanFic

Story: Simon's wife is kidnapped and tortured, leaving him and 141 to find her. Hopefully before it's too late.

Trigger warnings: Foul language, torture, violence, body fluids, drugs, knives, choking, restraints, dark themes not suited for minors, mentions of pregnancy, bodily harm, a battle with personalities. (tell me if I messed any)

A/N: Haven't edited this yet so excuse the mistakes. I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2.

When i entered the apartment, something immediately felt off. Like someone made the air thick, and the rooms eerily silent. 

I set my bag down softly, retrieving the combat knife that Simon had given me years ago. My eyes sweep over every shadowy nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for any signs of danger. I'm usually in the habit of leaving the kitchen light on, but it's off tonight - one of the first things I notice upon entering. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand, thankfully I must have forgotten to turn off the silent mode from my earlier meeting. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer it, bringing it up to my ear. 

" Where are you?" Simon's voice is on edge, and it sounds like he's panting. There’s other male voices in the background, it sounds like Price is yelling. 

“Home” I whisper so quietly i’m not sure he could hear me. Or maybe the heartbeat in my ears made it seem that way. 

As I close my eyes for what feels like a mere second, a sudden jolt startles me. The phone is violently knocked out of my trembling hand and a cloth is swiftly placed over my mouth, the stench of chemicals immediately assaulting my senses. My nose and eyes burn with an intensity that is almost unbearable. Fight, do something.

In a moment of panicked instinct, I swing the nearby knife towards the man who had seemingly appeared from the depths of the kitchen, barely managing to nick him in the neck before he grabs hold of my wrist with a vice-like grip. With a sickening crunch, my bones are twisted until I can no longer hold onto the weapon and drop it to the ground, letting out a muffled scream against the suffocating cloth.

Through the hazy fog clouding my mind, I hear Simon's voice growing increasingly distant as he yells through the phone, his words barely registering in my fading consciousness. As my eyes slowly drift shut on their own accord, a sense of numbness begins to envelop my limbs. Simon, Simon please.

The man roughly lifts me up, easily overpowering my weakened attempts at resistance, and I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness creeping in as my consciousness slips away.

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

As my eyes slowly creep open, I become aware of the lingering effects of the drugs coursing through my mind and body. Panic immediately sets in as I realize I am unable to move any part of my body. My heart races as I take in my surroundings - a dark metal room with a pungent odor of iron and decay, like a slaughterhouse filled with rotting carcasses.

I am lying on a cold, hard metal table, shackled down by heavy chains that dig into my skin. 

“it’s an incredible drug, isn’t it?” A deep male voice suddenly echos throughout the room. Coming from the right side of the table, where I can’t turn my head to see them. 

“You can’t move or speak, But… you can feel pain” He chuckles, sounding closer than before. 

Suddenly, something sharp stabs into my arm and I try to cry out in pain, but my body won’t respond. Simon, where are you?

“Mike, turn on the camera would you? It’s time for the show,” he instructed someone else in the room. He grabs my hair roughly and yanks my head to the side, facing him.

Then I notice a tightness around my throat, something cold and hard. is there a chain around my neck? I panic, eyes widening.

the man sees my panic and laughs, tossing his head back as if he’s seeing the best thing in the world. 

“Oh that’s good, I love that expression. I hope Ghost does too” He starts tracing my neck and collar bone with a knife. not yet slicing me, but enough pressure to leave raised, red lines. 

“It’s nothing personal, darling,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear as he lowers himself closer to me. My body tenses and I want to desperately move away. “But, a life for a life, hm?” He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on my skin. “Unfortunately for you, I plan to make your death slow for him. His precious thing.”

My heart races as he drags the sharp blade down my collar bone, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A searing pain shoots through my chest as he cuts a deep line between my breasts, and down to my lower abdomen. The knife seems to find its home there, digging deeper with each passing second. I want to scream, to kick and squirm away from the agony, but I am paralyzed.

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

Simon runs into the apartment, gun drawn though he already knows they left. That they got what they came for. A dark pit forms in his stomach, blind fury almost overwhelming him. 

He bends down to pick up your phone, and just stares at it. if only he could’ve called sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. 

The vow he made when you married; to always protect you, let no harm befall you. 

it rings in his head nonstop, like a broken record. 

Soap and Price slowly walk through the entrance, Price on the phone with Laswell, who’s trying her best to locate you. 

Simon stands up when Soap places a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on his face. “We’ll find the lass”. But his words go in one ear and out the other. 

Price walks into the living room in a hurry, grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. “Simon” He says, and something in his tone makes Simon, and Soap move with haste to see what’s going on. 

Simon's trembling legs nearly give way beneath him as he stumbles towards the couch, reaching out to grab it for support when he sees your face on the television screen. His heart drops to his stomach as he takes in the sight of you, battered and bloody. The camera zooms out, revealing the full extent of your injuries, and that's when bile rises in Simon's throat, threatening to overflow.

He remembers how he used to run his hands across your perfect skin while lying in bed together, or how he would sneak a hand up your shirt while you were cooking and you would just giggle and swat him away with a spoon. He remembers staring into your eyes, like honey pools reflecting all the love in the world. But now they're red and swollen, almost unrecognizable.

Simon rushes to the nearest bathroom, tearing off the balaclava covering his face. He hunches over the toilet as his stomach lurches and empties itself, leaving him dry heaving and gasping for air.

Images from his past come rushing back at full force - bodies, blank stares, all reminders of the darkness that seems to follow him wherever he goes. But you were supposed to be the one good thing in his life. goddamnit, You were supposed to stay.

As Simon stands up and flushes the toilet, trying to steady himself, something catches his eye on the counter. Something white with a blue cap. His mind turns to static as he reaches for it and sees two very obvious red lines.

He slowly walks out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test held tightly in his hand. 

The television screen is now dark and silent, but Price and Soap still stare at it with blank expressions.

Simon closes his eyes, breathing slowly. calming his racing heart, steadying his mind. 

“Simon?” Price calls out, but he ignores him. 

Simon can’t be here.

He's too fragile for this. Too emotional and vulnerable. A man who let himself love and be loved, only to have his world torn apart.

No, what his wife needs now is a ghost. Someone strong and unfeeling, who won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. They took his beloved wife, his reason for living.

And now, he has a child on the way. She’s carrying his child and they’re harming her, hurting his wife and child. 

Not my family, not again.

No.

No.

No. 

This world will burn before something happens to them.

Finally, he opens his eyes, and Price is standing closer than before, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy test in Ghost's hand. His face has gone pale with realization.

“Simon?”

Simon isn’t fucking here. 

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[hanniebaeee]

The Wedding

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing other than some shameless flirting and kissing

Genre: arranged marriage, best friends to lovers, flufff

Summary: You and Felix grew up together and are best friends. You both always knew that you'd have an arranged marriage, that's how it always works. But you don't expect to have an arranged marriage with your best friend.

Part 2 - The Honeymoon

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. Of all the things in the world you expect your parents to say to you, this was never on the list. Your mum is going on about "you and Felix finally being together."

Felix?!

As in, Lee Felix, your best friend, Felix?

The one who let you cheat off his math tests back in high school? Your partner in crime?

Your parents look so happy about this. Your dad is nodding approvingly as your mum goes on about how wonderful this will be, because Felix has always been like her son anyway.

You slip outside once your dad pats your shoulder softly and tells you that he's such a good boy and perfect for you. Pulling out your phone, you call him, your hands trembling. Felix answers after one ring.

“Bro, what’s happening here?” he says, his deep laugh rumbling through the line. Oh, so he knows.

The urge to whack him - again - on calling you "bro" is so strong, but just for this time, you let it slide. But your heart flutters a little because he sounds unexpectedly warm and close…like he’s right next to you.

“Are you… like, okay with this?” you ask, your voice a little shaky.

He pauses, then his voice softens.

“I mean… yeah. I guess. I mean, it's us…better than… you know?” he says, and you just know that he's blushing. You can imagine that soft pink of his cheeks and the perfect dusting of freckles - ok, get a grip!

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He’s right. You knew you would have an arranged marriage at some point. That's how it works in your family, well, your families. But this is Felix. Your Felix.

You meet later that afternoon, in your usual cafe. He's smiling as you approach and take a seat across him. But this time, everything feels different.

“Hello, princess,” he teases, his grin wide as he sits back, eyes trained on you. “Should I start calling you wifey now?”

“Stop it,” you hiss, kicking him under the table, but he only laughs, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, come on, fiancée,” he says, stretching out the word like he’s savoring it. “Aren’t you excited? You get to see this face every morning now.”

He points at himself, giving you a cocky grin.

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh, lifting your hand to attack him, but he just catches it and holds it.

You freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm his fingers feel against yours, his thumb tracing small circles along your skin.

“Hey, don’t get shy on me now,” he whispers, leaning in just a bit closer. “You've literally been my wifey for so long…?”

Your cheeks are on fire, and you yank your hand back, trying to ignore the way your heart is trying to leap out of your chest.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bro,” you mutter, trying to recover as he just laughs harder.

“Hey, if I’m your fiancé, I better not hear that word coming from your mouth,” he warns, grinning. “Unless you want me to punish you for it.”

“Oh my God! What's up with you all of a sudden?!” You say, totally exasperated with his change. “And besides, it's not like you can just-”

He raises a brow and says, “Try me.”

And that’s when you realize that Felix is actually not just ok with. He's absolutely fucking celebrating this.

A storm of engagement prep begins (immediately), and your mum takes matters into her hands to ensure you look like the world’s most ‘eligible’ bride-to-be. This means you are in and out of boutiques and fittings and stylings and what not. It's a pain.

“Mum, please,” you groan, eyeing that ridiculous necklace she's holding out to you. “Felix doesn’t care if I wear that. He’s seen me looking like a troll! I don't have to-”

“That was before he had to put a ring on your finger in front of every important person in town,” she says, pinning you with that look. “Do you want Felix regretting this before he even says ‘I do’?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Felix wanders in casually, and leans against the doorframe watching you both glare at each other.

“Lixie!” you say, calling him over to settle the debate. “Do you or do you not find me sexy and appealing?”

Your mum’s mouth drops open at your bluntness and she glares daggers at you, but Felix just smirks as he walks over to you.

“Of course I find you sexy and appealing, wifey,” he says, with a shameless wink in your mum’s direction.

You mum sighs before she leaves the rooms, huffing and muttering something about “you two being a lost cause”.

The second the door closes, you give him your best glare. “I told you, stop calling me that.”

Felix just grins, tilting his head and letting his voice drop into a low drawl as he says, “What else would I call my wifey, hmm?”

You feel that little flip in your tummy, and you try to step back, but he only follows, stepping closer.

“FELIX!” you warn, heart racing as he grins, closing the distance between you until his face is dangerously close to yours.

“Where are you going?” he teases, his eyes glinting playfully.

You let out a huff, backpedaling toward the door.

“Outta here,” you say quickly, but he steps forward, his hand braced against the wall next to your head, blocking your way.

“What’s wrong, wifey?” he whispers, voice sultry. “Not scared of me, are you?”

“Please,” you scoff, though your cheeks are burning. “You're so full of yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he smirks, looking down at you like he wants to eat you up.

You swallow, eyeing him suspiciously, because what the hell happened to your goofy bestie? But before you start to side step him, he steps back with a satisfied grin, letting you go.

“I came to tell you that we're going ring shopping tomorrow.” He says with a wink. “You, me and mum.”

“Ok, you don't have to kill me for that.” You grumble, as you take the chance to bolt out of the room. You're sure you hear him chuckle behind you, and you can't help but smile.

Ring shopping with Felix and his mum is already more nerve-wracking than you expected. Mummy dearest just wants you to have anything you want. Or everything.

A pair of pretty earrings catch her attention and she floats away to take a look, and Felix sidles up next to you, giving you that smirk of his.

"Just pick whatever you like, Lix,” you tell him, attempting nonchalance as you point to a display case. “It’s just a ring - I really don't mind."

“It should be something you like, don’t you think?” he asks, his eyes never leaving you.

You narrow your eyes at him, flustered.

“Yah, I'll like anything you choose, ok?” you mumble, looking away, hoping that you don't look like a tomato in a dress.

“Of course,” he says, looking through the rings.

You start browsing too, but every time you risk a glance at him, you find him staring at you with that amused smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Felix,” you hiss, trying not to stutter. “Will you stop that? You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry babe,” he says, his voice low. “Can’t help it… ”

Your face heats up, and you stumble over your words as you try to regain some dignity. Just then his mum is back, and gives him a little slap on his arm.

“Felix, stop making her uncomfortable.” she scolds, and he just laughs and asks you, “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” You scoff. “I’m two seconds away from shoving these rings down your throat.”

He bursts out laughing and says,“Ah, there’s my girl. Feisty as ever.”

You shoot him a look, desperately trying to fight your smile, and glance over at the rings. You two finally settle on a delicate design - a simple band with a round diamond gleaming in the center.

“Good choice,” he says, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Looks like it was made for you.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you can’t look away from him. There's a warm, unfamiliar feeling stirring in your chest, and it just makes you want to pull him into a hug.

“Well, it’s perfect! Let’s get it.” Felix’s mum claps her hands, calling an end to your ring hunt.

The engagement party is a whirlwind of lights, drinks and an endless stream of guests congratulating you and Felix. The venue is breathtaking - but the heat and attention are a bit overwhelming. Your dress, though gorgeous, is sticking to your body uncomfortably, and it's getting harder and harder to keep your smile up. You feel your anxiety creeping up, ready to take over.

Just when you think you might combust under the pressure, you feel a warm hand slip into yours. You look up to see Felix, and without a word, he tugs you out of the crowd and into the gardens.

Outside, the cool air feels so good on your sweaty skin, and you sigh in relief. Felix leads you to a little bench nestled under a tree, and you see a glass of wine and a plate with a slice of cake he’s swiped from the party. And also a little bottle of water from his pocket.

“Better?” he asks, as he watches you take a sip of the water.

“Much better,” you breathe, grinning. “I was about to go hide under a table.”

He chuckles, leaning back and taking a sip of the wine, his eyes lingering on you.

“Couldn’t let my fiancée be hiding under tables, could I?” he says, nudging your knee with his.

You roll your eyes, laughing. But you catch a glimmer of something softer in his expression, something almost vulnerable.

“So…” he begins, looking away, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re really okay with this? I mean, me? Doing this with me?”

You can tell he’s hiding a bit of worry behind his charm, afraid you’re anxious about being with him. The thought alone makes your heart ache a little, and you reach out, slipping your hand into his. You give his fingers a gentle squeeze and smile softly.

“Felix,” you say, looking him right in the eyes, “I’m so glad it’s you. I really am. I mean, I feel like the luckiest person alive to be marrying my best friend.”

For once, his easy, cocky confidence falters. He blushes, a soft pink covering his cheeks as he looks down, biting his lip. He lets out a small, shy laugh, his fingers tightening around yours.

“I feel the same,” he murmurs, his voice so low, it's barely audible.

Felix wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, tight hug. You let yourself sink into it, your own arms going around his neck. You feel his heartbeat against yours, everything else fading away as you just hold each other.

This feels so good - just the two of you, close, cozy, and warm. But just as you’re starting to relax, you feel his hands begin to wander. It slides a bit too low down your back and you pull back to stare at him, wide eyed.

“Felix!” you whisper-yell, squirming. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “Can’t a man hug his future wife?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s impossible to keep a straight face as he grins down at you like that.

“If you want to keep all ten of your fingers, you'd be more careful.” you say dryly, letting him pull you in for another quick squeeze before finally letting go. But his arm stays draped around your shoulders, as if he’s not willing to let you go just yet.

If engagement prep was a pain, wedding prep is basically a full-time job. Your days are a blur of dress fittings, cake tastings, and jewelry appointments - and it's totally exhausting.

And if all that wasn’t enough, your mum has taken it upon herself to enforce a strict “no Felix” rule until the wedding. Apparently, she thinks that if you keep hanging out with him, you’ll run out of things to talk about post-wedding. You practically choke on air when she says it.

“Are you serious? He's my best friend! Who am I going to talk to then?” you ask, only to get a very serious look from her.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me when you’ve still got some surprises left.” she says, and you just huff, mentally counting down the hours until you can actually see Felix without her watching you like a hawk.

During dinner with Felix and his family that night, your mum casually drops the news that both sets of parents have planned to gift you and Felix a massive, all-expenses-paid honeymoon.

Felix glances at you from the opposite side of the table, trying not to grin and you do your best not to look at him. And he nudges your foot under the table and you nudge back, until your mum gives you a sharp glare and you quiet down.

Later that night, Felix sneaks over to your room as the parents get busy, and you both sit cross-legged on your bed, a laptop open between you, scrolling through honeymoon destinations. The choices are endless - beach resorts, mountain cabins, historic villas, exotic getaways…

“A beach resort, huh? Imagine you… in one of those little bikinis…all warm and sun-kissed. I suggest a beach resort.” Felix says, leaning into you.

You sigh as you say, “Felix! Shut up! I assure you there won't be any bikinis.”

He laughs and says, “Or what about the mountains? We’ll be all alone in a cozy cabin, we can just get comfy in front of the fire with the snow falling outside… and absolutely nothing else to do all day. Just you know…it's always the cold that -”

He playfully shoves you a little, and you shove him back a little too hard that he falls off the bed and lands on the thick rug with an exaggerated groan, rolling onto his back with a pained look.

Just as you’re about to scold him for being ridiculous, your door creaks open, and your mom walks in, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Felix sprawled on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she screeches, giving you an incredulous look.

You freeze, as if caught committing a crime, as you stutter, “He - Mum, he was asking for it.”

She puts a hand on her hip, shaking her head.

“That’s no way to treat your future husband! Honestly, Y/N, his parents are still downstairs!” she scolds.

Felix, barely containing his laughter, shakes his head.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Y/L/N. She just doesn’t agree with my honeymoon choices, that’s all.” he says, looking like a perfect angel.

You shoot him a glare and say, “That’s because they’re terrible.”

“Oh, really?” he says, smirking as he stands up, brushing himself off. “I just suggested a few exciting options. It’s not my fault you’re so-”

“Felix,” you interrupt, your voice dangerously low, “I swear to God-”

Your mom sighs, looking between the two of you with exasperation. “I have nothing to say to you two. Felix, I need you downstairs in 10 minutes. No excuses.”

“Yes ma'am.” He says, giving her a salute and she leaves, shaking her head.

You let out a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the smug grin on Felix’s face as he plops back on the bed beside you. He's sitting closer now, it feels like he's trying to climb into your lap.

“Alright, love,” you mutter. “We’re not going anywhere with snow. If I’m going to be stuck with you, I’m going to need sunshine.”

He grins and says, “Ah, so you do want to wear the little bikini.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the little shiver of excitement that courses through you. You point to the screen, settling on a gorgeous beach resort with crystal-clear waters and beach cabins.

“Happy?” you ask, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

The look in his eyes is wicked, leaving you flustered.

The night before the wedding, you’re a wreck. You’re an anxious mess, and every time you close your eyes, all you can think about is the ceremony, the crowd, the vows… and of course, the part where you’re supposed to kiss Felix. In front of a hundred people. For the very first time.

Finally, at the end of your rope, you grab your phone and text Felix.

You: Are you sure about tomorrow? Like sure sure?

He replies almost instantly.

Lix: Why would you even ask me that?! Are you planning on ditching me tomorrow?

Lix: Babe? Y/N don't scare me like that!

You: No! No no no...I'm sorry.

You: I just...I miss you.

There’s no reply, and you regret having texted him. A fresh wave of anxiety hits you, when you hear a sound at your window. You look over, and there he is - Felix, grinning as he climbs in like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh my God, you’re insane,” you say, but you’re smiling as you rush over and throw your arms around him, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you tight.

“Can't let you freak out alone, you know,” he murmurs, his voice soft in your ear. “I want you to know that “I’ve never been this happy before. Marrying you… it’s the best thing that could happen to me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you want to say something equally romantic back, but all you can manage is a soft, “I’m scared.”

His face softens, and he squeezes you a little before asking, “Of me?”

“No,” You sigh. “About everything else. All the people, they'll all be watching us…I'm scared about… kissing you…it's -” You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed to admit it.

“Ohhh,” he says, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “So that’s what’s got you all worked up. The kiss?”

He raises an eyebrow, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “Well, you know, if you need to practice, I’m here to help.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as he gazes at you with so much love and mischief.

“What-”

“Shh, just let it happen, ok?”

He inches closer and you can barely breathe as you meet his gaze. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

And then, he closes the distance, his lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss is gentle at first, so warm and soft, but then he leans in a little closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing so fast you’re sure he can hear it.

This is real. This is actually real. You’re kissing Felix - your best friend, your almost-husband. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

When he finally pulls back, he’s smiling.

“Well,” he says, sounding a bit breathless, “consider that practice round one.”

You can’t help but laugh. He gives you one more soft, lingering kiss, and you feel a strange mix of excitement and calm wash over you.

“Tomorrow’s going to be perfect,” he whispers, his lips touching your forehead. “I promise.”

The wedding is a fairytale. A garden venue draped with twinkling fairy lights and flowers. But nothing compares to the way he gazes at you as you walk down the aisle, like he can’t believe this moment was real. The whole day is a dream - except when your mum cries and cries so hard, it makes you cry and it makes Felix cry.

Now, as the two of you step into your new apartment together, just you and him - you feel like your heart might just burst. You’re still in your wedding dress, the delicate lace and silk brushing against your skin as Felix closes the door behind you.

It's so silent and you can’t tell if the excitement or the nerves are stronger, but it feels like your skin is on fire.

Felix catches your gaze, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, but the way he looks at you is so warm and soft. He takes your hand, leading you into your bedroom.

“Let's get you out of all this,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

You nod, more than happy to be free of it all. You watch him take off his coat, tossing it on the bed.

As you take off your earrings, you feel his hands move to your hair, slowly pulling out the pins that hold it in place, one by one. He’s silent, focused, his every touch so tender. Your hair falls loose, and he lets his fingers comb through it, smiling.

“You looked stunning today,” he says. “I really had to hold myself back so I don't embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you manage to giggle and say, “You’re such a flirt, Lixie.”

“Only for you, wifey.” His voice dips low, his fingers trailing down to the back of your neck.

Your hands are trembling slightly as he moves to the zipper of your dress, sliding it down slowly. The fabric loosens, and he eases the dress off your shoulders, letting it pool softly at your feet.

“Still nervous?” he whispers, his hands resting on your waist.

You swallow, nodding. “A little.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a feather-light kiss to your collarbone. “Just be yourself, yeah? You're perfect.”

You bite your lip, the butterflies in your stomach going wild as he presses a kiss on your cheek, then one just below your jawline. Your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt, crumbling it under your fingers.

“Felix,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up as he teases a line of kisses down your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

And when he finally leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s so tender and achingly sweet, you put your arms around him, sinking into him.

The teasing glint in his eyes turns into something darker and he leans closer, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

"So, Mrs. Lee,” he murmurs, “How’s it feel to finally be mine?”

[hihomeghere]

Carousel Club | Five Hargreeves / Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After being dropped into 1963, you find work at the Carousel Club as a dancer. While following a tip where Luther could be, Five sees your routine. Overwhelmed by jealousy he sneaks into your dressing room. (I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters.) Warnings/Tags : Smut, cursing, piv, men being sexist (its the 1960s what do you expect?) dom!Five, Aged up!Five. A little bit of angst. Not requested.

You always trusted your husband. He was your constant in a very fucked up world. You knew he would never purposely harm you, or put you in harm's way. Sometimes that meant following him through time and space, other times it meant trusting him to not burn your dinner. So when he said he had a way out of the mess you and your in-laws had caused, of course you trusted him wholeheartedly. 

You grasped Five’s hand tightly in your own, feeling a sense of deja-vu from the last time you two tried to spacial jump. Diego gingerly held your other hand, you looked up at him giving him a curt nod. He returned the nod before looking around at the rest of his siblings. You raised your eyes to the gaping hole in the ceiling, the intricate details of the theater framing the crumbling moon. Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. You gave him a reassuring smile, well as reassuring as you could.

Electricity crackled around the seven of you, wind whipping your hair in front of your face. Five’s grip on your hand was almost crushing, like you were his lifeline. A giant blue orb of energy appeared above your family, growing and glowing. Five strained under the pressure, his face contorting into a pained expression. The blue light enveloped you all, flickering and pulsing. 

“Hold on! It’s gonna get messy!” Five yelled as the ground shook beneath you, shutting your eyes tightly you felt yourself being pulled away from Five and Diego. You only had a moment of panic before you were thrown to the ground.

You groaned sitting up, the blue light of energy blinding you. You raised your hand shielding your eyes.

“Five!” You yelled as you got to your feet. As fleeting as the orb had appeared it disappeared, as though someone had turned an old tv off. Was that a flash, or just your imagination? You shook your head, taking in your surroundings. No Five, no siblings, no briefcase. Where the hell were you? 

You wandered down the alleyway to the main street. Your hip twinged in pain after taking the brunt of your fall. You looked around the street, the lampposts and storefront neon signs were your only light source. You sank down on a bench, letting out a deep sigh. Your eyes wandered to a newsrack, you quickly got to your feet. You ran to it, holding the sides of the glass case. 

August 1st, 1963. Dallas, Texas.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Damn it, Five. Shit, Alison. God, where were the rest of Five’s siblings?

“Honey, are you alright?” A soft voice asked, you turned your head sharply. You were met by a sweet woman’s face, big blond hair and bangs. She had a cardigan wrapped tightly around herself as she reached out to touch your shoulder. You shook your head, still coming to terms with the last five minutes. “Come on, I’m just about to go get something to eat, why don’t you join me?” She said, smiling sweetly.

“I-” You cleared your throat, “I don’t have any money.” You said, shaking your head. “Well then my treat.” She said helping you to your feet. You followed the woman down the streets of Dallas to a quaint diner. You sat down across from her, taking a look over the menu. People chattered mindlessly around you as you came to terms with your situation.

“I’ve seen that look before.” She said, setting her menu down on the table. 

“What look?” You said furrowing your eyebrows.

“That look. Every girl I work with has had that same look.” She huffed thanking the waiter as he set down a coffee cup in front of her. “Small girl in the big city, not knowing where you’re gonna stay or what you’re gonna eat. Believe me, I’ve seen that look before because I’ve felt that before.” She said reaching across the table, taking your hand in hers. “So what’s your story, sweetheart?” You took a breath, choosing your next words carefully.

“My husband and I got separated.” You whispered, “My parents didn’t agree with our marriage and so we ran away. He was supposed to meet me here in Dallas but he didn’t show.” You said, not technically a lie, Five was supposed to be here with you.

“Oh dear,” She tsked, “well you do not have to worry about that anymore. I’m so glad I found you! You can stay with me until you get back on your feet.” You smiled, hopefully Five wouldn’t make you wait much longer. 

“Thank you…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t caught her name.

“Autumn.” She answered, holding out her hand for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n.” You smiled, taking her hand.

“You know Y/n, I could put in a good word for you with my boss. He may seem a bit rough around the edges, but we’re always short staffed.” She shrugged. Whatever the job was you would only have it for hopefully a week tops before Five caught up with you, along with his siblings.

“I appreciate it Autumn.” You smiled, patting her hand.

-

When you arrived at Autumn's place of work you wondered if you were a little over your head. You followed Autumn into the back entrance of the nightclub. You passed by many half dressed women, putting on their makeup and outfits. 

“This way sweetheart!” Autumn called, you picked up your pace following her through the dressing room. Once on the main floor of the club you were greeted by the intense smell of cigars. Autumn had all but disappeared, you wandered through the tables. Trying to work your way to the front of the club, while also trying to avoid the men’s wandering hands at the tables. 

“Y/n!” She called from a table, you turned your head. The club was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You were face to face with Jack Ruby, the man who would put the hit out on Lee Harvey Oswald. You gulped, straightening your shoulders you walked over to them.

“Mr. Ruby, this is Y/n she’s looking for a job.” Autumn said, clasping her hands together. Jack looked you over, a cigar dangling from his lips. 

“Y/n who?” He said leaning back in his chair. You stuttered but only for a second.

“Y/n L/n,” You said with a smile, Hargreeves might get Five or your in-laws in trouble if anyone here caught wind of that name. He puffed his cigar, leaning over to whisper something to the man next to him. He chuckled before nodding, you bit your cheek. Feeling like a piece of meat in front of these men.

“Can you start tonight?” He said, lacing his fingers together. 

“Of course.” You replied, Autumn cheered quietly beside Mr. Ruby.

“Autumn, be a dear and show her the dressing rooms. Tell ‘em I want Miss Y/n to be on stage by tomorrow night.” He said motioning with his cigar in hand. On stage? You turned sharply looking toward the stage of the nightclub, scantily clad women fanning themselves with large feather fans. 

“Yes sir Mr. Ruby!” Autumn giggled, taking your arm and walking you towards the back.

-

You sat in front of your vanity, lined by bright golden bulbs. Brushing glitter onto your eyes before adding your long eyelashes. It had been three months since you had taken on your new job, along the way you had made many friends. You felt for all the girls alongside you, it was a rough profession but it paid well. You pulled your robe close around your body, walking over to the clothing rack. You rifled through the sheer jeweled fabric before your eyes landed on the black and white body suit. You threw your outfit over your arm heading back to your vanity. You were greeted by a beautiful bouquet of red roses, Autumn standing next to them with a coy smile.

“Autumn! Who are these from?”

“A secret admirer,” she cooed her bright red lips pulling back into a smile, “Just teasing! It’s from all of us girls here,” She said as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. Her cheap perfume floods your senses along with her sweet sweat.

“Y’all didn’t have to do that!” You smiled as she pulled away, she only waved you off.

“You’re one of the best here! Don’t know where you learned all your little tricks.” She said bumping your elbow with her own. She looked down at your costume in your arms. “Need help?” Autumn asked, holding out her hand. 

“Yes please.” You said handing her your suit as you lowered your robe. You held onto her shoulders stepping into the suit, you adjusted your straps as Autumn tightened your corset. You admired yourself in the mirror, since taking on your new job you had become more toned. More than when you had worked at the commission, and these clothes were definitely more flattering than your blue suits you used to wear. You took in a sharp breath as Autumn pulled through the last loops, tying the ribbon with a neat bow.

“Alright sister, you’re ready.” She said squeezing your shoulders.

“Thanks Autumn, now go take your break!” You said waving her off. 

“Y/n! You’re on next!” Shannon called from the stage door. You nodded, quickly stopping to smell the sweet scent of your roses before grabbing your tulle skirt. You tied it around your waist as you walked backstage. You picked up your red feather fans, taking a deep breath. You walked up to the closed red curtains listening to the deafening cheers and whistles. You heard the clink of the ropes being pulled back before you were blinded by the spotlights. You closed your eyes, bowing your head, your body covered by the bright red fans. 

You started your routine, swaying your hips seductively as you pulled the fans back away from your body teasing the audience. You lost yourself in the music, thankfully it was difficult to decipher anyone’s face over the shadows cast by the spotlights. You unclipped the tulle skirt, throwing it off stage. You could make out a certain group of sailors, and a rather large man standing by the bar. 

You teased the audience, covering your body with the fans before flashing them a glimpse of your shimmering body suit. You pulled the fans over your head, rotating your hips in a circular motion as you lowered into a squat. You bounced on your heels before jumping back up to your feet. You smirked as the men whistled and cheered. 

The music slowed, and faded out as you walked behind the red curtain. You dropped off your fans before heading back to your dressing room. You opened the door, shutting it behind you. 

“Who sent the roses?” Five’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head sharply, meeting Five’s predatory gaze.

“Five!” You gasped, your heart soaring in your chest. “When did you get here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” He said, crossing his arms. Your smile fell off your face, what was his problem? It’s not your fault that he dropped you off in the middle of 1963 with no resources. 

“Three months ago.” You said furrowing your brows, “I’ve been looking for you this whole time!” He scoffed, clicking his tongue.

“Oh really? It looks like you’ve been getting enough attention without me.” He huffed, glaring at the bouquet of roses.

“Excuse me for finding a way to survive here.” You spit pushing past him, knocking his shoulder against yours. You took a seat in front of your vanity, pulling out your makeup kit. He stalked up behind you, towering over you. He gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him through the mirror, effectively smearing your bright red lipstick.

“You’re mine.” He sneered, his lips pulling back over his teeth. You flushed, heat pooling in your core. You stared up at him through the mirror, his fingers squeezing your lips together. “Got it?” He asked. You glared at him, a devilish thought entering your mind. 

You kept quiet, smirking as you watched a shadow pass over his features. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“You must need a lesson.” He smirked, pulling you to your feet, you stumbled slightly in your heels. He kicked the chair away, you jumped as it thudded against the carpeted floor. His arm moved behind you, sweeping everything off of your vanity along with the roses. They crashed to the floor, the vase shattering. He pushed you against the vanity, caging you in with his arms as he slammed his hands against the mirror. He stared down at you with a wolfish grin, you felt yourself flush. Your heart started to beat faster as you squirmed under him.

“Yes sir.” You said tilting your chin up, staring at him through your lashes. He growled spinning you around, your hands splayed out in front of you on the top of the vanity. His hand connected to your ass cheek, letting out a low chuckle as you gasped. He moved your hair off of your back, his cold fingers attacking the strings of your corset. 

“Stupid- fucking- ribbon-“ he said through gritted teeth, you caught the slightly crazed look in his eye through the reflection. Your body felt on fire, three months without him made every touch that more exhilarating. As soon as the corset was loose enough he was ripping it off of your body, along with your panties. You were entirely bare in front of your fully dressed husband. He stepped back, loosening his tie as he watched you squirm in the mirror. 

“Not so confident now, dearest.” He smirked, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt. You breathed hard, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your nipples hardened against the cold air in the dressing room. You heard the familiar metal on metal as he took off his belt before unzipping his pants. He walked up behind you, nosing his dick against your folds. You clenched around nothing, pushing back against him. His hand came up to the back of your skull, wrapping his fist through your hair. He stared at you through his darkened gaze, you were breathless, your lips parting slightly.

“Please,” you whined, batting your eyelashes. He forcibly thrusted all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You let out a pornagraphic moan before you covered your mouth with your hand. He grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your mouth and holding it behind your back.

“Why don’t you let everyone here know who you belong to?” He huffed in your ear, thrusting erratically into you. You gripped the desk, the only thing holding you up as Five plowed into you. “Let them know that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” You clenched around him as his words seemed to straight directly to your core. He let out a groan, loosening his grip on your hair. “Fuck you like this don’t you?” You nodded enthusiastically, your eyes rolling back into your head as his cock prodded against your g-spot.

“Yes, yes Five!” You babbled tears pricking your eyes, as he bent you over the desk. His hands flew to your hips, pulling them against his own thrusts. You could only lay there as your orgasm came crashing down. You were thankful you were on top of the vanity because there was no way your trembling legs would have been able to hold you up. 

Five’s eyebrows knit together as he arched his neck back, his hips stuttering as his orgasm quickly followed yours. Cumming with a loud shout he collapsed on top of you, your sweat causing his thin shirt to stick to your skin. He pulsed inside of you as he gingerly tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. He pulled away, peeling himself off of you. He kissed your shoulder as his softened cock slipped out of you. Your breathing was slowly coming back to normal as he tried to return your room to the state it was before he had destroyed it and you. He picked up your robe draping it over your shoulders. You sat up, feeling his cum start to drip down your thighs.

“What took you so long?” You asked, tying your robe close around your naked body.

“I just got here.” He sighed, tucking himself back into his pants. “I’m sorry I made you wait.” He turned to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I’ll always wait for you.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you against his chest, resting his cheek against yours.

“At least someone will, Luther and Diego weren’t too happy about me dumping them in the past.” Five sighed. Diego and Luther were here, too?

“Where are they?” You asked, turning to Five with wide eyes. Five looked at you inquisitively, a small smile pulling on the corner of his mouth.

“Luther works for Jack Ruby, y/n. I found him in this club before I knew you worked here.” Your stomach dropped. Luther worked for Jack Ruby? That means he must have seen your numbers.

“Oh god.” You said mortified, hanging your head against Five’s chest. He chuckled, shaking his head as he lightly rubbed your back.

“Believe me, he was just as mortified as you are.” He said, “Although I must say I thoroughly enjoyed your routine.” He lowered his voice, his hands trailing down your body to rest on your butt.

“I think I could give you a private showing.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his tie. You pulled him forward by his tie, smashing your lips against his. His hands gripped your hips, the velvety fabric smooth against his palms. 

“God I’d love that,” He let out a sigh, “but maybe we should wait until after we save the world.” 

Again? It was happening again?

“Vanya?” You asked, pulling away.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged, “All I know is on November 25th the world ends, again.” 

“Guess it’s time for a family reunion.”

[acid-ixx]

Planned Fanfics !

ft. platonic/ yandere batfam, superfam, villains, au's & many more!

— Disclaimer! This contains massive spoilers and all my plans for future works that I'll soon publish. This is posted because I wish to update my readers upon the contents of what I'm working to write and for them to leave inputs and whatnot. Sorry for the delays and all, life is hectic and as much as I love writing, I also have a life outside of this site sadly. By the way, this is not even half of my drafts and if anyone is interested in the things written beneath here, then please do tell!

To Be His Child is All I want (A&A, Chapter 5): Confronting Jason, one of your brothers who played a role in neglecting you, and being partly the reason why you ventured out the manor to seek love, away from the unhealthy environment, was no easy task. Back and forths with him, and reasoning why you don't wish to return back 'home' only poured fire into the flames of your already aching heart, as you scream about only wishing to be loved by even a fraction of the compassion Bruce feels for all his other children was all you needed to feel happy in life. It was enough to leave Jason breathless, muddled with emotions he couldn't quite grasp.

As you drown in a seamless fit of arguing and sobbing into the arms of your brother, the manor holds a meeting regarding your sudden disappearance. Bruce is promptly disappointed at Jason's absence; the others are just as intrigued with Dick and Damian's urgency to find you. Yet all are unbeknownst to your plans of escape, and most especially to a certain Kryptonian's scheme to have you in his arms all for himself.

Family Dinner (A&A): Silly, old you can't seem to stomach the fact that they're all looking at you now at the elongated table when months ago you were a mere ghost in their eyes whilst they chatter happily amongst each other. Unfamiliar with how communicating with a family who estranged you works; you end up having a panic attack in the middle of dinner when Damian attempted to hug you.

To Love and To Cherish (Random): Bruce Wayne loves his spouse and everything about them. They're everything desirable in his eyes and he couldn't help the urges that keeps him running back to you every time he patrols to ensure not only the safety of Gotham, but for the sake of his growing plans to fully integrate you as a full-time house spouse. The problem Bruce faces, though, is that he's not actually married to you, yet, and you're unaware of his prying eyes on your form as you live alone in your shabby apartment.

Flowers on My Grave (A&A, Hanahaki AU): Flowers don't only bloom inside your lungs when you're rejected by someone you love romantically, they can also manifest through platonic love unrequited. Vomiting a bouquet of yellow carnations and an arraw of purple and blue hyacinths, you set to sever the bond of love you once felt for them once and for all.

Cold House, Lone Spouse (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): You come home from Clark's farm to sleep in your own room to make sure nobody suspects a thing; expecting to power through the pain of loneliness in your room. But you end up waking up to Bruce's body pressed against your back and his arms caging you, unrelenting in its pursuit to make sure you never seek out another man's hold again.

Once Your Son, Always Your Son (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): Your routine with your beloved son, Jon, leaves nothing else to be desired as you set about your usual nightly schedule of helping him clean up, fix his bed, and read him bedtime stories— something you've grown accustomed to love naturally as being a parent does. But when Damian comes to visit you once Jon falls asleep, he enviously demands you do the same to him and to return to the manor where a better family is waiting for you.

The Confrontation (Loving Family Unpalatable Desire): Clark's night with you always ends up with him hovering above your body, kissing all the exposed parts of your skin, and worshipping your body which lays upon his bed every night. It's the perfect fantasy, yet it's promptly shattered when he sees the familiar silhouette of his comrade, clad in all black, demanding that Clark returns his spouse back in his arms; as if he's not the very same man who left you all alone that night at the gala, available for taking.

A Father's Strange Case of Gift Giving (A&A): To make it up to you, Bruce tries to spoil you rotten with a bottomless allowance and unrestricted access to all his credit cards. Even a mansion built on your name is built as one of the family's vacation houses. One unsettling fact, though, is Bruce's proficiency of capturing every detail of all things you prefer in such a short span of time after kidnapping you. (i.e. You're unaware of the cameras planted in every corner of your room trying to capture the things that makes you smile).

Mind Games and Mind Control (Brutus): What if it were The Riddler and Scarecrow who saved you from nearly dying? With your emotional reception, and both their wits, you end up stirring more trouble for Gotham's vigilantes. But during times where you've nothing to do but watch as both villains enact upon their master plans, itching to satisfy the ache of bloodlust coursing through your veins, you start to notice the abrupt bouts of energy they exert upon tormenting whoever stares at you (sitting comfortably on a cushioned couch, treated like royalty no less) or talks behind your back— crazed for your words of approval and praise as if it's not them who are capable enough of controlling you instead.

The Powered, and the Powerless (Random, Romantic Batfam): During the night, they are your city's saviors, the light that shines bright on darkness, the hope that never wavers through moments of fear. Daytime, meanwhile, they're portrayed as a rich, socialite family who donate millions on charity and everything that promotes good costs. Power comes to them naturally, and praise is served to most of them in a silver platter for all their hard work. You can even say their status is akin to that of Gods, except you don't think of them the same way others do; choosing to utilize your immense knowledge of internet safety to publish articles and conspiracies pertaining to each member of the Wayne family through anonymous forums. Yet all this results in their interest in your secret identity.

Fate Unwanted (Random, Soulmate AU): You're a simple person living on the outskirts of an unnamed town on the boundaries of Gotham. Curious on why your parents are protective of you, forcing you to live with countless of strick rules written boldly on paper and plastered on the front of your refrigerator, and why you just can't seem to produce or perceive any soulmate bond; you set out on a mission to find the mysteries of your unmarked soul. Little did you know that the strangers you stumble upon who chose to assist you on your journey, all from every city and every known state, have found their soulmate that they're unwilling to share.

[2tarbell]

can i just say that i love you?! you write trailerpark!rafe so well and i’ve waited so long to find a writer that created a work solely based on him! my obsession with trailerpark!rafe literally came from that short film drew did with rudy 😭😭

anyways i saw that you were looking for blurb ideas and honestly i can’t get trailerpark!rafe and reader doing cute domestic things together like going to the grocery store, washing the truck together, and maybe us seeing how rafe asked reader to move in with him and seeing his reaction to her adding her sweet touches to the place and making the trailer more homey for them.

thank u my love :C ur so sweet and i appreciate the message!!!! wrote something a little small just detailing rafe’s feelings about domestic stuff 💝 ENJOY!!!!

TRAILERPARK!RAFE who loves how reader has become his life.

he had watched her grow up beside him, neither family abundantly rich. but her chalk drawings of butterflies and hearts stretched along the path of her family home — the colors and softness always enraptured rafe, as well as the furrow of her brow when she yelled at him for killing some little bug. then she turned from a little girl with dirt on her cheeks into a mature woman with curves and determination she definitely didn’t have before.

he was sixteen when he fell in with love her, with her soul.

so he asked her to move in with him on their six month anniversary, all bashful and unsure in the way only she could make him. he was nervous about asking her to just come over, yet alone move in with him in such a shitty little trailer; void of decoration and love. he had always wanted to be more for her, for them. this precious woman that wormed her way into his heart since the moment they met at twelve.

it was cute, the way he was avoiding looking as he drove. she could see his ears turning a bit red, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. he’d been on edge the entire evening — shifty eyes and shaky hands so unlike the man she had come to know and love so dearly.

it all made sense when he spoke lowly, eyes still on the road ahead:

“so, uh... whaddaya— ahem… was thinkin’ ‘bout you maybe — uh — movin’ in?”

“you— you want me to?”

rafe couldn’t imagine anything better. so he nodded. and so did she.

the drive continued with her head on his shoulder, both biting back cheesy smiles at the next step they’d decided to take. rafe brought her hand to lips, pressing a long kiss to her knuckles — his fears of being not enough were washed away as his place eventually became their place.

there she was that very weekend, all tender and sweet and telling him where to put her stuff amongst his. he sees her in the furniture they picked, the flowers on the kitchen table, the pictures of them on the walls, in the very foundation of the trailer.

(then of course they fucked on every surface available, ‘christening’ the space.)

her hands soothing and gentle on his arms when he comes home to her. rafe never was good at being gentle like she is — he thinks loveliness lives in her bones as she kisses his cheek and mumbles something about dinner that she made him.

but it was the first night after they moved in together, he saw her in the bathroom preparing for bed and felt all air leave him. he can’t imagine a life without her in it. doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. the thought of a place without her burns in his mind — searing and almost painful. he can’t believe there was a time when she wasn’t his.

[jjenthusee]

Aches

Pairing: jason todd x reader

A/N: i burnt my arm making baked potatoes and i wanted to write a drabble on that lol ENJOY :) comment ur thoughts

Summary: Nothing gets past Jason and you don’t mind a caring man at your side. You don’t know how baked potatoes led to an intimate conversation between you two, but anything for the man willing to drop everything for you.

Tags: potato troubles, fluff, hurt/comfort if u squint, soft jason, trigger warning: slight description of burns

Word Count: 1.4k

You stared wordlessly at the burn, oven mitts still in your hands.

You had seared two areas of your arm. It hadn’t hurt when you had accidentally touched the edges of the hot oven, but looking at it made your face scrunch.

The pain had only started once you looked at the damage. Two thin lines of seared skin, still slightly pink from the sudden heat.

Great.

You just wanted baked potatoes and you were going to place them on the rack, but at the cost of your lack of coordination, you grazed the oven with your arm.

The sound of water from the bathroom had shut off, Jason appearing in the corner of your eye as you stood there.

You were tired and another problem had been placed in your hands, or on your arm.

“What you cookin’ sweets—“ Jason lazily walked, trying to rub out the knots in his neck from a late-night patrol.

When you stood there, wordlessly holding oven mitts, had Jason sensed something was off.

Like the analyzer he was, his head perked up, a moment before he was assessing your entire body and kitchen as he briskly walked to you.

Despite being in his leisure clothes, he was ready for any sort of intrusion, but before he could pull out any sort of weaponry mounted to the underside of the kitchen table, did he spot the burns.

In a delicate motion, he turned your arm. You held onto the festive oven mitt as he adjusted your arm.

“Oh, sweets.” Jason softly whispered.

Judging by the preheated oven, potatoes, and the oven mitts you loosely gripped, Jason had put the pieces of events in the correct sequence.

“Lets get this cleaned up and then I can apply a cream.” Jason grabbed the mitts from your palms. “Then I’ll get you some medicine, in case it still hurts, sound okay?”

You nodded, looking down at your own mistake before you sighed.

“Yeah, thanks Jay.” You squeezed his forearm in a quiet thanks.

In a softened gaze, Jason rubbed your hand in return.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. I’m gonna grab the first aid, you wanna sit on the couch?”

You let yourself sink into the cushions as Jason cleaned up what wasn’t already placed inside the oven.

He sat in front of you, his sheer size leveling out as he sat on the floor, removing the cap off the burn cream you kept in the first aid and placing a cool towel over your arm.

“Isn’t the floor cold?” You watched Jason focus on addressing your arm, first aid kit right by his side. His eyebrows firmly in a line—his concentration contorting his face.

It made you smile.

“It’s not.” Jason intently kept his eyes down, his lashes angled to his cheek.

You raised your free arm to play with his messy hair. It had fallen onto his forehead, spread in clumps.

“You’re lying. My feet were freezing earlier.” You continued to smile as you played with his hair strands, twirling his white streak in between your fingers. “Weather is getting cold, you might have to stay over every night to keep me warm.”

Jason had been growing out his hair the longer the two of you stayed together.

Partly from a passing comment that you liked his hair long and from how he felt comfortable enough to focus on his appearance for once.

He had struggled looking in the mirror for more than a passing glance, but with every reassuring compliment, cheek kiss, and late-night holding had he started to open up to the idea of treasuring his appearance.

Maybe it wasn’t initially for himself, but you wanted to lift him in the ways he had always worshipped your own skin, your heart—your entire self.

Jason’s chuckle interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes lost on the smile lines appearing on the edges of his mouth.

Your heart fluttered at the thought of how they would age as he did. How you can make him laugh and smile to make deeper lines.

You hand slowly drifted down to his eyebrow, to his cheeks, down to small scars littering his face.

Rubbing each blurred skin, sealing the past in a lightened patch.

Your hand drifted again.

Jason flinched at the feel of your subtle fingers at the edges of the misshapen “J” that littered his face.

Your eyes widen at the realization of your thoughtless movements.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ You pulled your hand away.

“No, it’s—it’s fine. Really.” Jason clasped onto your fleeing hand with his own. Your cluster of hands hanging in the air.

In one breath, Jason slowly moved your hand back to his cheek. His eyes closing just before your finger touched back onto his scar—like he was bracing for the same sting he felt all those years ago.

You sadly watched the vulnerability of the man sitting on the floor in front of you. His large hands, gracefully aiding you to touch a deepened hurt that goes past the barriers of his skin.

As soon as he let out the breath he was holding, did you move your fingers again.

The trust he had in you, to touch him so casually made your eyes burn.

When you got hurt, to the smallest of cuts, he was always adamant in first aid, taking all precautions to make sure you were fine.

It worried you how he needed to make sure he checked all the boxes before he could be rest assured, so he didn’t toss and turn as much as he usually did.

You expected as much for tonight, knowing deep in your bones he was going to come back tonight after patrol to check up on you.

But what really made your heart sting was the sloppy care he gave himself. Not giving himself the time to heal in the ways he deserved.

You leaned forward, not caring about interrupting Jason’s work, before you rested your forehead on his hair.

You could smell his shampoo as you rested your eyes, breathing as you cradled his face and leaned your head.

Curling over him like a shield.

“Sweets, it’s okay.” Jason mumbled into your shirt. Despite his reassurances, he had leaned into your warmth, resting his face into the center of your heartbeat, counting each pulse.

“I know, I just…get sad. Not at you, but at the fact I want to grab onto every single being who made you hurt and hurl them into the sketchy dumpster outside.” You rubbed your head against his, tickling your face with Jason’s hair.

“If that’s how you feel sad, I don’t wanna see you angry.” Jason rested his hand onto your waist, rubbing circles into your side.

His words were playful, but you could hear the slight strain as he listened to your protective words.

You smiled to the feel of his hand and the bundle of limbs you created with the gentle man sitting on your cold floor.

“Gotham wouldn’t be able to rest until I’m done.” You kissed Jason’s head, still gently soothing the ache of his scar with your words and hand. As he subtly shook under your touch.

A moment of silence before you felt his warm breath on your chest.

“And I’ll be right next to you.” Jason barely whispered, his grip tightening on you. Your shirt wrinkling at the desperation.

You held Jason as he tried to hide in your embrace, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at your words—the angry protectiveness you held over him.

As you rubbed soothing circles on Jason’s back, you lifted you head at the realization that the oven was still on.

“Jay, I forgot to set the timer.” You gazed at the oven.

Jason lifted his head to look up at you.

“My potatoes.” You quietly murmured. “I didn’t get battle scars for me to not get a single cooked potato.”

Jason smiled as he calmed, slightly pulling out of your embrace while letting all his emotional tension slowly wisp away at your potato conflict.

“It hasn’t been that long. Probably still needs a couple more minutes.” Jason lifted himself to kiss your cheek, to soothe your potato burdens. “I still have to wrap this, so it should be ready by then.”

You sighed into Jason’s hair again. His messy stands moving at your breath.

“I’m going to lie to Roy that I fought off an intruder and saved us both.” You laid your head on top of Jason’s as you gazed at the enemy, your oven.

“And you got a burn mark?” Jason chuckled.

“Yes, a miscalculated punch.” You sighed deeply again.

“Whatever you say sweets.” Jason kissed the top of the bandages, rubbing your skin around them and then leaving a final kiss on your forehead. “Let me get your potatoes.”

[0-n-1-x]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a Damian x reader? But u can totally ignore this if u want🧡

Damian and reader are best friends, they go to the same school, and she (or they) is very clingy. And one day she gets a really bad headache during school and sort of begins rubbing and resting her head against his shoulder for comfort. She sort of half expects him to push or ask her to get off but he surprisingly doesn't. He's like super worried for her bc she can hardly pay attention and is really sluggish idk

Have a nice day! 🧡

link to my masterlist <33

You and Damian had been best friends for as long as you could remember, ever since that fateful day he transferred into your school. Despite his rough edges and serious demeanor, you’d always found a way to break through his stoic exterior, much to the confusion of everyone around you. It wasn’t uncommon to see you clinging to Damian’s arm between classes, chatting away while he listened with a slight smile or an exasperated sigh.

Today, though, something felt off.

Your head had been pounding since the morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, it was almost unbearable. You barely managed to make it to the cafeteria, your usually energetic self reduced to sluggish movements and a throbbing headache that seemed to grow worse with every step.

“Are you okay?” Damian asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed your unusually slow pace.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to wave off his worry. But even you could tell that your attempt at reassurance was half-hearted at best.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced. He walked beside you, watching as you winced at the bright lights and the noise of the bustling cafeteria. When you finally sat down, you immediately rested your head against the cool surface of the table, hoping it would provide some relief.

“Y/N,” Damian’s voice was soft but insistent. “You don’t look fine.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at him, your vision blurring for a moment. “It’s just a headache. I’ll be okay.”

But as the lunch period went on, it became clear that you weren’t okay. The headache only worsened, and soon you found yourself leaning against Damian for support. You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in an attempt to block out the overwhelming stimuli around you.

Damian stiffened at the sudden contact, his body going rigid as you pressed against him. You half expected him to gently push you away, maybe make a sarcastic comment about you being overly clingy as usual. But to your surprise, he didn’t.

Instead, Damian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he turned his attention fully to you. “You should go to the nurse,” he whispered, his voice laced with worry.

You shook your head weakly, not wanting to move from your spot. “Just let me stay like this for a bit,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Damian’s expression softened, and he nodded, letting you rest against him without protest. His usual cool demeanor seemed to melt away as he watched you, his eyes filled with concern.

As the minutes passed, Damian gently rubbed your arm, a small, comforting gesture that helped ease some of the tension in your body. He kept a watchful eye on you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible despite the situation.

“Y/N,” he said quietly after a while, “If you’re not feeling better soon, I’m taking you to the nurse.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, simply nodding in agreement. You were grateful for his presence, the steady warmth of his body against yours providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.

For the rest of the lunch period, Damian stayed by your side, his protective nature shining through as he made sure you had everything you needed. When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, he helped you gather your things and walked with you to your next class.

“You should go home and rest,” Damian insisted as you reached the classroom. “I’ll tell the teacher you’re not feeling well.”

You looked up at him, touched by his concern. “Thank you, Damian,” you murmured, managing a small smile despite the pain.

He gave you a rare, genuine smile in return, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You don’t need to thank me. I just want you to feel better.”

And with that, Damian led you to the nurse’s office, his hand never leaving yours as he made sure you were taken care of. Despite his usual aloofness, it was clear that when it came to you, Damian was willing to drop his guard and show just how much he cared.

[rosyhoneydew]

A quick love letter to my Bucktommy family in the form of a fix-it <3

Bucktommy | fix-it | Teen | 1141 words | warnings: this is angsty at the start and tiptoes toward addressing biphobia so please care for yourself and don't read if that will exacerbate your hurt.

They're three beers deep when the doorbell rings again.

It's been a fucking night. He hadn't really had much to say to Eddie when he got there, thankfully he hadn't had to, especially considering Eddie was clearly in the midst of his own kind of night. It feels better, not being alone, at least. But the alcohol mixes with his head and twists the moment in his apartment further. How come every time I want to move forward I get pushed back?

He's not even paying attention when Eddie goes up to get the door, just fiddles with the bottle in his hand more, peeling the label into tiny pieces and laying them on Eddie's coffee table for him to pick up later.

"Shit-" Eddie stumbles as he makes his way. And then Buck can feel a little breeze as he goes to tell whoever it is that this isn't a good time.

"Oh thank god-" Buck freezes, determined not to turn around. "I wasn't sure you'd be home but I think I fucked up."

That's Tommy.

"I panicked a little. Evan asked me to move in and I think I freaked out."

"Uhh-" Eddie adds.

"We just got done talking about my ex who I had to end an engagement with and it just- it felt like he was trying to make up for his own freak out about it and-" Buck hears him take a deep breath, "I didn't want to force him into doing something he didn't really want to do, you know? He- he should get to make sure that's what he really wants." He takes another breath. "Are you not wearing pants?"

"Umm-"

Buck's heart rate had steadily ramped up hearing Tommy speak, but it's when he stops that Buck feels tears prickle at his eyes. He whips around then, still nestled into Eddie's couch, betrayal in his voice when he speaks.

"I did!" and shit. He didn't really mean to shout that.

"I'm gonna..." Eddie trails off as he heads into his bedroom.

"Why do you think I didn't make sure that's what I wanted?" he demands. He hadn't thought he'd be so angry, but this felt like something to him, and Tommy's running. Again. "Because that girl hit on me at the restaurant?"

Tommy looks shell-shocked. Like he's still grasping the fact that Buck is here, so Buck just keeps talking.

"Or because I haven't dated a man before? So I must not know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Buck-"

"Don't call me that."

"Evan," Tommy steps a little closer, and Buck leans toward the cushions, petty, but feeling raw still. "That is not why."

Buck levels him with a look.

"Okay, what you said is fair enough," he relents. "I didn't mean to make it seem like you couldn't make your own decisions about this."

"What did you mean?"

Tommy looks away for a moment, a flicker of pain on his face.

"I meant... what I said," he lands on. "You would break my heart, Evan."

"You don't know that." The tears finally crest over his lower lids and make their way to his mouth. "You can't just give up every time you're scared that I'm going to leave you, Tommy. It's not fair, you're not even giving me the chance to stay."

Tommy's lip wobbles a little now too, but he stays and listens.

"I wanted to stay, I wanted you to stay. With me. Permanently. Why would you think I would leave you?"

He cries now, and Buck hasn't ever seen him cry.

"I don't know," he gets out, choked and soft. "I see you, sometimes. With the 118 and everyone's families and I... I don't feel like I fit, Evan. I don't get how I fit into that."

"You fit into it because you're my boyfriend. My partner."

"I am?" he asks, treading closer ever slightly to the couch.

This time Buck leans his way. He sets his bottle down and looks down at his hands.

"Did you mean what you told Eddie? You fucked up? Because I fucked up, once, at the beginning of us, and you gave me that second chance and I'm so glad you did, Tommy, because these last few months have been better than I could've hoped. I don't want to let that go because of this so... yeah you can be, if you want."

Tommy rushes to the couch, he sits as close as he can get and grabs Buck's hands firmly. Warm and sure.

"I want that. I want us again. Please."

"You can have it," Buck whispers, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder. He squeezes Tommy's hands. "Just don't leave again, please."

"I won't, I won't."

Then there's a kiss at the crown of his head, and Tommy's other hand rubs soft circles over his back. He murmurs sweet nothings in Buck's ear all the while.

I'm sorry. I'm glad you were here. I missed you as soon as I walked out the door. I'm staying. I'm staying. I'm staying.

They sit like that for a while until a throat clearing from the hallway has them both lifting their heads to find Eddie, fully-clothed.

"What were you guys doing before I got here, by the way?" Tommy asks, humor back in his voice.

"Well, I was drinking my sorrows away. I don't know what Tom Cruise was doing."

"Ha ha," Eddie says, making his way to the couch, no qualms about forcing them to scooch over to make room. "We can talk about my shit tomorrow. You guys worked it out I guess?"

Buck looks up at Tommy, smiles, and kisses him with a loud peck just to make Eddie huff and roll his eyes.

"Yeah," Tommy says, looking at ease. "Although..." he starts.

Buck turns to him, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know that moving into your place is going to work," Tommy admits.

Buck sits up a little, mouth just opening to speak when Tommy cuts him off.

"I want to live with you, Evan, but your place is barely big enough for one person, so maybe we can workshop location, yeah?" he smiles a crinkly smile, the kind that always lets Buck know he's feeling fond, feeling secure.

It's Buck's turn to huff now. "It gets good light," he grumbles.

Tommy kisses his temple again, Buck gets the distinct feeling that he will be getting kissed quite a bit in the near future, and he chances a quick look at Eddie to see if they're being annoying.

Instead, he sees Eddie smiling too, he's looking on like he's proud and it makes Buck want to tear up again. Eddie gives him a nod and Buck nods back.

A weight lifts off his shoulders then. In the arms of the man he's growing to love and accepted by his family.

~~~~

I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who read, commented, shared my fics, sent me nice messages about my writing for these two, and to everyone who created content for them while they were canon. I'm thankful for every minute of it :)