#oh yeah and I assembled a night stand

[bottom-lexa]

I know I said I’d post the first chapter of the Commander’s Pet au tonight. But it’s been a long af day, it’s 3;40am, and I have football in the morning. I really wanted to post it tonight but 😔

We have construction going on in the house and had to pick up some more things to be fitted in + furniture. And as you might imagine, everything we needed wasn’t in stock at one location. So we basically drove around all over town, picking up things from four different places. And then loading and unloading around 120kg worth of things into a van. It’s been A Day.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Bucktommy drunken confessions🤭🤭

Please pick up your boyfriend, Howie texts just after 2 a.m. 

Evan used his day off to help his brother-in-law assemble some furniture for Jee-Yun's new nursery – apparently, she’s outgrown her crib and is in dire need of some “big girl” room. For some reason, their DIY afternoon ended up turning into a boozy evening, and with Maddie on a shift and Howie obviously buzzed, it’s probably best to keep Evan from getting in his car. Luckily Jee-Yun is sleeping at Hen and Karen's tonight, because when Tommy arrives, her bed looks half-finished. The two men, on the other hand, look all the more done. 

Howie's hair is tousled as if Jee-Yun has driven her Barbie truck through it, but he’s tipsy at most – Tommy knows that man can drink. Evan, however… well. Evan presents a lot of his chest; his shirt is half unbuttoned like in a 70s porn – it’s a nasty comparison, but Tommy likes the view. 

“Here comes my boyfriend,” Evan croons, his cheeks flushed. 

A quick glance at the table confirms that the men have switched from beer to tequila. Tommy heaves a sigh. Evan’s not on shift tomorrow, but he’s also not used to Tequila, Tommy knows that from experience. He will have to stay with him tonight - which isn't a bad thing, of course, but there are better ways to spend your time than listen to your loved ones vomit.  

“Come on,” he says, ”I'll put you to bed.”

“Awesome, get ready for something!”

“Ew, I don't want to hear that,” Howie says, but Tommy just grins. “Don't worry, I don't think that's going to work today.”

“I don't want to hear that either!”

Tommy has a hard time getting Evan into the car and half expects him to fall asleep after he's forced him into the seatbelt. This man can sleep anywhere and in the most uncomfortable positions, and he always looks incredibly adorable. Even drunk, like now. But he doesn't fall asleep. He looks at Tommy with that amorous gaze he usually gives after other activities, and out of the blue, he goes, “Did you know that koalas are much lazier than sloths? They sleep almost 20 hours a day!”

Tommy threads his way into traffic, which is never really light even at night in L.A., replying, “No, Evan.”

“They eat eucalyptus...”

“I knew that,” Tommy interjects.

“Yeah of course, you’re clever,” he praises. “But koalas are the only mammals that can live off eucalyptus alone, it's poisonous to other animals.”

“Fascinating.”

It's not so much these random facts about koalas that he finds fascinating. It's just Evan, sitting there with that slightly glazed look on his face, completely relaxed. Knowing that he creates this relaxed atmosphere for this man, that he’s the one where he can be himself and let go… that’s a valuable treasure.

Evan goes on babbling for another fifteen minutes, including a dozen thank you’s for picking him up, and Tommy just enjoys his voice like a pleasant background noise. Every now and then he throws in something that always makes Evan's eyes light up. They’re almost to the loft when Evan says, “I love you,” in such a matter-of-fact tone, it makes Tommy almost wrench the steering wheel.

“That's lovely,” he answers, and he means it, but all he can think is tell me again when you're sober. Evan is too drunk to really understand what he has just said. It's something Tommy’s been dying to hear, something he was too afraid to say himself. 

They somehow make it into the elevator, but as they stand in front of Evan's door, Tommy has to unlock it. Evan trips over his own feet, he almost crashes into the door. Tommy just shakes his head. His back will regret it in the morning, but he shoulders Evan without further ado. His boyfriend squeals with delight, even when he puts him down on the couch - there's no way he'll make it up the stairs with the man on his shoulders, and the bathroom is down here anyway.

“Oh man, I'm d-dizzy,” Evan sighs.

“I'm sure you are. Lie down, I'll get you a blanket.”

Tommy wants to get up, but Evan holds him back.

“Wait,” he says, suddenly with as much seriousness as a drunk can muster, “you didn't say it back.”

“What?”

Tommy thought he’d already forgotten, but this is Evan, he should have known better.

“I said I love you, but you didn't say anything, so maybe you don't love me, that's fine, I guess,” Evan rambles. “Anyway, I'm glad I said it, because it's true.”

Tommy couldn't even resist those Bambi eyes if the man asked him to run into a burning building without any protection. It's unreasonable and irrational, but he's head over heels for Evan, and he knows it. And then, suddenly, there's nothing holding him back, even if he only says it because he can convince himself that his boyfriend will forget about it in a few hours. 

“I love you too, Evan.”

“Oh my God, really?”

Evan jumps up from the couch with a vigor as if he hadn't just said he was dizzy, and he sprints - not very elegantly - into the kitchen. He’s back in the blink of an eye, after pulling open a drawer and rummaging around in it. He pulls Tommy onto the couch, practically sits in his lap, looks at him with those doe eyes and says in a solemn tone, “Give me your hand.”

“Evan...”

“Give me your hand!”

Tommy’s learned early on that it's easier to give in to this whirlwind of a man, so he holds out his hand. Evan pushes something on Tommy's ring finger, having to do so three times before he finally hits. 

“What are you doing?”

Tommy squints at his hand. It looks like ... a keyring, without a key of course; Evan has a junk drawer in the kitchen where he keeps things like that. 

“It's a promise,” says Evan. “One d-day, Thomas Kinard, I will marry you. Just don't forget that!”

Tommy grabs the ring and replies dryly, “Don't worry, I won’t. It's so tight, I don't think I'll be able to get it off.”

“Got a ring cutter for that.”

He smirks, and Tommy can't help his lips to curl into a fond smile. He’s already aware of the ring cutter, even if he was surprised the first time he found it. 

“Main thing is for you to say you'll marry me,” Evan says with his Bambi eyes, “one day, with a real ring. In a sh... a tchu... well, a church.”

He looks like a man proud he got that one word out right, but at the same time, he looks as serious as a drunkard can be. It doesn’t seem like something he’ll actually have forgotten in a couple of hours, rather like it’s been on his heart for a long time. It's a big deal, and Tommy doesn't want to answer lightly just to appease him. His own heart has long been far from casual, concerning Evan. 

“But,” Evan continues, waving his arms, ”if it's really too tight for you, we'd better cut the thing open quickly. I’ve seen a guy, finger swollen as big as an eggplant, couldn’t get his wedding ring off his finger.”

He struggles to get up, but this time Tommy holds him back. 

“Leave it,” he says, looking at the ring. 

It’s just a simple, brass-colored keyring, but at the same time, it’s way more. As Evan had said: it was a promise. A promise did not necessarily have to come true, but it was still something to cling to. Something to look forward to. 

“Fine, we can do it tomorrow,” Evan slurs, just before he leans against Tommy - to fall asleep on his shoulder. 

“Let's do it tomorrow. Or maybe I'll keep it,” Tommy whispers into Evan's curls. 

[fluentmoviequoter]

hi! could i make a tim bradford x shy!reader request where shy!reader is pregnant, and she decides to visit tim at the station since she’s on maternity leave. but while she’s visiting tim at the station, all of a sudden her water breaks, so her and tim both start to panic and rush to the hospital. luckily, they make it in time to the hospital, and then eventually she gives birth to a baby girl.

hopefully that makes sense!🤍

It absolutely makes sense! Thanks for the shy!reader request, I love it so much!! This could probably act as a part 2 for the firefighter fic or any of the other pregnant!reader x Tim stories, too!

Warnings: pregnancy and labor, teasing, fluff!! 2.0k+ words

Is it My Turn to Panic?

Standing in the new nursery and organizing the freshly washed baby clothes, you’re happier than you anticipated. People warned you that the last month or two of your pregnancy could be agony, always hot or tired, or worse, on bed rest. But you feel good – great, even. You know that’s because of Tim, though. He’s been by your side for every mood swing, weird craving, and uncomfortable moment. Glancing down at your stomach when you feel a kick, you think your baby is probably thinking about Tim, too.

Once the clothes are folded, you put them in the dresser Tim assembled last night while you took a hot bath. He asked you not to do anything, to take it easy, but you get bored and lonely when he’s not home. As the pile on the dresser dwindles, you sit in the rocking chair by the window, enjoying being in your home, the one you share with your husband and soon your child.

When you pick up your phone, smiling at the picture of Tim on your lock screen, you get an idea.

“Want to visit your dad?” you whisper, rubbing your hand over your bump.

You laugh when you feel another kick as you rise out of the rocking chair. Your phone rings, and you pause, answering it quickly.

“Hello,” you greet.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

You’re glad Tim can’t see you because you duck your chin shyly even though he’s miles away.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I was putting the clothes away,” you answer softly.

Tim chuckles before reminding you, “I said I’d do that.”

“I got bored.”

“And lonely?”

You huff, a half-sigh, half-whine that makes Tim know he’s right.

“How are the contractions?”

“They’re okay.”

As you say it, another contraction hits, and you slide your hand under your bump as it passes.

“Yeah, they sound okay,” Tim says.

“’S just Braxton Hicks, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I know you will be. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You don’t say anything, walking into your bedroom to get shoes. Tim sighs before telling you he has to go.

“I love you,” you say, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you gather your things.

“I love you, both of you,” Tim replies. “I’ll see you tonight.”

The call ends, and you put your phone in your bag before locking the front door behind you. You miss Tim, and he’s right, you’re bored and lonely, so you’re going to visit him. He has been upset that he’s missing so much of your pregnancy and when the contractions started a few weeks ago. So, you’re doing it for him, too.

Once you’re in the car, another contraction seizes you, and you furrow your brows in pain. It’s the most intense you’ve had, but you soon forget about it. The doctor assured you everything was okay, and your baby was healthy at your last visit, that the contractions would continue until you went into labor and would just be an inconvenience.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford!” Wade yells. He turns to you and smiles, lowering his voice to ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Big. Tired,” you answer quietly.

Wade laughs and pats your shoulder before stepping away while Tim hugs you. You wrap your arms around him, smiling against his chest as your baby kicks excitedly.

“Someone missed you,” you mumble.

“I know you did.”

You push your face further into Tim’s uniform before he eases your shoulders back gently.

“Been kicking like that all day?” he asks, smoothing his hand over your cheek.

Humming, you don’t notice Tim looking down at you.

“Soccer player,” he adds softly.

“Of course you’d pick a unisex sport.”

Tim smiles as you raise your head to look at him. “You’re the one who wanted to be surprised by the gender.”

“So did you!”

Tim drops his chin as he laughs, and you shake your head before backing away from him.

“No,” he grumbles, grabbing your hand and pulling you to his side. “Are you here for a while?”

“Sure,” you answer, moving your free hand to hold Tim’s wrist. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. That’s why I keep calling.”

“Is this the new normal until we have a baby at home?”

“It is.”

Tim leads you into his office and closes the door, and when his hands land on your hips, you’re not sure if you like the privacy or wish you were back outside where he wouldn’t engage in such affection.

“Are you…” Tim begins, trailing off when you lean against the corner of his desk, gripping the edge in pain.

Tim’s hands hover beside you, watching you until you relax, slumping forward slightly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asks softly.

Nodding, you say, “They’re going to get worse the closer I get.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim murmurs, cupping your face as he kisses your forehead. “Do you need anything?”

Your shoulders move with a silent chuckle, and Tim steps back, offering a hand. Every time you leave him to use the restroom, Tim acts like it’s some form of treachery, alternating between blaming you and the baby pushing on your bladder.

“I won’t miss this part,” he says as you enter the hallway.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim says your name, cracking the door open.

“Tim,” you reply, unsure what else to say.

The door squeaks as it opens, closing softly as Tim’s footsteps echo in the empty stalls. When you see his feet stop in front of the door you’re behind, you sigh.

“Let me in,” he demands.

Opening the door, you wipe your hands on your pants.

“What happened?”

Tim takes your face in his hands, searching your face and then your navel for any sign of a problem.

“My water just broke,” you whisper.

While you clench your jaw against another contraction, Tim’s eyes widen as he realizes what this means. He takes both of your hands, walking backward as he leads you out of the stall. Laying an arm around your shoulders, he takes you to his office to grab his wallet. You wait in the doorway, and Tim looks around frantically.

“Tim, calm down, handsome,” you say. “I’m not having this baby now, just take a breath.”

Shaking his head, Tim finds his wallet on the floor and squats to get it, arguing, “I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“I’m right behind you,” you whisper. “We’ll take turns. Can I panic now?”

Tim takes your purse, putting it over his shoulder as he leads you back toward the bullpen.

“Bradford,” Smitty says, “I have a question.”

“Ask someone else,��� Bradford replies, his voice strained as you stop suddenly.

“Are you in labor?” Wade asks, rushing out of his office.

Tim nods, holding both of your shoulders as he stands before you.

“Do you need an ambulance?”

You shake your head, sniffing softly before nodding at Tim. Wade goes to the door, holding it open and yelling for people to get out of the way as Tim leads you to his truck.

“Can- I’m going to pick you up,” Tim says.

“No,” you argue.

“No for a real reason or because you’re still really shy?”

You don’t answer, and Tim chuckles as he lifts you into the passenger seat. You’re glad to see him calm down briefly, even at your expense.

“Tim!” Angela calls, walking out of the station. “Care for an escort?”

You shake your head vehemently, but Tim agrees, climbing into the driver’s seat as Angela pulls a shop out to drive before him.

“This is ridiculous, Tim,” you whine.

“Hey, you’re having my baby, we’re pulling out all the stops,” he replies.

When you look over at him, his jaw is tight, and his knuckles are white from his grip on the steering wheel. You want to say something but then decide not to distract him.

“Did you bring the hospital bag?” Tim asks suddenly.

“No,” you say quickly, breathing through a sudden contraction.

“Where is it? Still in the closet at home? We don’t have time to go get it, but-“

“Tim, Angela or someone can get it later,” you remind him. “You really need to calm down. We’re going to be fine.”

Tim nods, but his demeanor doesn’t change, even as he ignores your protest and carries you inside to meet the wheelchair.

“Contractions are nothing compared to that,” Angela muses, standing beside you while Tim negotiates to get you a private room.

“I thought he was going to need the hospital more than me.”

“It gets better after the first kid.”

“I can’t survive this again,” you mumble, spinning your wedding ring on your finger.

“I’m going to go get your stuff, so he doesn’t yell at me again,” Angela adds. “But I’ll be right back. Try not to let him get away with anything, okay?”

“Tim,” you say, and he immediately turns around, his shoulders dropping when he sees your smile.

“I’d apologize,” he begins, squatting to look in your eyes, “but I’m not really sorry.”

“Rarely are.”

“You’re getting a private room in just a few minutes.” Tim squeezes your knee as he says, “We got this. You said so, and you’re always right.”

You close your eyes, and Tim isn’t sure if it’s because of him or his baby.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, you’re alright,” Tim soothes, brushing your hair off your forehead. “You can do this.”

You shake your head, your throat tight, and tears brimming in your eyes.

“I thought I was the only one allowed to panic,” Tim teases.

“It’s my turn,” you whimper.

“Alright, Bradfords, it’s time to push,” your doctor says kindly.

Tim offers his hand, and you take it, gripping the bedrail on the other side. This is the first time in your relationship that you haven’t considered getting shy; the intensity of the contractions, the focus it takes to have a baby, and the number of people in your room distract you.

“One more,” the doctor urges. “You’re almost there.”

Tim lays his hand on your shoulder, uncaring that you’re stronger than you look, and his hand is bending at the pressure of your grip. The moment you relax, hearing the hospital room fill with healthy cries, you look over at him.

Tim is already smiling at you, his eyes glassy as he turns to watch the doctor. Several nurses help you move, adjusting the bed and prepping you quickly. When you take your baby into your arms, you whisper a hello, looking over at Tim as he stands beside you.

“It’s a girl, healthy and happy,” the doctor says quietly, smiling at you and Tim before exiting the room.

A nurse takes her away from you, promising to bring her right back. When you’re alone in the room, you look at Tim and are surprised to see tears streaming down his face.

“Tim?”

He smiles, laughing as he bends over the bed to hug you. “We have a daughter,” he says against your shoulder.

“Move,” you demand before sliding over in the bed and welcoming him to your side.

His arm wraps over your shoulder, and you kiss his hand before the nurse returns, giving Tim a turn to hold his daughter.

You somehow fall more in love with Tim when you see him: calloused hands holding a tiny baby against his chest as he smiles through the tears, whispering about how much he loves her.

“There’s an Angela Lopez here to see you,” someone says at the door.

Tim turns toward you, kissing your forehead and his new daughter’s before going out to get Angela. She’s quiet when she enters, pouting at the sight of you.

“She looks like Tim,” she coos, extending a finger as she pats your shoulder.

“Thank you for everything,” you tell her, moving one arm to give her half a hug.

“You really think she looks like me?” Tim asks, setting your bag in the corner.

“Absolutely,” you and Angela say together.

“I guess we’ll have to try again then,” Tim sighs.

“Why?” you inquire.

“I wanted a mini-you, someone else to make shy,” he answers with a smile.

His smile grows when you and your daughter tuck your chins, almost in sync.

“Or maybe not,” Angela says.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Tim adds, sitting beside you again as you look at your daughter together.

“What’s her name?” Angela asks, and you and Tim look at each other with wide eyes.

“I knew we were forgetting something.”

[agaypanic]

Regina's Barbie Part 2

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Summary: After giving you a makeover, Regina takes you to a party. She hates the attention you’re getting and decides to make it clear that you’re not available.

A/N: sorry for not posting in a million years (4 days). my first regina fic got a lot of love and some people wanted a part 2, so here it is!

***

You had been to a few high school parties in your life, but you had never been to one thrown by one of the most popular kids in school. So you weren’t too surprised to see everyone throwing you looks when you walked in, especially when Regina George was clinging to your arm to make sure you didn’t stray too far from her. You may have been dressed in the girl’s clothes with stellar makeup, but everyone could tell you were an outsider.

“Relax,” Regina whispered in your ear, and you had to keep yourself from shuddering at the chill that ran down your spine. 

She pulled you over to a counter that was filled with different drinks, figuring you wouldn’t be able to stand this party sober any longer. You didn’t ask Regina what she had put in the cup she handed to you; you were too busy gulping the strong liquid down.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right back,” Regina said, seemingly distracted as she looked across the room in disgust. “I think Gretchen’s trying to hook up with Jason, that skeez!” 

Then you were on your own. It pissed you off a bit, Regina dragging you to this party just to leave you alone. But you decided to brush it off, pouring yourself another drink and gravitating towards a wall. Soon enough, she’d be back for you, and you could get through this night.

“Hey there!” Some guy appeared next to you, making you flinch in surprise. You recognized him from hallways and assemblies but didn’t know his name. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new or something?”

“Nope.” You laugh, putting the cup to your lips as you thought of something else to say. “I usually don’t have time for parties, but a friend wanted me to come.”

“Well, whoever your friend is, I’ll have to thank them.” Anyone else in your position might have giggled at the attention this objectively attractive guy was giving you. But in all honesty, you were too busy wondering when Regina was coming back to you. “Wanna dance, hottie?”

“No thanks.” You respond, eyes darting to the other side of the room, where Regina seemed to be reprimanding and chasing away the boy that Gretchen had been talking to. You wondered if she’d turn around to face you if you stared at her hard enough. “I’m kind of with someone here.” It wasn’t entirely true, at least not in the way he might’ve taken it. But you were trying your best to get this stranger to back off.

“Did this someone give you that kiss mark?” You flinched when he touched your cheek, smudging the lip print that Regina had planted on you just an hour or so before. It made you mad for some reason, and not just because this man touched your face without asking. “I bet I can give you a better one.”

“Oh my god, get away from her, Travis!” A venomous voice sounded, and you were grateful to see Regina standing next to you, giving Travis a sneer that almost made her perfect face seem not so perfect. “Can’t you see she wants nothing to do with you?”

Travis took a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. Then he squinted, eyes darting between your face and Regina’s lips before he let out a small chuckle.

“Lemme guess…” He said, turning back to you while pointing at the blonde. “Is this who you’re with?”

Regina answered before you could even think of a response.

“Yeah, she is. So go find someone else to try to blow you; she’s taken.”

With that, Travis left, cheeks reddened with slight embarrassment and drunkenness. You were still stuck on Regina’s last sentence when she grabbed your chin, turning your head to face her. She inspected your cheek, seemingly disappointed at the state her once pristine kiss mark was now in.

“You’d think that he’d see this and take a hint.” She muttered, not letting go of your face.

“And what hint would he be getting from it?” You asked, feeling shy. Even more so when Regina’s eyes started staring into yours. “Asking, you know, just out of curiosity.”

“Are you serious?” She asked, raising a brow. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you wouldn’t have to respond. But even when you were done, and your cup was thrown into a nearby trash can, Regina seemed to still be waiting for a response.

“Just a bit…” You replied.

Regina scoffed, stepping closer to you. If that was even possible. You gulped at the extremely close proximity, trying to not look down at her lips.

“Guess I have to make it clear to everyone that you’re mine.” 

Regina used both hands to cup your face and pull you towards her. You made a slight noise of surprise as she pressed her lips to yours, but you were quick to return the kiss after the initial shock wore off. People must have been watching Regina George kissing some girl they’d probably never seen before. But for a moment, it felt like only you and Regina were in this hot and crowded room. 

When she pulled back, Regina smirked at your stunned expression, clearly still reeling from the kiss.

“Everyone, including you.” She said, kissing you once more before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the living room to show you off some more.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2

[all-that-jazz-93]

It's time for another adventure of Verden, the Green Gummy Bear!

When we last left our hero, Verden had successfully helped to overthrow the Great Green Merciless Emperor, only one short day after defecting from the Emperor's Royal Guard. Now, eight years later, Verden has worked tirelessly to atone for the atrocities he helped commit in the name of the Emperor.

"A new danger now threatens to overtake us." Verden tells the assembled bears. "It could destroy the peace we've worked so hard to maintain these last eight years."

"Mecha-Bot the Destroyer has taken up residence atop the Gumball Dispenser." Verden explains. "From that vantage point, he can blast anyone and anything in our kingdom with ease."

"We will gain access to the Gumball Dispenser via the Tower of Yellow to the East. From there we will ambush Mecha-Bot and neutralize this threat to our land. It's a daunting task."

"Fortunately," the former guardsman continues. "We've got some very powerful allies on our side. This is Agent Carter, and my psychiatrist, Dr. Indigo Dragonstein."

"There's no one better to help us in our struggle."

Late that night, under cover of darkness, Verden, Agent Carter, and Dr. Dragonstein approach the Tower of Yellow, and prepare to infiltrate.

Their path is blocked by Charmander, who demands to know why they have come.

Verden puts on his best diplomatic voice, first cultivated during his time with the Emperor's Royal Guard, and refined over the years during his service as an Agent of SHIELD. "We are here to fight an enemy who threatens all of us, including the residents of the Tower of Yellow."

"Oh, you mean Mecha-Bot?" Charmander says. "Yeah, that guy's a dick. By all means, have at it."

As the sun rises over their shared kingdoms, the small team of heroes ascends the Tower of Yellow and prepares for their confrontation with the enemy.

"Mecha-Bot!" Verden calls out as Dr. Dragonstein flies him close to the automaton's perch—

"—wait," Verden says to his shrink. "If you can fly, then what was even the purpose of infiltrating the tower?"

"For the drama," Dr. Dragonstein says gleefully.

"Whatever." Verden returns his focus to the robot atop the Gumball Dispenser. "Mecha-Bot, we have come here to—"

"It's no use, Gummy Bear!" Mecha-Bot taunts him. "I shall never alight from my perch! I shall blast everything within my sight and I—waugghhhh!"

And just like that, Mecha-Bot slips from his precarious perch and crashes to the ground.

"Well that was rather anticlimactic," Agent Carter says. "I didn't even get to throw a punch."

Verden looks down upon the wreckage of the once-great robot. "We could have resolved this peacefully," he says with a sigh. ".....after Agent Carter landed a few punches, of course."

Back home, Verden lays on the psychiatrist's couch. "I don't know, Doc, it kind of feels like we didn't really do anything."

"But nevertheless, our kingdom is safe," Dr. Dragonstein reminds him. "And our people know that you made the effort to help keep it that way."

"You're right," Verden agrees, standing. "I guess the only way any of us can go is forward."

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 5

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, page 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer build ikea on the floor. they both know there’s something there, but don’t know or won’t say what it is. 

a/n: okay… can i just be honest and say idfk what i was doing but i like it??? i feel like my tone while writing this one changed a bit, but idc (i do but idk how to fix it😭) so pls enjoy I ALSO LOVE UR COMMENTS THEY KEEP ME SANE AND MAKE ME SUPER HAPPY 

————————————————————————

i went without complete dish sets and whatever else i’d written down that i needed to replace for two weeks. because unfortunately the FBI isn’t like the normal nine-to-five. i had to work through a wall of paperwork, and three cases spread across the country before i was able to step foot in ikea.

i felt bad while looking at and then eventually bringing home various things because i didn’t tell spencer i was going. but i felt like i had to go alone, because it was my apartment and all. and i didn’t want him to feel like he had to look after me.

so now i found myself sitting on the floor in my ‘lazy clothes’ which was just sweatpants and a tank-top, drinking my second glass of wine and blasting some upbeat music with a half assembled tv stand in front of me. i was flipping through the instruction book and sorting out all of the pieces i needed so that it wouldn’t fall apart either on me or in the middle of the night. my healing foot that was completely painless after the glass incident moved along with the rhythm of a song.

my trip to ikea was quite successful. i found some pretty blue dishes and really nice drinking glasses that i’d already washed and put away. they looked better than all the other dishes i’d had before, so maybe james going on a rampage was a really, really awful blessing in disguise.

i still felt bad that i didn’t bring spencer along.

halfway through taking in a mouthful of wine i was brought out of my thoughts by a series of knocks on my front door. i swallowed the wine and walked to the door. 

“hey! what’re you doing here?” i swiped a drip of wine from the corner of my smile-curled lips while looking up at spencer. 

he studied me before answering, “you weren’t answering your phone.” 

i opened my mouth as if to say ‘oh’ while glancing back to my phone as it sat on the counter. “sorry, i had the ringer off. do you wanna come in?” i asked, directing my eyes back to him. 

he nodded and i opened the door wider. his face changed as he saw the disarray of my apartment. “you went to ikea without me?” he asked.

i closed my door with a smile. “yeah, this morning. sorry i didn’t call you, i just wanted to go on my own.” i walked past where he was standing beside my dining table to turn down my music slightly prior to sitting back on the floor. “do you want some wine?” i pointed at my almost empty glass. 

he shook his head. his eyes slowly looked over all of the things on the floor, and how i had my couch pushed against a wall to make the space seem bigger, and then me. “have you been doing this all day?” 

i shook my head, finishing my wine before answering. “no. well… i got up at eight and then came home at noon, struggled to get everything inside for an hour and then went to get food with penelope which meant i got home around six, so no.” the extent of my day tumbled out of my mouth. the recitation was more for me, just backtracking over everything i did just to get the answer right for spencer. “why?” i pushed some hair from my face.

spencer looked at me with an amused smile and came to sit beside me. “you look happy.” 

my hand reached for a piece of what was the next step in the instructions on the floor beside me. i worked on the furniture while i replied to spencer. “i always get really excited when i get new furniture.” i quickly followed the rest of the instructions on the page before turning all of my attention to spencer. “what did you get up to today?” 

he shrugged. “nothing half as interesting as what you did.” his eyes looked over my face a few times. i gave him a look and silently told him to just tell me. he cleared his throat. “i went to the park and played chess, walked around to a few bookstores, drank six cups of coffee and then came here because you wouldn’t answer my calls.” his body leaned closer to mine as he talked about my unanswered calls. 

i giggled. “i already said i’m sorry for that.” my heartbeat sped up at his proximity. it was just the wine… i think. “also, six cups of coffee? on a weekend?”

spencer nodded. “i like coffee.” 

“oh, trust me, i know.” i smiled. “are you sure you don’t want some wine?” i asked, slowly getting up to refill my glass. “it’s that kind rossi broke out for us… a while ago.” i wiggled my eyebrows a little, holding the almost half full bottle up for him to see. 

he didn’t answer immediately, meaning he was contemplating, before he inevitably nodded. 

i smiled and went to grab another glass and fill it up. he joined me in the kitchen, gently taking the glass from me while i poured more for myself. “i’m glad you’re here.” i took a sip. 

“are you?” he asked. 

i nodded, bumping into his side as a way to tease but i stayed leaning into him. “yeah. your company isn’t too bad.” a smile spread over my lips that i hid with my wine glass. 

spencer huffed a short laugh. “do you want help finishing that?” he was referring to the tv stand on the floor. 

i stared at it, tilting my head this way and that before i answered, “yeah.” 

spencer nodded and we went back to sit on the floor together. with his help we got it done in less time than it took for me to construct the first half. granted, i was doing more dancing and procrastination when it was just me. 

after it was done i laid down on the floor, knees up while i stared at the ceiling. my eyes moved to look back at spencer as he smiled down at me. “what?” 

“nothing.” he didn’t look away like he usually would. he kept on staring like he did that night i was in his hotel room. 

i smiled giddily. “in case you need a picture.” i slid his phone to him in the space between us. 

he shook his head. “i have an eidetic memory.”  

i propped myself up on my elbows. “i thought that only worked with words.” 

“it’s works with images too.” spencer told me, reaching out a hand to move a piece of hair out of my face. 

i didn’t breathe while he was doing that. i felt his finger tips on my face and it made me feel warm. “how long do you remember stuff for?” 

“the specifics kind of fade after a few minutes but i still remember whatever i saw.” his voice grew softer as he spoke. 

it got quiet between us again. 

i don’t mind the silence. it leaves me with a better ability to focus on his features. like his deep eyes. his brown hair that framed his face perfectly. the blue sweater that just be new.

i looked away in a rush, trying to push the observations out of my head. 

i can’t be doing this to myself. why am i not allowing myself to feel for him?

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing i just… i have a lot on my mind.” 

“like what?” he was trying to help, so why did i want to push him away right now? i’ve never thought like this before. 

i inhaled deeply. “why did you kiss me?” my eyes found his and he looked like a deer in the headlights. 

he looked away for a second before looking back. “i’m sorry i did that.” 

“i’m not asking for an apology,” i said. “i’m asking why you kissed me.” i wasn’t trying to sound rude or anything other than curious, and yet he seemed like he wanted to cry. 

spencer cleared his throat. “i did it because i’ve wanted to for three years… and i knew that if i didn’t do it that night, i wouldn’t have another chance to.” 

i want to say that explains the last three years, but i can’t. he was too good at hiding his feelings for me to have even had a hunch about it until four weeks ago. 

i didn’t even recognize my own feelings for spencer until four weeks ago… and i’m still not entirely sure what those feelings i have are. 

i only nodded and looked away. i sat up all the way and moved to sit criss-cross right against him, leaning into him, head on his shoulder. 

i wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words, and spencer was okay with that. he returned the touch with an arm around my back. his hand gently grasped my waist. his head rested on the top of mine. 

i closed my eyes. he was really warm. and he was right there. “is it too early to love you?” i breathed. i could barely hear myself. the chances of spencer hearing was slim, but his hand on my waist gave a gentle squeeze. 

[ivyvenus333]

scenes from a reader x neighbor!choso fic i'll never write

The first time you see Choso, he’s lagging behind an energetic, pink-haired kid sprinting up the stairs to the third floor of your apartment complex. As you fumble with your key chain, you hear a deep voice playfully shout “Yujiii, where did you go?!” The kid is out of breath but covers his mouth to conceal his giggles, and his eyes smile with mischief when he looks at you. He stops and stands at the door of the apartment directly across from yours, pretending to be invisible. Moments later you see Choso round the corner of the stairs, his hands running through his hair and pulling to tighten one of his ponytails. His face softens when his eyes catch yous.

“Hey, did you just move in? That place has been empty for months” he says as he reaches into his pocket to grab his keys. “Yeah, I’m moving my stuff in tomorrow, just wanted to come check out the place..I’m y/n by the way.”  “Mm, well I’m Choso, and this is my little brother Yuji,” his hand reaching out to ruffle the kid’s hair. Yuji places a finger over his lips, gesturing at you to be quiet. “That’s weird, I don’t see anyone there!” you say with a slight wink towards Yuji. Choso lets out a small laugh and gives you a gentle smile. “Let me know if you need any help tomorrow y/n, I’ll be around.”

You end up needing Choso’s help carrying your furniture up three flights of stairs when your shitty boyfriend, Gojo, sleeps through his alarms. Initially, you just asked for help with your mattress, but you certainly don’t mind when Choso ends up in your living room helping you assemble a dresser. You try not to stare at the veins on his arms, more prominent from just having carried all your furniture essentially by himself. When you realize neither of you knows what you’re doing, you end up huddled around your laptop trying to find a tutorial. Your bodies are much closer than you realize (come on, the screen is tiny!) and you feel like blushing at the slightest contact of his shoulder hitting yours. A sudden and obnoxious knock causes both of you to jump, and you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed as if to say you were unsure of who could be at your door.

When you open it, you’re met with the disgustingly beautiful blue eyes of your boyfriend (oh, right). He leans in to give you a quick kiss and a “What’s up, sweetheart” before letting himself in. He comes to a stop when he sees Choso sitting in your living room before you quickly introduce him to your neighbor. “Uh, hey. I’m her boyfriend, I can help her from here, thanks.” You look at Choso apologetically as he pushes himself off of the floor to stand up. “Nice to meet you,” he says flatly and you can’t quite read his expression. “I’ll see you around y/n.” The door clicks shut behind him, and a heavy silence fills the room.

In the few hours you’d spent with Choso, it somehow came up that you grew up babysitting, which is how you end up on his couch playing video games with his younger brother. You hadn’t seen Choso in at least a week since he’d helped you move in, but when he came to your door frantically asking if you were busy there were no questions asked. You figured you needed a distraction anyway- Gojo had canceled on your plans to instead go out drinking with “the boys” again.

When Choso gets back a few hours later, he realizes that he’d never even offered to pay you. “Shit y/n, I’m so sorry what do I owe you.” “Hmm, how about you just make me dinner one night,” you laugh. He remembers you had mentioned how much you hate cooking and quickly agrees. “Deal, but I can’t promise you it’ll be anything good.” Before you know it, it’s become a part of your routine several times a week for you to watch Yuji for a few hours before eating dinner with the two when Choso gets back from work.

You try to think nothing of it when the three of you start doing things together on the weekends. You’re not babysitting Yuji and Choso isn’t ‘paying’ you with dinner, but, that doesn’t really mean anything, right? The three of you often found yourselves at the park, where Yuji practices to become a  “future soccer superstar.” You rest your body weight back on your forearms and bask in the sun as you watch the brothers pass the ball back and forth. You can’t help but smile at the difference between Choso with his lazy steps and hands shoved deep in his pocket, and Yuji who is running with all his might.

“Cho, please actually try!!” Yuji whines, and you chime in, urging him on. “Yeah, Cho, come on!” Choso jokingly glares over at you and huffs out a small “fine” before kicking the ball a little too hard. When the ball flies right into Yuji’s face, Choso snaps away to hide his laughter. You sit up as Yuji runs to you with his arms wide open and tears brimming in his eyes, before wrapping them around your neck. “I’m sorry baby, your brother didn’t mean it!” you try to comfort him. Choso can’t help the blush that spreads across his face and the warm feeling in his chest at hearing the nickname you have for his little brother.  

One night as you’re headed out to go over to Gojo’s, you open your door and are met with the back of the head of a tall, blonde woman standing across the hall. Your eyes meet Choso’s when he opens his door, and you try to convince yourself that you are imagining the slight look of guilt on his face. You give him a small wave and smile, before turning to lock your door.

As you head down the stairs, you hear the blonde ask who you are, and your stomach drops when Choso replies, “Oh, she’s just my neighbor.” The words hurt more than you expected, and you’re unsure of which part made you feel worse. It definitely wasn’t the fact that Choso had a girl over. You push the thoughts out of your head because why did it matter anyway? After all, you were Choso’s neighbor, he was single, and you had a boyfriend. And hey, at least he didn’t ask you to watch Yuji while he was fucking her, right? That night, Gojo notices that something is upsetting you, but he doesn’t bother to ask.

The first time Choso sees you cry is when he and Yuji come to your door with cookies they had just baked. Choso’s face instantly drops when he notices your bloodshot and puffy eyes. When he goes to ask you what’s wrong, he is interrupted by Yuji asking if “y/n, can we please come in!” Choso gives you a sympathetic look, and you realize that he knows you’d just been crying. Before Choso can say anything to Yuji, you chime in with a soft “Of course, you guys are always welcome over here.” The two make their way inside your apartment and you all sit on the couch. Yuji quickly gets up to start peeking around and asking questions about your things. “Hey, buddy, go grab your games and bring them over here, ok?” Choso suggests, turning to face you. “Y/n, what did he do?” You don’t say anything and only look down towards your hands in your lap. Of course, he knew it was Gojo – after all, you had told him about the shitty things Gojo had done, which means you talked about him more often than you’d like. Without looking up at him, you utter a soft “yeah, he got with someone else, or whatever, I guess..” and you can’t quite bring yourself to admit that he cheated on you. Choso scoffs and leans back against your couch. “What a fucking dumbass. You deserve so much better; you know that right? I mean, you are so-” He is again interrupted by Yuji’s small footsteps running back inside your apartment.

After enough rounds of losing to a child, you and Choso end up sitting back and watching Yuji play. When Yuji decides to sit on the floor rather than in between you two, you and Choso find yourselves sat closer together than either of you had realized. With Yuji distracted, Choso turns to face you. “Are you okay, y/n? Do you want to talk about any of it?” He unconsciously brings his hand to your face and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers and you can’t help but lean into his comforting touch. There’s a small tension in the air when he realizes what he’s and pulls his hand back to rest by his side.

 “I’m fine, there’s nothing I can do about it.” He just hums in response, it being clear you don’t want to go into any details. After a while, you muster up the courage to ask, “Hey, Choso, who was that girl the other night?” You force a slight smirk, trying to convince both of you that you were asking playfully. “Oh, uh she’s just someone that I met last week. God, y/n, things were so weird I had to pretend to be sick to get her to leave.” His eyes were clearly filled with regret, but it didn’t alleviate the odd feelings you’d had since that night. You let out an insincere laugh but couldn’t bring yourself to ask any more questions. You let the silence settle and ignore the unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.

After Yuji wears himself out, the three of you settle in to watch a movie squeezed together on the couch. You and Choso are pressed against each other with Yuji curled up next to you. Yuji soon falls asleep in your lap, but you and Choso keep watching the movie and giggling at all the adult innuendos. When you find it harder to keep your eyes open, your head lulls to Choso’s shoulder. He instinctively rests his head on top of yours and brings his hand up to gently run his fingers through your hair. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, you realize that maybe you’re in love with Choso. <3

[nyoomfruits]

PREGNANT LANDO 📈📈

okay so the idea is basically omega!lando gets pregnant through a one night stand, doesn't know the guy and doesn't know how to track him down but he decides to keep the baby and just raise them on his own. alpha!oscar takes one look at pregnant lando and goes batshit insane inside becase 'oh my god smell good must protect must keep save must comfort' but like he's a Proper Alpha so he's not going to like. bother lando with all that or whatever. it slips through the cracks sometimes tho. getting lando anything he asks, giving him his hoodies. sort of hovering around him and growling at unfamiliar alphas whenever lando visits the paddock, stuff like that. and lando is kind of charmed?? also oscar's scent is really nice and actually soothes his morning sickness whereas most alpha scents make it worse and so he keeps asking oscar for hoodies even though that's kind of a little innapropriate maybe but oscar gives them anyway so it's fine and maybe he asks oscar to help him out with some stuff and drive him to an appointment and then before they know it they're assembling the cot together in the baby room that's in a color they picked together and still completely oblivious to the fact that they're totally becoming a family ANYWAY i don't have an outline yet so nothing's set in stone BUT i did write this little blurb in the tsgc discord the other day that kind of captures the vibes

The whole meeting feels kind of stupid. Pointless, really. He barely feels pregnant. It’s only been two weeks, it’s going to take months before he even starts showing. But he smells pregnant, and the rules and regulations don’t allow pregnant Omegas to drive, no matter how far along they are.

And so here Lando is, wiggling around in McLaren’s stupidly uncomfortable conference chairs, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive so he can tell them The News. He chews at his thumb for a bit, lets his hand wander over his still completely flat stomach, thinks about what everyone’s reactions are going to be.

Oscar is early, for once. Takes two steps into the meeting room, freezes, whips his head to look at Lando, eyes widening, looking for all intents and purposes like he just got all the wind knocked out of him.

“Yup,” Lando says, doing a little jazz hand motion. “Surprise.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, takes an aborted step forward, freezes again, fumbles a little in place. “I, yes. That’s. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Lando says, smiling a little tightly. He hasn’t really gotten used to that, really. People congratulating him. It’s not. He wants the baby, he does. That’s why he’s here right now announcing his pregnancy leave and everything. But it was still a mistake. Sort of. It wasn’t planned. So people congratulating him feels. Undeserved, somehow. Weird.

“Can I. Do you need anything?” Oscar asks, still hovering in the doorway and oh. That’s. That’s kind of precious, really. Oscar’s Alpha instincts kicking in, wanting to take care of a pregnant omega. Protect them. That’s sweet.

And so Lando indulges him, smiles softly. “Yeah, could you get me a tea, actually? Lemon, if they have it.”

“Yes,” Oscar says, and then he’s out of the room before Lando can even blink. Oh, well. If anything, at least he can have fun with that.

[trickphotography2]

Santa's North Island Delivery Service

Stuck at work, Bradley is missing his daughter's first Christmas Eve. But when the squadron decides to turn the hanger into Santa's Workshop, the pilot is able to sneak away to spend a little time with his girls. (Inspired by a true story; Rooster x Reader Christmas fluff)

Word count: 2.4K

Ao3 | Masterlist

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Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was officially having the worst Christmas Eve. Not only was he stuck at work doing absolutely nothing, he was missing his daughter’s first Christmas Eve. 

With his boots kicked onto his desk, he leaned back in his chair and scrolled through the photos you’d sent him throughout the night. At eight months old, Bennett was too young to really know what was going on, but it didn’t make it suck any less. He wanted to see her lying under the tree, colored lights reflecting in her eyes. (He’d already set that picture as his home screen.)

“Hey, Lieutenant?” A knock on his door drew his attention, and he looked up to see Petty Officer Second Class Wagner, one of the head mechanics, standing there. 

“Yeah?” Rooster said, sitting up. Even though he outranked the enlisted man, Wagner was one of the most respected non-commissioned officers in the squadron. To cheer up the men stuck working the night shift, he’d organized a movie night after doing a Christmas movie bracket throughout the week - National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation had barely edged out Die Hard. 

“You got anything at home that needs to be assembled before going under the tree?” 

“Huh?” 

“Any gifts for the kiddo that need to be put together? We’re getting a list of stops together for the trucks.” Rooster gave him a confused look, which made the man chuckle. “We’re bored, so we figured we’d set up some presents for everyone’s kids in the hangar. The first group of guys are heading out now to get stuff, and then we’ll swap.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I think there’s a couple things. Let me check with my girlfriend.” With a nod, Wagner left, leaving Rooster to stare at his phone. After a moment, he called you.

“Hey, babe,” you said, answering on the third ring. He could hear babbling in the background.

“Hey. Have you started getting things together to go under the tree?”

“Not yet. We’re just finishing up bath time, and then we’re gonna get cookies out for Santa and go to bed, aren’t we, Benny girl?” 

“Any chance you can hold off for about an hour?” Bradley asked, unable to keep from smiling at the sound of his daughter giggling. 

“Are you getting off work early?” It was hard to miss the sound of hope and excitement in your voice, and he hated to dash it.

“No, but I’m gonna run home and pick up some stuff.” You hummed.

“Okay. I’ll try and keep her up. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too.” Hanging up the call, Bradley dropped his head and tapped the phone against his forehead. It was only your second Christmas together and the first as parents, and he was already missing things. You’d assured him it was okay and that you understood that his job sometimes meant spending time apart, but he hated it. 

“You’re a mean one, Benny Grinch,” you sang, gently bouncing your daughter as she howled. Letting your head fall back, you blew out a long breath. The crying fit couldn’t last forever. 

Though overly tired, she was fighting against going to sleep. It was a nightly battle, but one that Bradley usually helped to fight. You’d learned early on that he had what you lovingly called the Sleeper Hold - the minute Benny was tucked into her father’s arms, her eyes would start to close. Shifting her onto your shoulder, you glanced at your watch and sighed. As much as you wanted to wait to finish the bedtime routine until Bradley got home, it was getting late. “Alright, sweetie,” you cooed, grabbing your water bottle and retreating to the nursery. “Let’s get settled in.”

With the white noise machine and night light on, you settled into the rocking chair and lifted your shirt. Benny rooted for a moment before latching onto your nipple, making you inhale sharply at the pinch. Digging your toes into the carpet, you gently rocked back and forth, holding your daughter’s gaze as she ate. “Merry Christmas, Bennett,” you whispered, stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she grunted. You closed your eyes, comforted by the warm weight of your daughter in your arms and the tugging at your breast.

“Hey.” The soft, raspy voice roused you from the trance you’d fallen into, and you lifted your head to see Bradley standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” you replied sleepily. His long legs ate up the space between you until he was beside you, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. The familiar scratch of his mustache had your eyes fluttering closed again. 

“She done?” Bradley asked, a large hand coming down to cup your daughter’s head. 

“Should be soon.” At his touch, Benny startled from her doze, suckling hard and squirming. 

“You need anything?” 

“The sleeper hold in a minute to finish her off.” In the dim lighting, you saw Bradley grin before he leaned down again to brush his lips against yours. 

“I can do that.” As if on cue, Bennett released your breast, her breath a soft pant against your tender skin. Without a word, Bradley took her and settled her on his shoulder, patting her back. “Hey, Benny, were you good for mommy tonight?” He paced the nursery as you reached for one of the breast pads and cleaned up. When a loud burp sounded, you heard him chuckle. “That’s my girl.” 

You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you - your boyfriend in his tight khaki uniform cooing to your daughter as she rubbed her face into his shoulder to fight sleep. “How long do you have before you have to head back?”

“I’ve got about thirty minutes,” Bradley replied, turning on his heel to face you while pacing the room. “Benny girl, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Santa comes.”

“I’m not sure she’s old enough for that bribery to work yet.” His grin blinded as he kissed the back of her head, lightly bouncing her. 

“Gonna be fun when she is. We’ll track him with NORAD and everything.” Shaking your head, you stood and kissed both of their cheeks.

“You get her down, and I’ll start pulling out the gifts.”

“Put aside anything that needs to be put together or wrapped, and I’ll take it to the hanger. Apparently, that’s what we’re gonna do for the rest of the shift.” With a mocking salute, you left the nursery to the sound of him humming a lullaby. 

Ten minutes later, Bradley crept out of the nursery with the baby monitor in hand and joined you in grabbing the presents stashed around the house. The Daggers had dropped off their gifts throughout the week, and your family had mailed theirs. The craftsman that you’d helped Bradley purchase when he moved to North Island didn’t have the best hiding spots - it wasn’t exactly something he needed when you’d been his real estate agent - but with Benny so little, it was a problem for the future. “I think we may have overdone it,” you sighed, setting an unwrapped toy on the couch. The floor by the tree was already covered with wrapped presents.

“Nope, just enough,” Bradley chuckled, opening his arms. With a scoff, you stepped into his embrace, smiling as he swayed you. A dark spot decorated his shoulder, and you gently wiped away your daughter’s drool. “Gotta spoil my girls.”

“I really hope you kept to our budget for each other.” When he stayed silent, you pulled away and cocked an eyebrow. “Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed within the budget, right?” 

“I stayed within our Christmas budget,” he answered, his hands gliding down your back to cup your ass as his mustache tickled your throat. “Love you, baby.” 

“I love you too. Now, help me get all of this stuff under the tree. Did you want to do her stocking?” 

There was a whoop, and Bradley turned to see three guys crouched on the hanger floor cheering as they played with a racetrack. Another corner had been designated as the bike assembly space, an array of tools spread on the ground. One of the card tables had been dragged out from the break room, and it was covered with popcorn and an assortment of cookies. 

Unsure of where to go, Bradley walked towards a few other officers standing in the corner. “Hey, Rooster,” Captain “Taco” Bell said as he neared. “We were just talking about ordering pizza for everyone. Would you throw in?” 

“Yeah. Does anyone know if there’s a system here, or does it just go wherever?” 

“Wagner’s in charge,” Payback shrugged, nodding towards the NCO helping assemble a kitchen playset. “You got stuff for Benny?” 

“Just a few things. Brought some of the smaller stuff to wrap, too.” The two men quickly went to the Bronco to unload the gifts. Setting them in a pile with a couple of rolls of wrapping paper, they quickly assembled the play sets. A few other guys drifted by, helping to slot the plastic pieces together or offering to help wrap. Boxes piled up on one end of the hanger, and a sign-up sheet for folks who had larger gifts at the house that needed to be assembled was passed around. It looked like at least six families were getting swingsets or trampolines. Bradley idly wondered about setting up a swing in the backyard in the summer. In the meantime, he assembled the small slide that would be perfect for the living room.

The pizza arrived around 10:00PM, and there was a quick break. As they sat around the hangar, the Santa letter exchange happened. Wagner supplied blank papers with a printed Christmas border, and the parents swapped letters for others to write the replies. “This saved my ass one year,” Wagner shared. “My middle daughter was starting to question Santa, and boom - different handwriting. Got her for at least another year.” 

Around midnight, the squadron split into three sections - one to stay back and clean up the hanger, and two to deliver gifts and set up the presents. Bradley packed up his gifts and put them into the back of the Bronco. He was joined by three guys to set up a trampoline. Aided by headlamps, they were able to get it done in about an hour with only a few pinched fingers in the process, which was worth it to test it out. 

A trampoline was added to the Christmas list when Benny was a bit older. 

After touching base with Wagner, they headed to the second house to set up another trampoline before returning to the hangar. The third team left to assemble a swingset while they settled in to watch Die Hard for their last two hours on shift. 

Tucked away in his office, Bradley set about wrapping his last present. 

“Benny girl, look here!” you cooed, trying to get your daughter to look as you snapped pictures. Sitting in her father’s lap, she slapped the present in front of her and shrieked. Bradley laughed, quickly shifting his hold to wipe the drool from his wrist onto his sweatpants before retrieving his cup of coffee. Even with just two hours of sleep, he wasn’t willing to push back Christmas morning. After taking a sip, he set the mug down and took Benny’s hand, sliding it under the paper seam. Her hand flew up, ripping the paper.

“Good girl!” he chuckled, helping her tear the rest away to reveal stacking cups. It took about an hour to get through the presents, trading off the baby to get pictures. 

A small stack of presents surrounded you as Bradley opened his new electric razor. “Thanks, baby,” he said, crawling across the living room floor to kiss you. With one hand on Benny’s stomach to keep her upright in your lap, you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb along his scars.

“You’re welcome, babe. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas.” Pushing onto his feet, he quickly shoved the wrapping paper into the trash bag and ran a hand through his hair. “That looks like almost everything.”

“Unless Santa left something somewhere in the back of a closet, it looks like we got it all.” 

“Hang on,” Bradley said, reaching around the back of the tree and retrieving a small box. “Looks like we missed one.” Holding it up, he glanced at the gift tag. “To Mommy, from Bennett.” 

“What?” Grinning, he sat down across from you and offered you the box, holding out his arms for the baby. A quick glance confirmed it was Bradley’s handwriting on the tag. “What’d you get me, Benny?” you asked, smiling as your daughter laughed when her father tickled her. Lifting it to your ear, you shook it gently and heard it rattle. Tearing away the paper, you laughed at the kid’s jewelry box. The ballerina twirled when you opened it to reveal a bunch of plastic necklaces, rings, and bracelets. “Oooh, fancy! I know what I’m wearing today,” you laughed, quickly putting on a pair of clip-on earrings and a necklace. 

“There’s a note,” Bradley said, leaning down to press his lips to Benny’s head. He looked a bit nervous.

And there was. Buried under the plastic was a folded-up piece of paper. Your mouth fell open when you read it.

I couldn’t get you jewelry this year, but Daddy could.

With wide eyes, you looked up to see Bradley grinning at you. “Open the drawer.” 

Slowly, you pulled the handle to reveal a diamond ring. “Bradley?”

“Will you marry me?” 

Later, when Bennett was asleep and the baby monitor was tossed onto the couch, Bradley watched the Christmas tree lights dance across your face as he took you apart slowly, savoring your taste. The ring sparkled on your finger when you pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans as you shook apart under him, thighs bracketing his ears. 

Kissing his way up your body, Bradley paused to suck on a tender nipple, groaning when your nails raked his scalp. The tree shook when he continued his ascent, knocking the lower branches as he tried to reach your lips. “Fuck.” 

Laughing, you lifted your head to meet his gaze and wiped your thumb along his mustache, feeling your arousal coating the coarse hair. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama. Now get out from under the tree so I can unwrap my present in bed and fuck you properly.” 

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

Author's Note: This was inspired by my dad and his squadron when we were stationed in Japan. He had to work overnight Christmas Eve and they ended up making a run to everyone's house on base to pick up gifts that needed to be set up. I definitely believed in Santa for another year when I didn't recognize the handwriting on the letter the Christmas morning.

The jewelry box and note are also pulled from real life. Dad went remote for a year (he was over in Korea and we were stateside) to ensure that we got orders to Florida, and came back just in time for Christmas. My sisters and I got mom the fake jewelry (we were all in high school/college) while Dad got Mom a new necklace.

Thank you for reading my (late) self-indulgent Christmas fic! I hope you enjoyed it, and my first foray into writing Rooster. And a major thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, even if she's just dipping her toes into Bradley and would have preferred it to be Jake 😂

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @snoopdogcone for this prompt for @choicesprompts Angstgiving event. The prompt is highlighted in the text below.

Book: Open Heart (Book 2) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 3,363 Summary: Ethan's back from his mission in the Amazon rainforest, and it's time to face the wreckage he left behind.

A/N: Please note, this story is not part of my Ethan x Kaycee headcanon; it's part of my Casey MacTavish world where they are not end game.

@choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 - apology, regret

Casey was laser-focused on her task as she meandered through the packed maze of tables in Donahue’s beer garden. Nothing was going to come between her and her friends celebrating tonight’s victory properly, and securing a table was part of that goal. The place was packed, abuzz with the vibrant energy that seemed to define Boston during the final days of summer when the warm nights carried just a hint of the autumn breeze that would soon usher star-filled nights like this away. It seemed everyone had the same idea as they tried to soak in every last minute.

In the midst of clinking glasses, laughter, and the hum of dozens of conversations, Casey finally claimed victory. She flashed a bright smile when she spotted an empty table, waving furiously at her friends to join her. “Hurry up!! Hurry!” she beamed. “It’s almost time!”

Everyone quickly assembled, slipping onto the benches with their drinks in hand; the excitement was palpable. “Should we do a countdown first?” Elijah asked.

“Too late for that!” Casey replied. “It’s midnight!!”

 “Yeah! We made it!” Elijah howled with a raised glass. “Intern year is officially over!”

“And I say good freaking riddance!” Jackie chimed in. “We made it, and we did it with our medical licenses intact to boot!”

“Jackie!” Sienna frowned. “Don’t even joke about that! I was so scared Casey was going to have to leave Edenbrook! That’s one part of the intern year I want to forget!”

“I wouldn’t mind forgetting that part either,” Casey agreed. “But despite the low moments, I’ll still look back fondly on this year. After all, it’s when I met all of you!”

“Awww,” Sienna smiled, giving her friend a quick squeeze.

But Jackie wasn’t as moved. “How many of those have you had?” She laughed, motioning toward Casey’s empty glass.

Casey affectionately embraced her mortified friend. “Just enough to spill my emotions all over this table!”

Bryce arrived at the table and claimed the seat next to Casey, wrapping his arm around her waist as soon as he placed a fresh round of drinks on the table. “Well, it that’s where you are now, I’ll have you dancing when you finish this one.”

“As if getting me to dance is a struggle!” Casey chuckled. “But this is my last drink. I have a big day ahead!”

“Sure, rub it in!” Jackie smirked. “Now I can admit that part of me was hoping you’d lose your license because I would have swooped right in and taken your spot on the diagnostic team!”

“Not if I got to it first,” Elijah laughed, but his bright smile faltered when he glanced over Casey’s shoulder. “Speaking of the diagnostic team...” He nodded toward the entrance, and everyone’s heads turned.

Sienna looked like she saw a ghost. “Oh my gosh! He’s back!”

While her response may have been a bit dramatic for Sienna, it didn’t begin to express the turmoil stirring in Casey. The average person wouldn’t have noticed; she did her best to remain composed even as her body went rigid and her heart pounded in her chest. After two long months of absence, Ethan Ramsey was back, walking toward them like it was any other day, as if he hadn’t ripped Casey’s heart out just months before.

“He looks... different,” Sienna observed.

“Well, two months fighting an outbreak in the Amazon will do that to a person,” Jackie replied. Her eyes flickered in his direction, attempting to warn Casey that he was near.

But it was too late. He was already standing beside her, nodding a polite greeting to all, before his blue eyes locked on Casey’s for the first time since he had promised her they’d find a way to work things out.

“Rookie...” he stated, his expression unreadable.

If his presence flustered Casey, she hid it well. “You’re a bit too late for that, Dr. Ramsey,” she replied with a bravado she didn’t know she had. “As of sixty seconds ago, I’m not a rookie anymore. I’m officially a resident now.”

“Is that so?” he replied with a hint of a smile. “Then I take it you won’t be making any more rookie mistakes.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that,” she shrugged as her irritation began to crack her unaffected veneer. “If I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that everyone makes mistakes, world-renowned attendings included.”

The table went silent, the friends exchanging nervous looks as Sienna bit her lip. But if they were surprised by her candor, Ethan was not; it was one of the things he had come to admire in her. Clearing his throat, he replied calmly.

“I see,” he mumbled. “Well, I’ll let you and your friends get back to celebrating.”

A hush fell over the table when he turned and made his way toward the bar. Casey’s eyes followed him as her friends remained in a state of shock. Jackie was the first to break the silence. “Well, that wasn’t awkward or anything.”

Bryce tightened his grip around Casey. He knew this had to impact her more than anyone. After all, he was the one who had sat beside her night after night, listening to her cry and wiping away the tears that never seemed to stop. “Hey, are you OK?” He whispered.

Casey looked at him with a forced smile and patted his knee. “Yeah. I’m... fine.”

Sensing her friend’s discomfort, Sienna quickly steered the conversation, and the friends continued chatting as if nothing happened. But Casey couldn’t forget. Her eyes kept wandering back to the bar where Ethan sat in his usual spot – a seat so synonymous with him that it had remained conspicuously empty during his absence.

His expression was distant, and there was a heaviness to him that wasn’t there before. Even Reggie’s lively banter didn’t seem to impact his mood. He looked older... tired, as though the mission had taken more from him than anyone knew. That’s what Casey assumed it was as she looked his way. She may have been a brilliant diagnostician, but right now, her assessment couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

The night went on, and before they knew it, Reggie’s voice rang out. “Alright people! Last call. You ain’t gotta go home, but you can’t stay here!”

“Already?” Casey groaned, her voice tightening. “No! It just hit me... I’m starting on the diagnostic team tomorrow!”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Elijah laughed as Bryce offered Casey words of reassurance. 

“Well, I’m not starting on the diagnostic team, but I still need some sustenance to get through,” Jackie announced. “You guys want to hit the diner on the way home?”

“Why don’t you go ahead,” Casey replied. “I think I’m going stay behind and touch base with Ethan about tomorrow.”

She stepped inside the bar cautiously, so quiet that Ethan didn’t notice her until she took the stool beside him. “So... that last call thing doesn’t apply to you, huh?” she asked.

He turned to her, his eyes heavy with emotion, though his voice remained light. “Reggie and I go way back. We have... an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” She half-laughed, her arm crossed protectively before her. “Is that what most people would call friendship?”

“I don’t have friends, Casey,” he stated flatly before downing the remains of his drink. “But I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you’re so inclined.”

Casey sat in stunned silence. She had pictured the moment when he would return in her head all summer long. Through the heartbreak and tears, she had practiced the words she planned to say like a mantra. She had perfected them. Each word a unique piece of ammunition designed to pierce his heart the way his silent departure had shattered hers. She had dreamed about finally having the chance to unleash her fury. Letting him know just how much damage he had done, but now, sitting beside him, the words that were in her heart and mind refused to travel to her lips.

With an inaudible sigh, she diverted her eyes. “Sure,” was all she could manage to say.

Ethan nodded with a look of both relief and fear in his eyes. He reached over the bar and grabbed a half-empty bottle of the bar’s finest Scotch and two glasses. “Hey, Reggie,” he yelled. “We’re going to borrow this.”

“Why don’t we take this outside?” He said. “Winter will be here before you know it; we might as well enjoy it while we can.”

“Sure,” she said again, angry at herself for her inability to say more. He hurt so badly and ran off to avoid the fallout left in its wake. He deserved to hear them. Yet, here she was, rendered silent, following him like a loyal pet shadowing its master.

They settled into two chairs beside the fire pit, its flickering light casting a warm glow between them. Ethan poured two drinks, handing one to Casey. When his fingers brushed hers, the simple touch sent a jolt through both of them. Casey wanted to down her drink in one gulp. But, if she wanted to be sober for this conversation, a sip would have to do.

“You look great,” he said with a tentative smile.

“Thank you. You look... different,” she replied, taking him in.

“Different?” he asked, his smile morphing into a full grin. “Different good, or different bad?”

“Just... different.”

“Well,” he admitted with a faint chuckle. “I’ve been through quite a bit.”

“I’m sure,” she said, swirling her glass nervously. “We all have. But, it was brave of you to go on that mission.”

Ethan choked on his drink, reflecting silently for a moment. “That... that wasn’t bravery, Casey.”

The look in his eyes launched a swell of emotions in Casey: anger, sympathy, fear, pain, and mingled with something else - something she thought she already buried. No wonder she couldn’t lash out at him. She didn’t want to feel it; she didn’t want it to be there, but love was never something Casey MacTavish let go of easily. At that moment she knew, despite the anger and hurt, she knew the truth: she couldn’t pull the trigger on him if she tried.

Eventually, the reality of the situation hit her like a wave. After all this time, he was here – sitting in front of her - and she deserved answers. Her voice shook as she spoke, each word filled with pain she had been carrying.

“You left,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You left without telling me. Ethan, you didn’t say a single word.”

His expression crumbled, the weight of her accusation hitting him. He knew this confrontation was inevitable, but that did nothing to lessen its sting. Leaning forward, he braced himself; it was time to face the reckoning he always knew would come.

“Casey,” he started, his voice filled with regret. “I have no excuse to offer. I was... a coward. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran... I had to. I knew that if I saw you... if we had talked...I...” His words trailed as he turned away, unable to face the look in her eyes.

“If you came to me, you knew I wouldn’t have let you go with so much unresolved between us,” she replied. “I would have supported your choice if you wanted to go, but I wouldn’t let you use it as an excuse. I wouldn’t have let you run away. You would have had to face things... face me.”

“Yes,” he smiled sadly, “and that’s why I just... left.”

His words felt like a slap on the face. Insult added to injury. Casey was done shielding him from the damage his actions had caused. It was time for him to see it all. A bitter laugh escaped her, echoing through the empty space.

“Yes!” She shot back, her body trembling and her voice filled with rage. “You just... left. Left me! I stood in a conference room with all the other interns when Naveen announced your departure. I got to hear it like I was just anyone else... like I meant absolutely nothing to you!” She shook her head, eyes burning. “You told me we’d figure things out! You insisted we’d find a way to make it work, and I believed you! Then you were just... gone, without so much as a goodbye! Do you have any idea how much that hurt me, Ethan?”

“Casey, I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice and eyes filled with regret. “I know that was wrong. There is no excuse I can offer to make it right.”

“You knew it was wrong?” she seethed. “You knew! But then you remained silent the whole time you were gone? Two months, Ethan. Two whole months! I left you dozens of voicemails... I stopped counting how many texts I sent! Did you even listen to them? Did you hear the pain in my voice and choose to ignore me? Or did they mean so little that you just deleted them without a second thought?”

“Casey, don’t say that,” he pleaded. “Nothing you say could ever be meaningless to me.”

“Then why?” she demanded, her voice breaking as she fought back tears. “Why didn’t you contact me? You reached out to Naveen. You reached out to Harper. But me? Nothing!” She took a trembling breath. “You just ghosted me... after everything we’ve been through?”

“It’s precisely because of everything we’ve been through that I didn’t contact you,” he replied. “You know the stakes, Casey! We’re going to be working together - you’re reporting to me. Your professional development and reputation... they’re too important. You’ve worked too hard to get where you are to let it all blow up because of me. I couldn’t let whatever we had between us put you at risk.”

 “Whatever we had...” she snickered. “Past tense?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “And the past is where it needs to stay.”

Casey felt the resolve that his presence had softened returning to life inside her. It was all coming together: the sleepless nights, the heartache, hearing the whispers in Edenbrook’s halls, enduring the pitiful stares, the loneliness she felt as she picked up the shattered pieces of herself one by one without so much as a word from the man who had caused it. He owed her... he owed her better than this. She steadied herself before speaking again, her voice defiant.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she scoffed. “The past is exactly where it will remain. But do me one favor,” she asked, her vulnerability peeking through once more. “Admit what it was that we’re losing. Tell me what “it” was, Ethan! Can you at least give me that?”

He leaned back, an exasperating sigh escaping him as he focused on the bright stars sparking in the dark sky. “Casey,” he murmured, trying to find the words. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth!” she yelled. “I want you to tell me the truth! You shattered my heart, Ethan, and left me to cope with it alone. If you ever cared for me at all,  then at least have the decency to admit what it was. Don’t leave me believing I was just some... mistake... tell me! Did you... did you ever love me at all?”

Ethan turned to her, his eyes filled with a sadness he couldn’t bring himself to admit. Gently raising a hand, he tilted her chin toward him, relishing the feel of her skin against his, knowing in his heart that he’d never touch her like this again.

She couldn’t see his internal battle - a battle between the part of him that knew she deserved the truth and the part that needed to protect her... protect himself. She deserved to know that she wasn’t the only one who had spent the summer heartbroken. She deserved to know about the dozens of letters he penned, each one confessing the feelings he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud – letters he knew he’d never send.

But what if he told her? Knowing Casey, she’d forgive him and do everything in her power to make them work, even if it meant sacrificing herself. Would she quit the diagnostic team? Leave Edenbrook? Go to a lesser program? Knowing her, she just might. She’d fought tooth and nail to get to this place in her career, and he couldn’t... he wouldn’t let her sacrifice it, not for him, and not for something as fleeting as love.

“Casey,” he finally said, his voice shaking. “Love is nothing more than proximity paired with a rush of neurochemical responses triggered by heightened stress.”

She pushed his hand away, his words cutting deeper than a knife ever could. The memory of the first time he said those words to her came rushing back. At that time, she thought it was just his cynicism talking. It was almost comical. But now? After all, they had been through... he still believed that? Had their time together taught him... nothing.

She took a deep breath as she rose to her feet; this was it, this was the end, and she could feel the sadness giving way to relief.

“Maybe that’s all love is to you,” she replied. “But that’s not all it is to me. I spent the past couple of months so hurt, so angry at you, but right now... all I can feel for you is pity. You want a reset? Ethan... there’s nothing to reset. We were over the day you stepped on that plane. I know my worth, Ethan, and I deserve so much better than this.”

She let the words hang in the air for a moment, then, standing tall, she met his eyes. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Dr. Ramsey. I look forward to working with you this year.”

And just like that, she was his colleague and nothing more. He watched her go, her silhouette framed in the soft light of the doorway, and his chest ached with the overwhelming urge to stop her, to say something, anything to pull her back. But as the door clicked shut behind her, he sank back into his chair, knowing she was right. This was the end. They were over.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, the weight of regret crushing his soul. With a deep breath, he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled a weathered piece of paper, the latest in a long line of the unsent letters he wrote, and his eyes skimmed over the closing lines:

You’ll never know how much you’ve changed me, Casey. If only I had the courage to be a better man. You deserve someone who will meet you in the light instead of hiding in the shadows. I wanted to be that man for you, I did, but it’s not in me. I’ll always carry you in my heart, even though I have to let you go. I love you, Casey. Always -  Ethan.”

The paper shook in his trembling hands as he watched the flames dancing. Then, with a sharp exhale, he tossed it into the fire, watching as the edges curled and blackened before his words disintegrating into ash.

It was over. This chapter was closed.

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesprompts @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[cowpokeomens]

nicholas finger fucking you in front of the rest of the guys :(((( n theyre all degrading you for being such a slut that likes when her bf’s friends watch Oh my lord

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!! This started out as a headcanon then turned into 2.5k words. I'm not sorry, but I thought you should know.

It starts with a discussion. 

Nicholas, sweet boy that he is, always wants to make sure all parties are enthusiastically consenting before getting into anything. You’re the one who brings it up first- the thought of being watched, the thought of being watched by those closest to him. You had been hesitant to admit how much it turned you on. But Nicholas is nothing if not a devoted boyfriend who will do whatever it takes to make you come, so he gets to work.

Noah is the first to agree. You, he reasons, are objectively hot. He is, objectively, horny 73% of the time. It works out well, he thinks. The nice thing about Noah is that he helps set boundaries with Nicholas. Nicholas quickly realizes that he’s fine with them watching you, fine with them talking to you. But touching you? Out of the question. The mere thought of it gets Nicholas feeling feisty so he decides to save that for another time, after he sees how this goes.

He also realizes belatedly that he's not sure he wants all his bros to see his fully erect dick yet, so that part gets shelved for another time, too. There's lots of ways to make you come without fucking you, though, so he's not even sweating it.

Next up is Nick- who would be the most surprised at the offer, I think. Like, again, hell yeah, you're hot; But also woah Nicholas is sharing? Inch resting. Asks lots of questions about what he can and can't do, makes Nicholas realize that maybe...... Nick has thought about this before. He bookmarks that thought, Nick helps plot how they're gonna do it. 

Now Jolly. Jolly likes to watch and I'll die on this hill. I've seen this man on a stage, you’ve seen this man on stage, he has a commanding presence, okay? He very much enjoys the idea of watching a display, doesn't get too hung up on it being one of his best friends and said friend's partner, he's just down to clown.

So with the Avengers assembled, Nicholas gets to plotting. It starts with a cozy night in; There's wine, there's a movie, there's dinner. You're feeling loose as a goose, relaxing on the couch with your back against Nicholas' chest when he pipes up. “Remember what we talked about, about the guys watching?"

Um?? Fuck YEAH you remember!!!!

"Mhm" is your demure reply.

"Wanna try that tonight?" His voice is against your ear, kissing you softly there. You give it some real thought, wanting your answer to be honest, not clouded by worry or anxiety. Finally you realized that, yeah, you were ready, so you tell him so.

You could feel his grin. You didn't see it, but he sent off a quick text to the guys with your affirmative. "Color system sound good?" 

"Yep. I'm green. Obviously." 

He’d snort, hands coming around to tug at your nipple. It was just supposed to be a night in, so you were absolutely wearing the largest shirt in Nicholas' closet and a pair of shorts.

You’d arch into his hand as he rolled the bud around between his fingers, as his other hand would start tugging at the hem of your shorts, trying to get them off. Lifting up so he could pull them off, his hand immediately cupping your mound. You'd whimper slightly, grinding up into his hand as your eyes slip closed

"Good girl." He'd say sweetly.

"Good girl?" A snide voice repeats.

Your eyes fly open, landing on Noah's imposing figure standing in the kitchen.

"What kind of 'good girl' let's herself be finger fucked on the couch of a shared living room?" He questions as he fills a glass with water from the fridge. He's looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer you don't have. You feel a rush of wetness at his gaze.

Finally he speaks again. "Folio, come check out the show."

Your cheeks turn crimson at his words, but soon Nick comes into view, freezing when he sees you. A smirk makes its way across his face. "Well, what do we have here?"

Your legs come together instinctively, trying to hide yourself from their hungry stares.

"Nope, open them up" Nick barks. "Noah got to see, now it's my turn."

Slowly, you open your legs back up for them, blushing profusely at the vulnerability. You could feel Nicholas' fingers back on you, stroking your folds softly. He went just a little deeper and you shivered, body arching into him.

"She's so fucking wet, dude." Nick said to Noah.

The way they talked about you- like you weren't even there- sent sparks up your spine.

"Of course she's wet." Noah said flatly. "Little slut likes being watched."

That made you gasp, grinding into Nicholas' hand again.

"Where's Jolly at? He'd get a kick out of this" Noah asked, still looking at you. 

"I'm here." came a lightly accented voice in the doorway opposite them. You jumped again at his presence.

"Take a look." Nick gestured with a nod in your direction. Jolly finally looked your way, cocking his head to the side.

"Not much of a surprise, is it? I mean, we all knew she was a greedy little whore." Nick shrugged.

Jolly nods. He's the first to speak to Nicholas. "How many times can she come?"

Your mouth goes dry. You can feel Nicholas looking down at you, then he speaks.

"As many times as I feel like."

You gulp loudly, Jolly giving you an evil grin. "Bit late to be nervous, pretty girl. We can all see how wet your slutty little hole is."

Your mouth is open, panting. "Oh, she likes that." Noah is smiling too, the kind of smile you see in horror films. "Likes knowing all her boyfriend's friends know what a dirty girl she is. How bad do you wanna come?"

Your chest is heaving, you can't even think of words. Nicholas slaps your pussy once, to get your attention, making you moan at the contact. 

"Stop being rude. They asked you a question." He pushes.

"I-" You stammer "I wanna come."

Noah rolls his eyes, Nick outright laughs at you.

"You can do better than that." Jolly finally says.

"Please" Your voice is barely above a whisper. "I wanna come so bad, please."

"The little slut does know how to beg, isn't that nice?" Nick croons at you.

They're all slowly moving closer to you, and you finally snap.

"Please, please, I'll be so good, please I wanna come-"

"That's better." Noah praised. "Now take off your panties. They look soaked anyways."

You were scrambling to yank off the garment before he had even finished his sentence. Before you could lay back down, Jolly spoke up. "Shirt too."

You felt your blush deepen, but did as he said, laying back against Nicholas again. "Color?" You heard him whisper.

"Green" you breathed, wriggling around, trying to get comfortable.

"Good girl." Jolly said before Nicholas could. 

You didn't have time to linger on that before Nicholas was stuffing two fingers deep inside you. Your back arched off his chest, a wanton moan escaping you.

"Christ, didn't ease her into it, did ya?" Nick muttered.

"She likes it." Nicholas said flatly, pulling his fingers out to thrust them back in.

"Oh yeah? Do you like that, slutty girl?" Noah asked you, sitting down on the edge of the couch.

You nodded profusely, canting your hips into Nicholas' fingers.

"Look at her go, she'd probably just fuck herself if you let her." Noah sneered.

"Let's try it." Nicholas said, halting his movement, fingers still inside you

You understood immediately what they expected of you, shame coloring your cheeks as you began fucking yourself on your boyfriend's fingers in earnest.

You couldn't fight back the moan that you made, hands coming up to cover your face in shame. 

“Hands by your sides.” Jolly commanded immediately. 

Your hands came down instinctively, fingers digging into your thighs as you looked at them all helplessly. 

“Think she could come like that?” Nick wondered aloud.

You could feel Nicholas’ smirk behind you. “Wanna see?”

He curled his fingers up inside you, aiming them just barely left, and- oh fuck.

“Fuck-” was your only warning before you were shuddering through your orgasm, walls clenching around Nicholas’ fingers. Your legs shifted as the waves passed over your body, toes curling. You were still panting when Jolly spoke.

“Again.”

You gasped, head swiveling around to look at each of them. Even Nick was grinning now, obviously pleased with the direction the evening took. Nicholas slapped your pussy once, again, directing your attention back to him. 

“Ask to come again.” He demanded. 

“What-” You were cut off by another slap, making your whole body shake with the stimulation. 

“Color?” He asked quickly.

“Green.” Was your immediate response. He kissed your temple once, then slapped your pussy a third time.

“Ask to come again.” He repeated. 

“Can I come again?” You whined.

A fourth slap. You could feel your own wetness leaking out of your hole, sliding down your thighs. 

“You can do better than that. Put on a show for our friends.” His words were directly in your ear, breath hot on your neck.

“Please, can I come again, please- I need it so bad, please-” You were a stuttering mess, wriggling around in his lap. 

“That’s a good girl.” Nick said approvingly, sounding smug. You didn’t have time to relish in your victory before Nicholas was rubbing at your clit, the slide of his fingers having virtually no drag amongst the wetness of your pussy. 

“The little whore is gonna ruin the couch.” Noah stated flatly, as if you weren’t about to lose your mind in front of him.

Jolly snorted. “Like you won’t be in here trying to wring out the cushions into your morning coffee tomorrow.”

“Fuck off.” Was Noah’s quick-witted response. 

You could barely hear them over the sensation of your clit being played with, the overstimulation pushing you so close to the edge. 

“She wants it so bad.” Nick said with a soft chuckle. 

“Tell Nick how bad you want it.” Nicholas’ voice was in your ear again. 

“So bad.” Came your hoarse response. “I want it so bad, please let me come again, please, I’ll be good.”

“Such an obedient girl.” Jolly praised. “Do you always do what you’re told?”

A shiver went up your spine. “Um-”

“No, she doesn’t.” Nicholas answered for you. “I had to practically fuck her through the mattress the other day because she didn’t get her way.” 

Your eyes glazed over at the memory. You’d been extra bratty that day, but putting you in your place was something you knew Nicholas enjoyed thoroughly. 

Jolly tsked at you. “Maybe not so obedient. Maybe you shouldn’t get to come again, if you can’t be good.”

“I’ll be good for you.” Was your automatic reply. Nicholas’ ministrations slowed momentarily, then he plunged three fingers into your waiting cunt. 

You came with a sound so carnal that it left your throat sore. You were shaking, whimpering, clawing at the couch beneath you as you all but convulsed in Nicholas’ lap. 

“Look at how her pussy is clenching.” Nick sounded amused.

There were tears in your eyes now from the constant stimulation. Nicholas was kissing your head, petting down your hair. “Color?”

“Green.” You whined softly. 

“Think you can ride my thigh?” Nicholas questioned, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb.

“Yeah.” You responded, sounding pitiful even to yourself. 

“Three?” Noah asked, looking surprised.

You could hear the smirk in Nicholas’ voice. “She’s had worse.” He shifted you so that his thigh was nestled between your folds, the friction already causing your legs to quake. “Whenever you’re ready, baby.” 

You ground down experimentally, eliciting a moan from yourself that surprised even you. The glide was delicious, smoother and gentler than Nicholas’ calloused fingers. You knew you wouldn’t last long.

Still, you continued to ride his thigh, body on full display for the other three men in the room, who were watching you with rapt attention. 

“Feel good, slutty girl?” Nick questioned, sounding like he already knew the answer.

You nodded, unable to form a cohesive sentence. 

“You have a pretty mouth.” Noah said suddenly. “Shame to see it so empty.”

You shivered at his words, an idea coming into your head. Slowly, deliberately, you brought your hand up to your mouth, popping three fingers in and sucking deeply. 

“Poor slut needs all her needy little holes filled, huh?” Jolly goaded, eyes dark. You realized belatedly that all of them were sporting obvious bulges, pants tenting over their cocks. Nick was outright palming himself. 

While sucking on your own fingers gave you something to focus on besides the feeling of being set on fire, it wasn’t enough to fight off the tears of overstimulation as you grew closer and closer to your third orgasm. They rolled down your cheeks as you ground yourself further and further onto your boyfriend’s thigh. 

“C’mon pretty girl, give us one more.” Nick encouraged, sensing how close you were. 

Nicholas’ hands came up to your waist to help slide you back and forth on his thigh, fingertips digging into your flesh. Your free hand came up to rest atop his, as you popped your fingers out of your mouth. 

“Nicky, I’m so close, I’m-” You all but sobbed to your boyfriend. 

“Shh, I know sweet girl, it’s okay, let go.” He said soothingly.

“No, Nicky I- I-” You stammered.

Realization dawned on him. “That’s okay, baby, you can do it.”

That was all the confirmation you needed as you came with a sob, your slick squirting onto his leg in rivulets. You shook violently as you came, only staying upright due to his hands on your waist. Someone said “Holy shit.” but you couldn’t place the voice, overcome with pleasure as you trembled through it. 

You were still shaking as Nicholas pulled you down into his chest, rubbing arcs onto your back. “Good girl, you did so good baby, good job.” He was whispering in your ear softly. A split second later, Noah was there with a glass of water for you. You took it and gulped it down gratefully, giving him a small, “Thank you.”

Jolly was next, laying a blanket over the both of you, hands careful not to brush against you. You hadn’t realized you were shivering, and you were about to thank him when Nick handed you a sleeve of Ritz crackers, making you giggle at the gesture. 

“Thanks guys.” You gave them a small smile, tearing open the package and nibbling on a cracker. 

“Thank you.” Nick said with a bow, making you laugh again. 

“Seriously, I’m gonna go have some ‘me’ time and burn the last 2 hours into my brain so I can recall it when needed.” Noah said with a grin. 

“I was thinking of having a frame by frame storyboard tattooed on my back.” Jolly added helpfully. 

You snorted. “Guys, please no brain burning or tattoos. There’s always next time.”

They all froze, then spoke in unison. 

“Next time?”

[the-power-of-a-pen]

Oh, How I Love Thee

Fandom: Spider-Man 2 (PS5)

Summary: A series of cute moments between Harry Osborn and reader based on Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem How Do I Love Thee?

Word Count: 3061

Pairing: Harry Osborn x reader (romantic)

Trigger Warning(s): Cursing, 3rd to last scene is reader panicking

A/n: I don't remember the last time I wrote a fic, but I loved the new Spiderman 2 on ps5 and I'm obsessed with/gay for Harry Osborn. Also apologies: English isn't my first language. Also please give feedback -- I have quite a few more of these in my drafts that I'll only publish if these are well-received!

How do I love thee?

Planks, nails, screws, and metal bars were strewn haphazardly across the floor of the apartment you shared with Harry. His eyebrows were furrowed the way they always do when he's determined to solve something. You'd long ago surrendered the instructions to him after his persistent insistence that he could figure it out. Instead, you simply leaned against him as you began organized the mess of a dresser you had attempted to assemble.

"Okay, how the fuck am I supposed to know with one of these screws is the 40 millimeter one?" he complained.

You adjusted yourself so that you were lounging more comfortably next to him with your chin on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around your waist. “If I had to guess,” you started, “I’d probably read what’s on the top of each screw.”

He scoffed playfully. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

You gestured for him to give you the instructions, which he reluctantly did. "It says we need to put the x12 screws into the L2 bar first. Then we- oh for fuck's sake, why does this manual have pictures only? We're trying to build a coffee table, not a fucking time machine."

"Let's just try using the power drill on these," Harry suggested. "There's probably tons of extra parts in here that we can use if we mess up."

"Okay, Brunel. I thought you were a biochem major."

"Hey," he laughed. "Let a man dream. Can you hold this piece up?"

You obliged, and Harry picked up the nearest 40 mm-looking screw and drove it into the wooden bar at an angle to connect it to the bottom of the coffee table. You gave each other a look. It didn't seem right, but it did what it was supposed to.

"Trust the process?" you suggested. "I'm not going to try and read that chicken scratch again."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. As long as it stands up, right?"

The two of you repeated the process for the other four legs and the rack under the table. Finally, you propped it up to stand. It was a horrible mess, slanted and barely standing up. Truly, it looked more like a modern sculpture than a piece of furniture.

After a moment of silence, Harry said, "I'm gonna order something pre-made and get us takeout."

"Yeah," you sighed. "That's probably for the best."

Let me count the ways.

"I claim Yoshi," Harry declared as he selected the character for the round.

"Basic," you jabbed back. "My main's Toad, anyway. Rainbow Road?"

"Obviously."

The rain pattered against the windows outside. It was a perfect night to stay in.

As soon as the countdown finished, Harry sent a green shell your way and curved around you.

"Cheater," you jabbed as you spammed your controller to get back up.

"Hate the game, not the player," he bantered. "Oh, fuck you, Peach."

"How funny would it be if the bots won over us?"

"Not gonna happen," Harry replied. He threw a banana at your mini-kart and, by pure luck, managed not to crash into you.

On Harry's side of the split screen, it showed that he was on his final lap, with you a decent distance behind him. With the finish line in sight, you pulled the last trick in your sleeve. You grabbed Harry's chin and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, making him entirely lose focus. By the time you two pulled away, you were out of breath, and your side of the TV read 1st Place.

"Now who's cheating?" Although he was trying to scold you, the way he was catching his breath took away from it.

"Oh, please," you remarked. "You didn't mind."

Harry dropped his controller and, cupping your face with one hand and pulling your waist towards him with the other, he mumbled before kissing you, "Damn right I didn't.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

Your phone buzzed, stirring you from your sleep. Rubbing some sleep from your eyes, you fumbled around for it, barely reading 7:23AM off of it. You tossed it over your shoulder and rolled over, hardly getting anywhere before Harry pulled you back into him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck and nuzzled into you. "G'morning, babe."

"Morning," you yawned. Your eyes adjusted to the morning light and you tried to massage some warmth back into your hands. A flock of pigeons brushed by your window, tracking in a breeze that brought shivers to your spine. You stirred again, trying to get up this time.

Harry tried and failed to grab for your hand. "Where are you going?"

You smiled to yourself. Harry's morning voice never got old. "I'm just closing the window. It's freezing in here."

He propped himself up on his elbow and commented, "Well, word around town is that I make a pretty good personal heater."

You hummed. "I'll take that into consideration." You sat down on his side of the bed and brushed some wild stray hairs out of his face. "But seriously, just because we have the day off, that doesn't mean we should spend all day in bed. I can make us hot chocolate the way you like it, and we can sit out in the park, maybe try to find something good in Midtown?"

"That sounds great, baby." Harry leaned into your touch. "After a quick nap."

You scoffed as he grabbed your waist to pull you on top of him. "Nothing's quick with you," you remarked.

Your boyfriend just smirked at you. "Part of why you love me." You settled down onto him, resting your head on his chest and intertwining your legs. "Just... five more minutes, babe," he implored you.

"Five more minutes," you agreed, already drifting back off to sleep.

When feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace.

The movie you had been watching had run its course, and you were beyond tired. You resigned yourself to quickly run through your skincare routine and find Harry so that the two of you could go to sleep.

You finished rinsing the cleanser off of your face and stretched with such force that you got dizzy. Shaking this feeling off, you called for your boyfriend.

"In the kitchen!" he called back. And he was there, but sheltered behind the kitchen island on the floor with his laptop and countless papers strewn around him. The fans in his computer sounded like a helicopter about to take off. "I'm just finishing these last few emails," he yawned. "Then I've got to review the results of bee drones, verify the statistics Dr. Loughran gathered on the organ reproduction project, and then I gotta check if they repaired the particle accelerator yet and-"

You sat yourself down next to him and gently shut his laptop, kissing his temple. "Why don't we deal with this tomorrow?"

Harry sighed and leaned on your shoulder. "I've been putting this off for a while. I'm so close to finishing, just like 30 more minutes."

You ran your fingers through his hair and felt him fighting to stay conscious. "You and I both know that's a lie, babe. The weight of the world doesn't rest on your shoulders. Take a break. The work will be there tomorrow."

"But-"

"What did May always say?"

Harry sighed again, but relented and put his head in your lap. "You help someone, you help everyone."

You arranged the papers around you into a pile and grabbed a cushion from one of the kitchen island's stools to put behind your back. "Let the person you help today be you, okay?"

But Harry was already fast asleep.

I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if you used conditioner before shampoo?"

"Not really," you conceded as you took another bite of your ice cream from your place on top of the dryer.

Harry sat on the floor organizing the dark, white, and delicate clothes into piles. "I mean, it's probably better for your hair, no? Like, the whole purpose of conditioner is to break down unwanted particles and moisturize your hair. If anything, it's probably better to do it that way."

"Maybe," you agreed as you hopped down and put the first load in the wash. "But wouldn't that be the same as using fabric softener before detergent?"

"Nope. Fabric softener just coats your clothes in microplastics. It's a long-term way of damaging the bonds between the atoms for temporary comfort. Technically, we should be using something like vinegar instead."

"I'm not putting vinegar on my clothes," you objected.

"Maybe you need to be more open-minded," he teased.

"Maybe you need to keep your head in the game," you teased back, throwing his dirty T-shirt at him. You yelped when he threw a sock your way. "Oh, I'll get you back for that."

"I'd like to see you try," Harry challenged.

By sun and candle-light.

Harry raced past you in the hallway, tugging on a shoe while awkwardly hopping. You sipped your tea from the kitchen island as you stared down the morning crossword.

"Running late?" you asked as he grabbed an apple and tossed it into his bag.

"Yeah," he replied, out of breath as he roughly kissed your cheek and gave you a squeeze before rushing towards the door. "Pete's gonna have to deal with the donors on his own if I don't get there on time. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." You filled out the five boxes for 23-across whose clue read 'Oscar-winner Streep.' "I love you."

"I love you, too," he called as he shut the door. Almost immediately, he opened the door again. "Forgot my keys!"

"They're on top of your nightstand," you called as you heard him tearing your room apart. The jingle of the keys confirmed that he got them, and he bounded over to you again.

"I love you," he breathed, kissing your cheek. "You're the best."

"I know," you chuckled. You leaned around the corner to watch him leave for the second time before returning to your morning routine. You had just finished eating your breakfast when Harry came running in again.

"Missed me already?" you joked.

"Forgot my phone," he explained, grabbing it from beside you. He kissed your cheek again. "But that, too."

"Love you!" you called as he fumbled with the doorknob and you walked to the living room. "Kick ass today."

He gave you a charming wink then slipped out the door.

You turned on the TV and let a talk show play in the background as you cursed at your crossword. This time, it took Harry about 6 more minutes to realize he had yet again forgotten something important. He barged in for the third and last time, profusely apologizing.

"You wouldn't happen to know a five-letter port city of Japan, would you?" you asked without looking up.

"Try Osaka?" Harry filtered through the pockets of his coats in the laundry room until he finally found his wallet.

"That fits."

Harry returned from the laundry room and leaned down, pressing three kisses to your lips. "Okay, I'm leaving for real now. I love you."

"I love you, too, babe. Show 'em how it's done."

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

"Oh my God, you should've seen the look on Hasan's face when Vijay showed up. Like, I get it, you dated way back in the day, but showing up in all white? So then MJ went to go pull the wine trick on him while I tried to distract Hasan so that he wouldn't notice anything was going on, but of course the universe wasn't satisfied." You huffed and caught your breath in the middle of pacing back and forth in the living room. "You know what happened after that?"

Harry, from his comfortable corner in the couch covered his mouth to hide his amusement. "Jess said something?" he guessed.

"Jess opened her fucking mouth," you continued. "And she was drunk off her ass because she always is, and she comes up to Hasan on his fucking wedding day and starts shouting about Vijay coming over. So at this point, Song is already asking Hasan 'Have you been cheating on me? Is that what this is?' And obviously Hasan would never do that but now Song's upset so the two of them go to argue in the backroom while Keith escorts Vijay out and MJ and I have to babysit Jess for the rest of the evening." You paused and took a sip of your mocktail. "It was literal hell."

At this point, you realize the smile taking over Harry's face. "What?"

He shook his head as he surveyed you in admiration. "You're hot when you're angry."

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

"Do I look good?" Harry asked nervously as he adjusted his tie.

You brushed his mess of curls away from his forehead. "You look perfect. You are perfect."

"I really need this interview to go well," he said, biting his lips. "Whatever this guy publishes is gonna be severely edited by Jonah, and if even half of what MJ said was warning enough, we're screwed."

"You're going to be fine," you assured him. When that didn't seem to work, you grabbed him by his shoulders and said, "Your mom would be so proud of you. Don't worry about what you can't control."

Harry took in a deep breath, and, hugging you before going into the meeting room, whispered, "Let's heal the world."

I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

"Good morning," chirped the barista as you walked in to the small café. "What can I get started for you?"

"Just a small pumpkin latte, please," you replied. You shivered and wrapped your scarf tighter around you.

"Anything else I can get for you? Maybe my number?"

"No, thanks -- that'll be all," you assured her, glancing behind you to look for Harry.

You jumped when he touched your arm. "I've got this one, baby," he winked and offered his card. The barista's eyes widened in realization, and she silently finished the transaction. One of her coworkers finished off the order and handed it to you on the other end of the kiosk.

You unlocked your car with your keys and laughed when Harry rushed to open the door for you.

"What's so funny?"

"You're jealous, aren't you," you jested.

Harry mocked offense as he got into the car on the other side. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to, your majesty."

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.

Harry crossed your arms on your chest and hugged you from behind to give you that comfort of pressure. "Breathe, babe. It's gonna be okay. This feeling will go away."

Your breathing was erratic, your face tingled, and you felt so dizzy you might pass out. "I could've lost you," you managed to get out between gasps. "So much could've gone wrong."

"I know," he said in a low voice. "I know. But everything's alright. Pete and Miles have a handle on things, they always do. That thing's gone. I'm okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

You rested your forehead on your knees, but Harry didn't let go of you. "I tried to get through to you but that thing just kept on speaking to me, and Dr. Connors said you were too far gone and then MJ told me what happened at the Foundation- fuck's sake you were in a coma for three weeks and you just show up-"

Harry crawled in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. "It was scary for me too, love. I thought it was going to hurt you and-" He took in a deep breath. "The worst is behind us, okay? Let's focus on that."

You nodded and tried to slow your breathing. After a moment: "None of that was your fault, you know? It wasn't you doing it."

"I know." He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes with a shaky breath. "I know."

I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life;

"Okay, what do you think of this option?" You came out from the hallway with a new outfit and gave him a spin.

"Gorgeous," he breathed. "You look like an angel."

You sat down next to him on your bed. "Babe, I love you, but if all you do is flatter me, I'm not going to know what to wear to the gala."

Harry traced his fingers over the folds of your sides as you fiddled with the invitation in your hands. "Not my fault that my partner's hot."

"But it will be your fault if we're late," you retorted. "This one, the dark blue one, or the black one?"

He hummed. "This one," he replied with a wink. "It'll be easier to take off later."

He got up to leave the room, but you grabbed him by the tie, saying an inch away from his lips, "We'll see about that, handsome." And with that, you strutted away.

And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

You moved the needle onto the vinyl, letting the smooth jazz of Thelonious Monk fill the room. You waltzed over to Harry, and, wrapping one arm around his waist and grabbing his other hand, you swayed to the beat.

"C'mon, loverboy," you taunted him. "Show me some rhythm."

"I'm trying," he laughed, shuffling his feet.

"Baby, a little less Electric Slide, a little more moving those hips."

"Why don't you lead me instead?"

You spun in his arms and put your dominant leg between his legs and hummed as you swayed in a circle. Harry put an arm over your shoulder and started singing along.

"Glee Club paying off," you joked.

He bumped your nose. "Very funny."

You spun Harry as the music signalled that it was near its end.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Harry asked as he caught his balance.

You dipped him with the flourish of the music. "More than I can count."

[drvmekoo]

regroup | jeon jungkook [part one]

summary: drifting away from your best friend is never an easy thing to deal with. its a good thing a very important project is forcing you both to regroup

➳ pairing: jungkook x reader (f)

➳ genre: college au, fluff, angst, smut (eventually)

➳ rating: 18+

➳ warnings: just some swearing!

➳ wc: 1.3k+

➳ author's notes: part one is now here! let me know what you think of it so far! I love all the feedback!

PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO

“You got WHO?” Namjoon covered his mouth in shock. “I’m sorry to say this Y/n but… you’re royally fucked.”

You groaned “Please don’t tell me what I already know Joon! I mean Jeon Jungkook! Are you serious? It’s like I’m being punished for something!”

It was a new and sunny day on campus, students all over the grounds were talking and laughing, some rushing through small crowds to make it to their classes on time. You and Namjoon decided to join the many people already there and sit on the grass, taking advantage of no lectures, blue skies and missed sunshine. At Namjoon’s continuing criticisms of your new project partner, you fell on your back in the soft grass and covered your face with your arms 

“What am I gonna do?” you sighed “I didn’t reply to his text yesterday because there’s no way I’m gonna succeed going through with this! I need to get my partner changed.”

Namjoon too sat back on his arms “Look…maybe this’ll be a good thing! You said you haven’t spoken since school started right? Maybe this can be a fresh new start for you two?”

“Have you seen the people he hangs out with now? He’s in Jimins’ assemble! You know that little posse better than anyone!” You took your hands away from your face “We have nothing in common besides our parents anymore. It’s better if we just….avoid each other altogether!”

Namjoon smiled sympathetically before looking over your shoulder and widening his eyes “Uh well... You better think of a plan to put that idea in motion because guess who’s heading our way right now.”

Before you could turn around to get a glimpse yourself, you heard him first 

“You know, ignoring my texts really hurt my ego last night Y/n!”

“Oh boy,” you said under your breath before turning around to greet him. “What do you want Jungkook.” 

Beside him, Jimin smirked as Jungkook chuckled at your dry response “Oh come on, don’t be like that! You’ve known me forever!”

He pouted teasingly. Then his eyes travelled to Namjoon. 

“Who’s your friend?” His cocky grin faltered a little. What was that all about?

“This is my friend Namjoon if it’s any of your business.”  

“Oh yeah!” Jungkook waved at Jimin beside him as his gaze was still locked on Namjoon “Jimin told me about the quiet kid on the floor below.”

Namjoon blandly stared at Jimin, greeting him with a slight nod.

“Look.” You sighed, tired of the weird tension that was forming. “I knew you, let's get that straight. Now, why do you need me?”

Jungkook finally tore his attention away from your friend beside you at your interruption. “You know exactly why I need you Y/n. You and I have a project to work on and…times ticking!” He cockily pointed at his wrist to stimulate a watch. 

You sighed loudly. Before, you were hell-bent on switching partners. No way were you ruining your perfect grades for Jeon Jungkook. But now, standing in front of him, your mind had stopped being so critical. Maybe Joon was right, maybe this was a way of getting back in touch with your best friend that you once cherished and loved.

Looking at Namjoon for confirmation, he nodded slightly in comfort.

“Fine.” your fists clenched at your acceptance “If we’re gonna do this, you have to be fully committed. You have to be on time at ALL of our meetings. I’m deadly serious Jungkook.

“It’s very cute how much you don’t trust me but I think I can handle being on time!”

You blushed at the sudden compliment before coming back to reality ‘Oh yeah like you ‘handled’ making it to class yesterday?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Are we doing this or not? When do you wanna meet? Whenever is good for me.”

“Ummm…how about tonight? 6 pm at my dorm?”

He smirked “A little intimate don’t you think?”

Panicking slightly, you replied. “We can go to the communal space if you want!”

“Relax, I'm teasing you.’ He laughed openly. “Your dorm is fine. You live on the East block, right?”

You nodded “Room 218.”

“See you there.” He was already walking away before you could respond. Namjoon uttered a dull “Jimin.” as he too walked off alongside Jungkook, repeating in the same tone a “Namjoon” as a goodbye. 

After they were out of sight, Namjoon turned to you “Yeah you’re still fucked.”

- 

Damn, right you were absolutely fucked. 

The time was 7:30 pm. And there was no sign of Jungkook anywhere. 

You scrolled through all the notes you had individually made for yourself about the project, eager to share with Jungkook to make the whole process a lot easier. But after a while, it looked like he wasn’t even coming. 

Closing down all your tabs, you decided to finally put your stuff away when suddenly there was a frantic knock on your door.

You froze, knowing exactly who that was. 

“Y/n. I know you’re in there, I can see the light coming from under the door.” The well-known voice said. 

You cursed under your breath before opening the door slowly. “I thought we said 6 pm, Jeon?”

“Hey, you’re lucky I turned up!” He invited himself in, brushing past you and taking his jacket off “So, let’s hear the ideas!”

You scoffed, gobsmacked at his entrance. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You need to get out.”

“Wow, you curse now? Never used to when we were younger?” he chuckled under his breath, flopping onto your bed. “Anyways why are you in such a rush to get me out? Your boyfriend Namjoon coming over?”

Rolling your eyes, you spat “Namjoon isn't my boyfriend? And anyways what's it to you?”

He stared at you as he sat back on your bed. “Wait, he’s not?” His entire demeanour had changed, his cocky attitude sunny disintegrating. 

“No. He’s just a friend..”

Jungkook nodded slightly, seemingly in deep thought.

After a while of silence, you decided to break it “Jungkook, is there something you needed? I’ve waited for you all evening and I’m actually very tired so-”

“I can’t believe you still kept that thing.” He interrupted.

“...What thing?”

He pointed over to the dangling key chain attached to your keys laid across your desk. Both of you had made each other key chains during the summer before last. Each of them had a mini photo of you and him together when you were younger, both of your faces exploded in a massive grins.

“Oh…well…yeah, of course, I did. Part of the promise remember?”

Jungkook was instantly transported to that very summer. You and he made a pact to keep it forever otherwise your friendship was classed as ‘bogus’ He smiled at the simplicity of your minds back then. Although the promise was very stupid, his heart grew at the fcat that you still kept yours.

“How have you been Y/n?”

“What?”

“How has everything been?” He repeated, his wide eyes staring at you deeply. 

Your brows furrowed, “I-I've been…okay? Kook…what are you doing?” you continued lightly

He smiled sweetly “I’ve missed that little nickname.” He got up from the bed and strode over to you. “I’ve missed you.”

The proximity of your bodies so close together made you weary. What was happening right now? Why all of a sudden was this happening? You couldn’t get your head straight right now. You needed space. 

“I think…” you stepped away from him “I think you should go.”

“Y/n-”

“We’ll reschedule for tomorrow… 3 pm in the library.” Opening the door for him, you beckoned him out “Don’t be late.”

He stared at you a while longer, before getting his coat and walking out. Quietly, he turned around to face you again “I’ll be there.”

He started to walk away but then doubled back again 

“Y/n.” He caught the door before you could close it shut.

“For what it’s worth…..I kept mine too.”

@thvkives @sugaminh @kooromiwrld @no-regrets-just-confusion @leethvjkk @petalsofink @secretlypg95 @bangtans-momma @ane102 @v-taeunofficial @kc204 @jjeonjjk7 @toraluvs

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Bonded Pair. - OCxGhost Backstory.

|| [Part Two ->] ||

pairing: COD OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x Simon "Ghost" Riley bonus: Moot!OC (Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley) x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish words: 2K~ cw: injury (nothing major or too explicit)

May 2020

“How long until the American comes?” Soap asks to Ghost’s right as the lieutenant is halfway through assembling their camp/nest for the foreseeable future.

“Laswell said he’d come before sundown.” Ghost muttered. 

“What do you think he’s going to be like?” Soap asked.

“I think you should start heading to your spot and setting up camp, instead of yapping. It’s gonna get dark soon. You don’t want to spend the night lying on a pile of sticks, do you?”

“Jeez, L.T., calm down.” The Scot quipped with a chuckle. “I have plenty of time!”

“You really don’t. Sun’s setting soon.” A voice called out from behind them, causing them both to turn sharply, already pawing at their guns. The southern american accent was the only reason they didn’t draw them or shoot at the source.

Whiskey stepped out from behind the treeline, setting her hands on her hips after slinging her rifle onto her shoulder. She was on the tall side for a woman, standing at 5ft8, and had broad shoulders and strong arms.  Her dark brown hair was tied back into the usual military-standard low bun, though a few loose strands of damp hair were glued to her forehead, and the lower half of her face was concealed by an Army green neck gaiter that was pulled up to her nose. 

Ghost wasn’t particularly keen on working with her. But at least she looked more capable than some of what he’d seen come from the US.

She wore the standard combat uniform he had grown used to seeing on the Americans: camouflage cargos trousers, jacket, and Kevlar with the American flag. To keep her warm from the unforgivingly rainy and cold weather, she wore a brown fleece jacket under her camo, which was zipped up all the way, covering her neck and the bottom of her gaiter. She had on tan fingerless gloves, tan combat boots, and a camo backpack over her shoulders, from which hung her helmet. 

“You’re the Navy SEAL?” Ghost asked in greeting as he approached her.

“That’d be me.” Whiskey replied evenly as she reached forward to shake hands with Ghost. 

“I’m Ghost, this is Soap.” He explained as they shook hands, eyes locked into a strong, unyielding eye contact. 

“Whiskey.” She replied as she let go of his hand and turned to shake Soap’s. Only for her eyebrows to knit together and then set dangerously low, darkening her hazel-brown eyes. “You.” She said as she pulled her hand back before he could shake it.

“Me?” Soap asked, his own eyebrows rising up to his hairline.

“You’re screwing my best friend!” Whiskey said bluntly as she pointed at him.

“Am no! I have a girlfriend!” Soap said while shaking his head, entirely convinced of 

“Yeah, my best friend!” Whiskey replied with a nod.

“No? My girlfriend’s name is Meabh and her best friend is Victoria.”

“Right. Victoria, who’s American and part of the SEALs?” 

“Oh shit!” Soap said in surprise as he looked at her. “You’re her?”

“Yeah I am. And you’re the piece of crap that-” Whiskey stopped herself, biting her tongue and pointing a finger at him.

“Woah, you’re nothing like Meabh said you would be.” Soap said with a dropped jaw. “What’s with the aggression? I dinnae do nothing to ye-”

“You did enough.” Whiskey hissed at him through gritted teeth, her hand shaking as she wagged her finger in his face. She seemed so pissed off at Soap, Ghost couldn’t help but wonder what the sergeant did.

Ghost was watching the whole scene go down, the entire situation sending some alarm bells ringing in his head, not because of the animosity… But because Whiskey was loud and feisty. And he already had Soap to deal with, and now there was another one?

He didn’t even want to imagine what comms would look like between them, how they’d talk his ear off.

Whiskey turned away with a huff, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go set up shop. I suggest you do the same.” She told the lads.

“Wait!” Soap said as he stepped forward toward her. “What’d I do? Why do you hate me so much?”

Whiskey looked back over her shoulder, eyes locking onto Soap’s. Then, she looked up at Ghost and, for a moment, Simon swore he was seeing right into her soul and her right into his. Whatever reason she was pissed at Soap, it was bad, and he could tell.

“Just get to work and don’t piss me off. Gonna have to deal with you for three weeks…” Whiskey grumbled about Soap as she turned and walked off, heading downrange to her own overwatch coordinates.

Soap exchanged a glance with Ghost as she walked off, before softly murmuring. “What was that about?”

Ghost shook his head. “Fuck if I know. Just do as she said and get to your campsite.”

“Yeah…” Soap trailed off and waved a goodbye at Ghost before he headed out to his camp, following after Whiskey’s trail.

-

Night 1: 2000 hours

“I was thinking we take turns sleeping. 24 hours in a day, we could trade and do 4 hour straight of sleep.” Ghost suggested over the radio as he snacked on a protein bar.

“Copy that, L.T.” Soap replied, his voice chewed up, a clear sign that he was also eating.

“Sounds good to me.” Whiskey replied from her camp, her voice clipped and curt, even through the radio. “You can take first shift, Ghost.”

“I’d rather take last.” Ghost replied.

“Alright. Soap. Take first shift.” She demanded.

“Nae? I wanna stay up and speak to you about something.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Victoria, c’mon, I don’t even know what I did.”

“It’s ‘Whiskey’, Soap. I still outrank you and we’re still at work. Haven’t given you permission to call me by my name.” Her voice was so blunt and strong, Ghost found himself almost impressed.

“I’m sorry.” Soap ended up saying with a sigh. 

“Save your sorries. Go to sleep.” She demanded. 

“Aye, ma’am.”

It took a good half an hour or so, but soon, Johnny’s PTT was turned off, so, Ghost spoke up.

“Switch to 3, Whiskey.”

“Copy that.”

After switching frequencies, he finally spoke. “What’d he do?”

“Something he shouldn’t.”

“Cheated on your friend?”

“No. He’s stupidly devoted to her. At least from what she says.”

“Sounds about right. He talks about her a lot. Tires me.”

“Bet it does.”

“Then what?”

“Can’t talk about it.”

“Hm…” Ghost murmured. “Okay.”

-

Ghost was supposed to be sleeping. He really was. But with a new team member alongside them, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. 

Besides, he wouldn’t risk missing the shitshow of the other two bickering.

“So, how long have you and Meabh known each other?” 

“Longer than she’s known you.”

-

“How’d you meet?”

“On a ship.”

“Her ship?”

“No.”

-

“So how is it, being a Navy SEAL?”

“Fine.”

-

“So, how old are you?”

“Old enough.”

-

“Where are you from?”

“America.”

“Yeah, but which state? You’re obviously from the south.”

“None of your business.”

-

“You and Meabh ever work together?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Classified.”

-

At one point, Ghost couldn’t help but start to smirk at the way the conversation was going. All throughout Days 1, 2 and 3 of their watch mission, she answered Johnny’s incessant questions with nothing but nonchalant dryness.

He could almost guess what answer she’d give and what tone she’d use whenever Johnny asked another question. 

While she had been sleeping, the Scot had confessed he had wracked his brain thinking of reasons why she didn’t like him and had come up short… And that he wanted to make friends with her, for his bird’s sake.

But he wasn't succeeding. She was cold and stubborn and curt with her answers, not giving him more than a few words at a time.

Even as the questions got more probe-y and personal… She gave him nothing. In a way, Ghost saw himself in her answers.

“What do you and Meabh usually do when you’re together?”

“Hang out.”

“Yeah, but what do you do? Go out for drinks? Go on holiday?”

“We hang out.”

-

“So what does Meabh tell you about me?”

“The usual.”

“Elaborate?”

“No.”

-

“How come Meabh has never shown me a picture of you?”

“I don't do pictures.”

-

“Why the mask?”

“To hide my face.”

-

It’s as the sun sets on Day 4 that she finally gets tired of playing nice:

“You know, Meabh described you as really cheerful and funny… But I don't see it.”

“Meabh sees the best in people. Don’t take it personal. She lies about you a lot too.”

“I’m not that bad, you know? I don’t know what your problem is with me but… I’m just trying to befriend ye.” Ghost can pick up on Soap’s annoyance in his tone of voice.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Whiskey replied.

There’s a long, long moment of silence before Johnny tries again.

“How often do you and Meabh talk?”

“Often enough.”

“I miss her a lot when I’m on missions… Can’t talk to her steadily…” Soap admits, this time a lot more sincere. “Do you miss her too?

“No.” She replies. 

“No? Do you not like her the same as she does you?’

“I do.” Whiskey tells him. “But I’ve got ways of communicating with her.” She announces. 

“How’s that? Sending a letter and waiting weeks for a reply? I’m not satisfied with just that. Need to hear her voice… and she doesn’t have signal out there in the ocean…”

There’s a sound from the radio, which Ghost can swear is a snort from Whiskey laughing. Then, she speaks again.

“Can you see my camp from where you are?”

“Yeah?”

“Alright well, take a look at this.” 

Out of curiosity, Ghost decides to turn his binoculars toward Whiskey’s nest too, and adjust the focus until she comes into view.

“It’s a real shame that you can’t talk with your girlfriend.” Whiskey said while waving a black radiotelephone in the air for them to see. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Ghost smirks at the sound of her sarcasm, shaking his head, already anticipating the dramatics that Soap would engage in.

“Wait, you’ve got a phone to talk to Meabh WITH?!” Soap’s voice is so loud and high-pitched one would think he just suffered the greatest betrayal.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been speaking pretty consistently with her the past 4 days.”

“No?!”

“Oh yes.”

“That’s it! I’m going down there, I want to talk to Meabh!”

“No you’re not, don’t you desert your post!”

“I’m not deserting! I’m going to you!”

Ghost has to turn off his PTT so he can laugh without them noticing. Soap had been talking about Meabh for forever, talking the ear off anyone who’d listen, raving about the girl and how much he loves her. At this point Simon feels he himself is dating her with how much he knows about her… 

And now, here was her best friend, showing him just how much higher she ‘ranks’ in the girl’s consideration.

Turning his binoculars toward Soap’s nest, he watched the younger sergeant slip out and, under the shadows of the rapidly approaching night, rush out behind the treeline, dashing toward Whiskey’s nest about 2 kilometers out.

“He’s really going over.” Ghost murmured into the PTT.

“I know he is. Meabh is laughing over it.”

“YOU’RE TALKING WITH HER RIGHT NOW?!” Soap shrieked into his own PTT. “Tell her to hold on!!! I want to hear her voice!!!!”

Ridiculous, Ghost thought as he heard Soap’s desperation. How ridiculous it was to be so obsessed with a woman. Girlfriend or not.

By the time he reached Whiskey’s station, after a few minutes, Ghost got to watch a flurry of limbs happening.

And, after a moment, Whiskey came back onto the PTT. “Ghost contact Laswell, Soap needs to be sent on medical.”

“What happened?”

“He tried to get the radiophone off me, so I broke a couple of his fingers… And his wrist. And kicked him in the balls.”

Ghost pressed his lips together to stifle a smile. He shouldn’t be as amused as he is… But God, is the situation hilarious.

“Rog.”

[scaryscarecrows]

Hallucinations

Jason never likes dealing with Crane, but he really didn’t appreciate the bastard slipping a needle into the soft spot in his armor. Either he got lucky or he knows way, way too much (probably the latter, because Scarecrow’s an observant bastard who’s been in the Bat-bullying business for too long), but it doesn’t matter which it was.

That wasn’t his worst trip. No self-harm. Seemingly no harm to others, not that it would have been a loss. Just. Just a final burning out of weakness. It was almost worth it.

Almost.

What he could have done without was waking up in a chair with hands on his wrists that, for a terrible moment, felt kind. But then he’d opened his eyes and Scarecrow had been looking back at him with those cold, calculating eyes and for a second he’d been Robin again, facing down a monster.

But only for a second. He’d come to his senses fast enough and sent Robin packing, shoved Crane off him and managed to stand up. He hadn’t fled, after. It had been an abrupt leaving, yes, because the conversation had been over, but he wasn’t fleeing.

Even if it looked like it. Appearances can be deceiving.

He’d been glad, though, to get back to base where it was safe and warm. Somewhere where he had control of the situation. He’s not entirely sure how he made it back, but it doesn’t matter now. If he’s quietly grateful to be surrounded by normal-enough people who probably aren’t going to drug him, well, that’s his business, isn’t it.

“--some of the guys broke into a vending machine and confirmed the soda in there is still fine,” Drouot’s saying tiredly. “I don’t know why they did that, but it wasn’t worth stopping them.”

“The soda,” Jason confirms. “The earthquake soda that’s been down here for a couple of years.”

“Yep.”

God. He goes to the trouble of assembling one of the finest armies in military history, and the idiots drink years-old soda that got buried in an earthquake.

Sometimes he wonders why he bothers.

He looks towards the ceiling, sighs, and looks back.

And nearly throws up.

Drouot, who was fine two seconds ago, is a lot less fine now. Half the skin on his face has been peeled off, revealing splintered bone underneath, and his body’s riddled with bullet holes. One arm is hanging on by mere sinews and the other’s outright gone.

“Deathstroke got a little too happy with a hand grenade,” he continues, the broken teeth clacking together. “So that was…not good.”

Jason can’t answer. Drouot shrugs, coughs, and spits out a gob of bloody maggots. Behind him, a swarm of roaches scurry up the wall and into the vent.

“Joker’s been sighted two blocks south, but Riley went after him, so I don’t think he’ll be a problem for long.”

No. No, no, no, Joker’s a Do Not Engage–

Joker’s been dead for a year.

–it’s not safe to handle him, none of them know what he’s capable of–

“And Frank’s just about got the drill done, he said to come down there when you got back–boss?”

Jason blinks. Pulls in a ragged gasp. And wishes he could rub his temples.

Drouot’s fine. No bullet wounds, no visible skull. No roaches behind him, either.

Joker’s dead, isn’t he?

“Where’s Dylan.”

“Running a training session over at the construction site.” Drouot sounds mildly concerned. “They left when you did.”

…

…

He remembers now. They’d split for one of the construction projects and he’d headed to Chinatown. Joker is still dead. No roaches. Drouot probably can’t shrug off a hand grenade, and certainly not with that kind of damage.

Motherfucking Crane.

“That’s right.” Thank God for the modulator. It hides the shake in his voice. “It’s been a long night.”

“Mm.” Drouot takes a drink from his water bottle. “You up to looking at the drill?”

On one hand, no. He wants to go to bed. On the other hand, he both needs to look at it and doubts he’ll sleep anyway.

“Yeah.”

It’s Scarecrow’s fault. He knows it is. But he has to check.

“Deathstroke didn’t drop by, did he?”

“No, should he have?”

Oh thank God.

“No. Just making sure.” He rolls his shoulders and inwardly winces at the crackle. “I don’t completely trust him.”

“Then why is he here?” Drouot complains. “He’s a dick!”

That he is, but Jason’s pretty sure Scarecrow’s a bigger one. Pretty sure.

“Contingency, Drouot. He’s a damn good contingency.”

“F’you say so, boss. But he’s still a dick.” Drouot frowns and squashes a scurrying cockroach under his boot. “I think we oughta spray again. These fuckers are everywhere.”

“Tomorrow.” Jason looks at the horde climbing the wall again and wonders if they’re real or not. “Tomorrow we’ll get on that.”

THE END

[fromthemouthofkings]

Once Again, the Future

King stands in the convenience store deli aisle, frowning over two different sandwiches. They’re both good sandwiches. He continues to frown. Above him the fluorescent lights flicker, and the refrigerated cases give a quiet hum. In beat-up sneakers and a hoodie pulled down low over his eyes, and shooting furtive glances at the girl picking through the apple crate, he doesn’t exactly look the part. 

King woke up the night after a police officer shot his classmate point-blank in the back while the kid was running away. A wizard came to him in his dreams and told him that he had to do something about it. Yeah, seriously. (The man had a long, white beard and was wearing a star-patterned blue robe. That’s how he knew he was a wizard.)

He said, “Like what?” and the wizard said, “It’s almost time. Assemble the Round Table. Wake up.”

Before that, he was just Art. Now, he remembers bits and pieces of another life, an impossible life, memories that absolutely shouldn’t exist. He thinks he might be going crazy. Except that he recognizes them, the people from his dreams. His brother, Kay. His half-sister, Morgan. Gavin. Lance. And they seem to recognize him, too. Each time, he holds out a hand to them, and they take it, blinking, like his touch has reawakened something inside them.

They’ve been slowly filtering into his life again. (He recognizes them. He always recognizes them, even though they look different now. Their faces have changed, but the eyes are always the same.) 

Each time, he thinks about not doing it. About just turning around and walking out. Going it alone. He could leave his friends and family to live their ordinary lives in peace. But he doesn’t.

He’s gathered most of the Round Table now. He can see the ring of it, in his mind’s eye. Perce and Tristan, Lottie, Bev, Gareth, Pell, and Elaine. There are just a handful of empty spaces left. 

It’s almost time. He doesn’t need a wizard to tell him that. He can feel it. Whatever comes next—it’s about to begin.

The girl beside the apple crate is talking on her cellphone now. Her fluffy black hair piles softly over her shoulders. King lingers there, watching her. 

“Are you planning to buy that?”

Oh, great. He’s been standing here too long, and now the shopkeeper thinks he’s trying to steal something.

Lance gets up in the shopkeeper’s face. He always was Arthur’s most loyal defender. “He’s taking his time to think about it. What’s wrong? You got a problem?”

King pulls him back. “It’s fine. I’m getting this one.” Blindly he chooses the Italian sub and brings it up to the counter to pay.

Lance was the first to wake up. An accident. King saw his familiar face, that morning after, and booked it across a parking lot, a wire fence, and two busy streets to ask him what the fuck was going on.

Lance was playing basketball with some of his friends. He was the shortest among them, with gym shorts and a shaved head and shiny new Adidas. He got up in King’s face then, too, asking “Yo, dude, what the fuck is your problem?” 

“Who are you?” King demanded, because he didn’t know, then, that the others wouldn’t remember him until he touched them. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Lance had countered. 

Acting on instinct, King grabbed his scrawny shoulders, and Lance’s face had gone slack with realization. He dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the basketball court. 

King doesn’t know if he’s ever done this before. He thinks he might have. Once, maybe twice, maybe dozens of times before. 

King pays for his sandwich, and he and Lance head out. As he’s pushing open the door—that’s when he sees it, glittering in the sun. The sword is sunk into the sidewalk, with the hilt sticking straight up out of the concrete. 

He doubles back. 

The girl is checking out behind him. As he approaches, she’s digging in her purse for change. 

The shopkeeper gives him a dirty look, but he ignores it. 

“Hey.”

She looks between him and Lance, a confused half-smile on her face. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He holds out his hand. “I'm Arthur King.” 

“Uh, hi.” She giggles. “I’m Gwen.” 

He’d almost forgotten how young she used to be before she came to Camelot, how young they all used to be (he feels like he has lived a hundred lifetimes since then). She’s just an ordinary girl, for this brief moment, worried about boys and grades and getting into college and her mother.

Then she takes his hand, and she is queen.