#so it's good to see the tables turn and have the others try to be there for him instead. and give him the space he needs to process.
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luveline · 2 days ago
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would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?
—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k
“Aaron?” 
He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone. 
“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?” 
He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”
“You don’t want me to explain why?” 
“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.” 
You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.” 
“You’re interested?” 
“In working there?” you ask. 
“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.” 
“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.” 
He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since. 
He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse. 
“Are you ready?” he asks them. 
“For what, the round table?” Emily asks. 
“Y/N’s coming into the office.” 
Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy. 
“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.” 
“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?” 
“It’s up there,” Spencer says. 
“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt. 
He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks. 
You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.” 
“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.” 
“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake. 
“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in. 
“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.” 
Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”
“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”
“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time. 
“Exactly.” 
“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant. 
When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.” 
“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing. 
No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride. 
“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.” 
You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.” 
“If she didn’t work so hard–”
“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.” 
“We know,” Emily says. 
“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.” 
You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say. 
He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise. 
“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor. 
He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?” 
Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers. 
He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.
“Sir?” Penelope says back. 
He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange. 
“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.” 
Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk. 
Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods. 
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely. 
“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?” 
“Strong genetics?” he suggests. 
“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says. 
He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us. 
“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!” 
“I’m almost twenty three.” 
“So young,” Penelope fawns. 
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rosenclaws · 3 days ago
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XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut
summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.
a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!
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Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. He’s sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.
He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.
When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.
As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.
The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.
Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.
"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.
"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.
Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.
You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.
Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.
Fuck he needs a shower.
The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.
The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.
-
When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.
"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.
"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.
Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.
"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.
"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.
He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.
"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.
"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.
"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.
-
"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.
"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.
Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.
"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.
"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.
Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.
The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.
"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.
He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.
He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.
"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.
"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.
"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.
Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.
"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.
"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.
"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.
"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.
"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.
The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.
"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.
He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.
"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.
"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.
No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.
"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.
"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.
"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.
His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.
"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.
"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.
"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.
"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.
He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.
"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.
"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.
"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.
"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.
"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.
Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.
"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.
"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.
"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.
"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.
You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.
Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.
"Yeah, lunch sounds good."
Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.
Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.
"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.
Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3
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kisses4reid · 1 day ago
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scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)
synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.
genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff
warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness
w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.
a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)
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The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.
Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.
Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.
He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.
Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.
And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?
You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.
And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.
“Are you okay?”
You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”
His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.
It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.
He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”
You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.
Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.
“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.
“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”
Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.
You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.
“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.
“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.
“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”
Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“
You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”
“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”
“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend. Ugh.
You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”
He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”
You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.
“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.
“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”
You’re overreacting.
That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.
Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.
The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.
Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.
But… what if?
There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.
“You okay?”
“Um…”
You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”
You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.
“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”
He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.
Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.
“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”
You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.
My man, you thought with a smile.
My man, you shivered.
“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,
“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.
“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.
God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.
“Yeah, just feeling-“
“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”
It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.
It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.
But I’m overreacting.
“It’s nothing.”
Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.
You heard his sigh.
“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”
You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,
“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“
“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.
His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.
Spencer gulped, “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,
“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“
“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“
“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“
“Wait so-”
You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.
“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.
He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.
The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.
You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.
You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.
It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.
He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.
You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.
You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”
Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.
“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.
I just hope it’s not with him.
He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”
“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.
Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.
No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’
No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.
You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.
You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”
taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner
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Forbidden Fruit.
That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.
declan o’hara x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.
word count - 2.3k
authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.
masterlist. inbox.
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You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.
Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.
Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.
“Y’alright?”
You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.
“Bored out of my mind, actually.”
“You’d never know.”
“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”
He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.
“Whatcha doing tonight?”
He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.
“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”
“What time?”
You roll your eyes but answer anyway.
“Nine.”
“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”
“That’s a stupid idea.”
“You usually love my stupid ideas.”
“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”
He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.
“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”
He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.
“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”
Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…
“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”
He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”
“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.
He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.
“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”
He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.
“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”
Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.
He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.
You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.
The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Hi darlin’.”
His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.
“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.
He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.
“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”
“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.
“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”
“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”
He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.
Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”
“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.
“I fucking love it.”
“Good. Bought it for you.”
He groans, grinding his hips into yours.
“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.
He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.
“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”
Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.
Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.
You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.
“Please, Dec.”
“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”
He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.
“Don’t tease.”
“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”
“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”
He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”
You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.
He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.
His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.
You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.
Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.
“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”
He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.
“What do you want, darlin’?”
You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.
“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”
“I-Declan, I just-”
“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”
Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.
“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”
All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.
“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”
He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.
You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.
“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”
Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.
“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”
You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.
You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.
“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.
“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”
You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.
“It’s twenty past eight.”
“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.
“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”
You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.
“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”
“I’ll hold ya to that.”
The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.
“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”
You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.
“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”
“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”
You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”
“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”
“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”
“You’re a minx.”
He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.
“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“Yes, you will.”
You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.
You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.
You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.
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a little gift for you, as promised…
@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence
and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3
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hellenhighwater · 1 day ago
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Whilst browsing my dash I came upon a couple of posts of yours. One being the citrus garland one, and the other being the completed pepper juice to the eye post. I've wanted to do citrus garlands for *years* but I am allergic to citrus. Only upon seeing your post did I realize that I should be fine if I wear gloves.
Now to the second post and my reason for being here. Forgive me for being a bit long-winded, I promise it goes somewhere. I am the director for the elementary DnD after school club. I had intended to run a wizard themed game, but multiple things got in the way and I was unable to get any of those ideas off the ground. However, my students did come up with what their wands were going to look like. And so I have a new quest: make wands for my kids. I have the wands themselves already made, and today I picked up things to make the wands unique (paint, gems, clay, etc.) But upon seeing your post about making the big batches of stuff to give away as gifts I went, "Ooh, I want to do that!" But I am no good in the kitchen so I turned to Pinterest for potential ideas. I saw many tutorials on how to make tiny potion bottles, and reached out to a friend who also hoards crafts like a dragon. I sought for her to make me stop, but truly I wanted permission to go for it. She suggested that I go all in and make a jar of homemade spice blend, decorate it with witchy stuff, throw in some fake potions, and make a whole gift box for the holidays.
So yeah, I guess I'm making wizard boxes now.
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You should be able to use the orange drying method on most fruits, for what it's worth (persimmons, especially, give a very vibrant orange color, though they are still citrus) including apples and pears. So if the gloves don't do the trick, maybe try a different fruit entirely?
From the depths of my tiny bottles drawer: a handful of spell component jars, made for a campaign that's years ago now!
Spice mixes are fun, but because they generally go into hot beverages, maybe not the best option for elementary schoolers. Instead, may I suggest "mystery" powdered drink mixes, re-packaged into tiny potion bottles like the two above? You could label them and have a pitcher of water and cups with each character's name at the table, and let players dump the powder into their cup and drink whatever it is, either when they use a potion or as a spell component. (Small cups just larger than a shot glass may be preferred to stave off constant pee breaks.) You could also mix in festive sprinkles or food-safe luster dust for visual texture; a little extra sugar in most powdered mixes won't be highly noticeable.
But I do love the idea of a little wizard goodie box to take home! That sounds like a super fun campaign; I hope they enjoy it.
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catherinnn · 3 days ago
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Snowed In
a fluffy Christmas friends to lovers fic between eddie x fem!reader
words: 2.3k
divider by @strangergraphics ♡
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The group was going away for the holidays. Steve's family has a cabin in the mountains and it was completely free this year.
So Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Eddie and you decided to have your own holidays.
The cabin was... well, it was huge. It had three separate bedrooms, the distribution was: Nancy and Jonathan in one, Eddie and Steve in the other, and Robin and you in the last one.
The cabin was in the middle of the woods as well, so you had to go groceries shopping on the first day and make sure you're not missing anything. And as you and Nancy were in charge of the shopping, you also got some Christmas decorations for the house. It wouldn't feel festive if there weren't.
Problems started when one morning Steve woke everyone up feeling nervous and frustrated. We had gotten snowed in.
We couldn't open any of the doors and some of the windows. And to top it all, it was even colder inside here than before.
So your plans of going on a walk or hiking together were out the window.
"We have some movies here, I can see if there's anything kinda good" Steve offered.
"We can also bake some cookies!" Robin says—she was secretly thrilled of not being able to go hiking as she had absolutely hated that idea in the first place.
"Or... you know, we can start decorating and make this place look more festive" Nancy proposes.
"Oh yes! We bought the cutest things at the store" You say excited, getting the box with the ornaments.
"Alright, we can decorate, bake cookies, and once we're done, we'll see the movie" Jonathan plans and everybody seems to agree.
"Fuck, I think I left my cassettes in the car" Eddie realizes when he looked for them to play something while we decorated. Steve and you secretly high-five at that, being sick and tired of Eddie's music already.
"Oh well, they weren’t very Christmassy either way" you fake sympathy for him.
"Just turn on the radio, maybe they'll play some holiday songs" Steve says.
And just like that, the afternoon goes by.
Eddie and you are in charge of the living room decorations while Robin and Steve start baking.
"This is the tree?" Eddie asks me disappointed. It was a small tree that could fit perfectly on top of a table.
"Well, we couldn't get the big one! It was too expensive! Plus, what would we do  with it when we leave?" you explain.
"This is just sad" Eddie keeps analyzing it.
"Shut up! Don't say that to the tree," you shove him playfully. "Just help me decorate it!"
"Fine, let's choose the five ornaments we can put on it!" Eddie jokes.
"Look at this one" you pout taking a big sparkly red ball.
"It's bigger than the tree, sweetheart" Eddie laughs.
"You're not being festive, Munson!"
"Sorry, my apologies"
You start hanging the things on the tree until it looks colorful and sparkly enough.
"This is the star we got" you take it out of the box to show it to Eddie.
"It's actually very pretty" he admits.
"I know, right?" you say, very happy with it.
"Here, let's make it feel Christmassy enough" Eddie gets up and grabs the tree, lifting it high up in the air.
"What are you doing? Be careful!" you say.
"You have to stand on your tippies to put the star on the top, just like on a proper tree" he keeps making fun of your tree but that’s actually cute. So you stand up with the star on your hand and stretch as high as you can to reach the top.
Eddie laughs since you still can't reach.
"You're too tall! Lower it a bit!" you demand but he refuses.
"It's like on an actual tree, you'll have to keep trying" he grins.
"Alright, fine" you say and go to stand on the couch so you can reach it.
"Oh, come on!" Eddie rolls his eyes and moves away from the couch.
"No, that's cheating! The tree can't move on its own!" you complain. You grab Eddie by his arm and pull him closer again, finally placing the star at the top. "Aww, it looks beautiful"
"Decent enough," Eddie jokes and places the tiny tree next to the TV. "Is that it here? What else do we have?"
"We have a few more decorations yet. What are the rest doing?" you ask.
"Robin and Steve are in charge of the cookies, Nancy and Jonathan said they had a surprise, I'm not quite sure what it is" he says.
After you finish with the few other decorations, Robin and Steve come out of the kitchen with flour all over their faces and hair. As if they had a food fight (which was probably what happened.)
"Cookies are done!" Robin announces and Steve starts choosing the movie.
Nancy and Jonathan get back too after a few minutes.
"What were you two doing?" you ask but they just shrug and act mysterious.
"Alright, we only have The Goonies and Halloween" Steve announces our options.
"Oh Halloween, please!" Eddie calls.
"No, we're not in the horror mood anymore, I vote Goonies" you say. The girls agree with you and Steve ends up voting for Goonies as well. Eddie thinks it's just because he's too chicken with horror movies.
You take the big couch, sitting next to Eddie and share a big blanket because it's still really cold in here.
The morning of the 25th finally comes around. Robin and you wake up excitedly and run to wake the rest up as well.
You enjoy the comfort of the movie and the freshly baked cookies. And at one point, you end up too cuddled up with Eddie under the blanket, claiming it was only because you two were still cold. But it's really because his hugs have always been the best ones. It's like you two fit like puzzle pieces, perfectly together. And to be honest, it was supposed to be a comfort night, with a comfort movie, comfort food, it was only logical to cuddle with him to get the ultimate comfort experience.
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The idea for this year was Secret Santa, since you were already spending on this holiday trip, and to be fair, it adds excitement to guess who it was.
You got Nancy, for whom you bought a new journal with a lot of cool and handy features, and a necklace with her initials.
The idea was that the gifts should have a special meaning between the two of you so it would be easier to guess. The journal was because she had told you she was in need of a new one already and she wanted one of these. Similarly with the necklace, one time when you two were out shopping, she was looking for a new necklace but couldn't find anything that really convinced her.
As she opens up the presents, she gasps when she notices what they were, a big smile forming on her face after.
You're very bad at this game since you're already grinning and swallowing your giggles of excitement.
She takes a few seconds, considering. Then, her eyes land on you, as if she was checking on your reaction to confirm her theory. That is what gives it away.
"It's you!" she says content. You let your laughter free, the last confirmation Nancy needed. "I love this! How did you even remember this?"
She gets up and hugs you. "Thank you, I love it!" she repeats.
The round of gift opening continues, Steve realizes Robin was his Secret Santa. And Eddie follows, realizing Nancy was his, from the brand new leather jacket she got him since she always tells him the one he currently has is looking worn out and the zipper doesn't even work.
You go to open yours next. With the excitement of a little kid.
The first thing you see is a mixtape, named 'Our Songs.’ It would be a more helpful clue if you could see what songs it had on it.
The next thing you grab is a big mug, like the ones you love. It's a white mug with drawings of little flowers all around it. Very delicate and simple, but it's exactly your style.
The last item is in a little box. Opening it, you find two rings, two matching rings. They are designed to fit together perfectly.
The smaller ring is simple, with a finer band and a small bat raised on its surface.
The larger ring is bold and bigger, with the same bat design cut out from the band, leaving an open space. The small ring can fit inside the large one, with the bat designs aligning perfectly.
Your jaw is on the floor, this left you speechless.
Recombining the clues is pretty obvious who your secret santa is. Eddie makes mixtapes for everyone and every occasion. You were still curious to see what songs it had on. The mug could be since you always use a different one from Wayne's collection every time you're at Eddie's, saying you want to have a cool collection like that too sometime. And the rings are the most obvious ones, Eddie loves bats and you had told him that his tattoo of them was your favorite one of his. Plus, he's the king of chunky rings.
You look up at him immediately, he's looking at you with a small smile, he's a better actor than you.
"It's you, isn't it?" you ask almost with a hopeful tone. He grins and nods.
You jump to hug him. Squeezing tight. "These are the most beautiful gifts I've ever gotten!" you exclame.
Eddie laughs, holding you back. "They're pretty normal gifts" he says.
"No, they mean so much more!" you quickly tell him. "Eddie, I love these rings!"
"Yeah? They're my favorite too" he smiles.
You take them out of their box and give him the big one, as you put the smaller one on. He takes one of his old rings out and replaces it.
"I love them!" you exclame again, very pleased and excited. You hug him tightly again.
"I'm glad, princess" he laughs.
The weird sensation you feel in your tummy as you see the rings on each finger, and the representation of them completing each other, does not go unnoticed by you. It's like your stomach jumped from happiness too.
After everyone guesses their secret santa and everyone is happy with their new gifts, you go back to your routine in the cabin.
You already loved his hands, and he just added the perfect detail with that ring that matches with the one on your finger. As if it brings you even closer, a confirmation of how much you care for each other.
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Eddie and you offer to set the table for lunch.
"Where were the dishes again?" Eddie asks confused from the kitchen.
"On the top shelf!" You indicate from the dining room, setting the gasses on the table.
"Which one? I don't see them" Eddie says.
"The middle one" You say.
"Can't you just come show me which one?" Eddie opens the door from the kitchen, asking you.
You walk over to him, and as you are standing next to him, you signal which door has the dishes.
"Wait! Eddie, don't move!" Nancy says hurriedly.
"What? Why?" he asks, confused.
"Look over your heads" Jonathan smirks.
As you focus your view to the ceiling, you see a mistletoe hanging on the doorframe you are standing under.
"When did you put this here?" You ask them.
"It's the magic of Christmas!" Jonathan teases.
"Must have been one of the elfs" Nancy chimes in.
"Alright, funny" Eddie rolls his eyes, ready to ignore all of this.
"You can't move!" Jonathan stops him. "It's bad luck!"
"They used to believe you would never get married if you didn't kiss" Nancy tells us.
"You're kidding?" you chuckle.
"Nope, those are the rules" Jonathan insists.
Eddie rolls his eyes again, and laughs. He turns his gaze to me. "Do you really want to get married sometime?" he asks me with a smirk.
"Of course! If I don't end up getting married I'll hate you forever, Munson" you threaten.
"If you don't find another husband, I'll marry you" he jokes.
"That's not the proposal I want" you huff.
"Alright, fine, but I better be your man of honor in your wedding," he jokes. "Come here" he smirks, hiding his nerves as he grabs your face softly.
"Fine" you say, ignoring the way your heart is jumping as you close your eyes.
You feel his nose touch yours for a second, giving you time to regret this if you needed to. Then, he locks his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. You have to fight back the smile that wants to form on your face. And you kiss him back, hands on his chest.
Seconds after, you think he'd break apart, but he keeps moving his lips slowly against yours. You don't stop either.
Jonathan and Nancy walk away quietly with surprised and yet pleased faces on, to give you privacy.
Eddie's hands move to your waist as the kiss becomes more than just a peck, tongues meeting softly now. Your hands fly up to his hair, bringing him slightly closer. He brings you closer too as he wraps his arms around your waist.
The kiss is no longer shy. Both getting lost on each other, you make the best of the situation. Letting out some secret feelings into the kiss.
You break out for air finally. Not moving more than necessary. His hands still on your waist and yours still tangled in his curls. Faces still millimeters apart.
"U- um" you let out.
"Yeah" Eddie says uncomfortably as he makes more space between you too, losing the embrace.
"Dishes" you remember.
a/n: these are the rings:
"Yeah, right" he shakes his head out of the trance.
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ellecdc · 1 day ago
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OMG CONGRATULATIONS ON 5K MOTHER!!! LY<3 Could I please request 🐻— 'one talking to the other when they think they’re asleep' with our pretty boy Remus where it's the reader talking about Rem🥹
thank you so much, lovie!! <3
Remus Lupin x gn!reader who thinks he's asleep [663 words]
CW: written with a fem!reader in mind but no gender markers used, fluff
Remus can tell that the movie has ended by the deep, definitive breath you take as the credits roll and the music plays. 
You don’t move, though, and for that Remus is grateful. It had been quite the week at work; deadlines and meetings and projects, bosses trying to cram in as much progress as they could before the Christmas break, and Remus is exhausted. 
He’d barely uttered his “hello” upon getting home before you were suggesting ordering take away and watching a movie. A quiet night in, you had called it. It sounded like heaven.
Clad in comfies and lo mein on a plate, the two of you snuggled up on the couch. Plates ended up on the coffee table, legs were tucked underneath bodies, Remus’ head rested against your shoulder.
And though the world fell quiet, Remus never did fall asleep.
He’d completely melted into the couch at some point during the movie, now curled up on his side with his head on your lap as you card your fingers through his hair. Eyes closed in contentment, breathing evened in his ease.
He loves you. 
“I love you.” You murmur softly as if you read his mind, and Remus feels his lips curve into a smile, though his body was simply too heavy to offer you a proper response. “You work too hard, m’love.” 
He would have argued with you, or dismissed you immediately if you’d said anything of the sort when he first got home, but now he was trapped and complacent in your embrace.
“Always taking care of everyone else, aren’t you?” Your fingers brush through his hair again before trailing to his shoulder and down his arm as you speak. “You take such good care of me. I wish you’d let me take care of you, sometimes.” 
He really couldn’t help it then, he turned his head so he was looking up at you, offering you a warm smile as you tsked at him.
“Not even sleeping when you should be, Rem.”
“You take great care of me, dove.” He argues quickly, rolling onto his back so he could continue staring up at you more easily. “What do you call tonight?”
“I call tonight I was too lazy to cook and then got to watch my favourite Christmas movie.” You offer wryly, and Remus shakes his head reproachfully. 
“That’s not true at all. You knew I’d had a day, and made sure I didn’t have to think about anything but sitting my arse down on this sofa.”
Your lips purse as you trace a line down the side of his face with your finger. “That was one day.”
Remus hums in the negative. “No. It’s also the way you just happen to text me everyday around noon, when I happen to be scheduled for a break but usually happen to get too caught up in what I’m doing to realise. It’s also the way you claim that you have to work early in the morning when you notice me growing weary at the pub with my friends so that they don’t tease me for my old man tendencies. It’s the way you let me drone on and on about numbers and stats and editing that I know doesn’t interest you at all, just because you know it interests me. How could you say you don’t take care of me?” 
He watches you study his face for a few moments, expression unchanging even when you finally blurt “I liked talking to you better when you were sleeping and couldn’t argue with me.” 
Remus’ laugh echoed throughout your flat before he stretched out his limbs with a pleased hum. 
“Would you like it better if I went back to sleep?” 
“Yes, thank you.”
“See? There I go again,” he starts as he rolls back onto his side and you queue up another movie, “taking care of everyone else.” 
Remus’ eyes fall shut at the sound of your tinkling laughter.
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roosterforme · 2 days ago
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Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo
Length: 3200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.
"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 
He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.
"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.
LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.
With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"
Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.
"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."
He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.
Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.
-----------------------------------
You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.
"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.
It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."
While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.
You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.
You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.
When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.
"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.
"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."
Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."
"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."
You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."
"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."
You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"
"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.
You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?
Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.
You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.
When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.
"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.
What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.
You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.
The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.
When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.
--------------------------------
Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.
Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."
"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."
The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.
"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.
It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.
You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.
He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."
Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.
"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."
Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."
She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"
"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."
Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."
Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.
"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."
One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"
He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."
Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."
Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 
--------------------------------
Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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sttrawberries · 3 days ago
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‘’ The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing. ‘’ ¿? JSLSJSKSSJ
‘’ not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him’’ :D
‘’ You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second.’’ CUTEE
‘’ “You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.”
“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” KAJSAJSJSJAJ
‘’ finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.’’ oh :(
‘’ But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night. ‘’ I would even accept a whole book about them just full of moments like this
“After all, you gifted me something so…special.” (?
‘’It’s almost like you want to see me.” SHHH
“I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.” AAAAAAAAAAA
‘’ the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.’’ caught in hd jsjsjsj
‘’ He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.’’ I want to keep this little moment in a place where I can rewatch it every time I want
‘’ you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger.’’ aaaaAAAAAA
THESE TWO FLIRTING AND I FEEL LIKE I'M THIRD WHEELING
‘’ Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.’’ Aw :,)
‘’ Happy, but bittersweet.
You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending.’’ noooo :(
‘’ You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.’’ kssksksj
‘’ You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world.  He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.’’ I’m happy he’s going to race again but also I’m going to cry
To reply to your note in the beginning about being good at writing angst, I can tell now, I can feel it sksjsksk
‘’ Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.’’ MY HEART
‘’ It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.
Just you and Jason.’’ this whole scene was so pretty
‘’ Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower.’’ hehehe :D
Why did I think they were going to find something they won’t like once they get to his place, I hate it
‘’ You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by’’ HEHEHE :D
“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” I’m going to faint
‘’ The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?’’ I fainted I swear
‘’ You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms.’’ GIGGLING IN THIS VERY MOMENT, I LOVE THEM
“I want to turn you into a mess.” Please take everything
‘’ After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes.’’ Mission accomplished
‘’ You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.’’ KSJSKASJSJSJ
“I’m happy you’re here.” MY HEART
‘’ Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. (…) When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling’’ he’s so cute aaaaa
‘’You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.’’ How can I get inside this fic please I need answers
‘’ Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.’’ MY CRYINGGGG
‘’ He was more clingy than usual tonight.’’ I can’t help but worry about what’s about to come when I should be enjoying this
“When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.” Ugh no
‘’ Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.
Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.’’ Nooo:(
‘’ Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.’’ OH NONONO
‘’ It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.’’ SJSJJS I love him
I’m so happy he’s back racing
‘’ The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing. (…) You felt…small. (…) How far was this relationship going? (…) Should you follow him? (…) What about your job?’’ honey don’t go that way :(
‘’ (Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)’’ this man I swear
‘’ Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.’’ Stop aaaaa
‘’ “I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.’’ I’m happy he found some free time to call
‘’ Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.
Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too.’’ noooo JSJSSJSJ
‘’Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason’’ <3
Racing Hearts Pt. 4
f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader
A/N: hello my gremlins <3 i wanted to share with u guys that i successfully moved YAY so that explains the update being slightly behind and the less responses i’ve given to comments (i read them all i swear <3) BUT HERE IT IS \(^o^)/ i took way too long to edit and rewrite the way i believe the story should go, im having so much fun with this series and i want to thank all of u who are supporting it from the beginning or saw the updates as they came. ENJOY the fourth chapter of the Racing Hearts series (ALSO THERE’S 300 FOLLOWERS WOW 🥹 THANK U TO ALL THE PEOPLE THAT LIKE MY PAGE AND CONTINUE TO SUPPORT MY CRAZY SAD WRITING AND MY DRAWINGS i love reading your funny comments, unhinged reblogs, and talking about your favorite parts of the story, it really gave me the push to write and contribute to the jason todd community) and i just wanted to remind yall…i haven’t forgotten about that hurt/comfort tag :)
Check out the Racing Hearts masterlist! It shows all the updated chapters and upcoming ones <3
Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spicy if u squint, we’re hitting halfway thru the story so let me introduce what i do best…angst HAHAHA
Word Count: 4.1k
“In all of my career, I have to say that I never thought I would be standing here wearing…these.” Jason looked down to his feet.
The camera focused on the two of you standing next to one another, the lens following Jason’s stare toward the ground. The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing.
You sheepishly admired the shoes, proudly smiling back up to Jason. Bewilderment plastered on his face as he couldn’t believe you actually gifted him Lightning McQueen merch, not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him.
What a predicament he was in. He was definitely not offended when you told him how similar the red car and he were.
“It’s a small thanks from the company for completing your third interview with us.” You smiled brightly at Jason. “Also consider it as a way for us to say ‘good luck’ for your upcoming season.”
Jason couldn’t believe it as he laughed. No matter how much time he spent with you, you always surprised him in the best ways.
“Y’know, I thought the Cars jokes were going to fade out, but you’re a bad influence on my fans.” Jason lightheartedly teased you, stomping his foot enough to let the crocs light up.
You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second. You bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from smiling, internally promising yourself that you would make sure to get a picture of him later.
You already had his new contact picture picked out.
“I couldn’t think of any other way of showing you my support.” You nodded your head proudly.
“Really? Nothing else?” Jason’s eyebrow rose, his tone sarcastic.
“You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.” You smirked, watching the shoes sparkle.
“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” Jason looked at you in disbelief.
“Anyway! We’re closing this as the last part of our series, I’m glad you were able to be a guest before you get busy putting on the RedBull uniform again, I know your fans will really enjoy that—” You wrapped up the finale, finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.
But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night.
“This can’t be the last time I see you. You’re my favorite interviewer.” Jason lulled his voice, rephrasing your earlier comment back at you. “After all, you gifted me something so…special.”
You paused, shocked at Jason’s forwardness with you, the timber of his voice adding an underlying flirty tone to him.
You’ve never talked to him about the public appearance about the two of you. Could you go public?
It’s for the camera. You silently told yourself.
“You have to win for me to see you again.” You smirked, quickly playing along with his attempt to fluster you.
“That’s too easy, you could try to make this a little harder for me.” Jason chuckled lowly. “It’s almost like you want to see me.”
Oh my.
“So much talk for someone who hasn’t started his comeback season.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “You also didn’t start your last season smoothly, so don’t talk so confidently.”
“But who sat at my last press conference celebrating my win? I don’t end things so easily.” Jason tilted his head as he looked down at you, tension increasing. “I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.”
Jason winked at you, the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher between the RedBull Jason on camera and your Jason.
He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.
You calmly gave in, maybe it was for the camera or maybe it was for you.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, but I don’t think I could keep that a secret.” Your polite smile opposing Jason’s mischievous one. “I don’t think you realize but,” you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger. “I’m a reporter, I can’t keep that beautiful face to myself.”
“But I’m really good at keeping them.” Jason stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours.
His eyes beamed a playful hue to them.
You cleared your throat, looking at the camera woman who also stared in awe.
Crap, the office was going to get suspicious.
“You should focus on winning first before you make any promises.” You coughed, diffusing the atmosphere Jason created as the film crew watched. “Then call my business number and you don’t have to keep any secrets.”
Once the camera stopped rolling, you resumed your professionalism. Saying goodbyes and getting final pictures for the website and both social medias.
All the previous interviews went well. The fans saw Jason’s personality in action, gaining more attention and love for the racer. Jason’s management team was satisfied with you and the attraction he was gaining before the season started.
It gave him the right press he needed to put him in the spotlight.
After Jason left with his management team, you finalized the video upload that his company agreed to. Your draft for a new article about Jason to be edited and reviewed for the upcoming week. It was business as usual.
Getting work done during the day, then meeting Jason for the evening.
When you got back to your desk, you organized yourself to overlook the release date for the final interview and reviewed for the next big project to tackle now that your work with Jason was finished. Multiple meetings with project managers and your team.
Work was picking up for you, managing larger projects, interacting with larger faces.
Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.
Your phone lit up next to your laptop, distracting you from one screen to another.
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: pick you up at 6?
You smiled to yourself. Happy, but bittersweet.
You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending. You wished time could slow down.
—— “Gosh, you’re so clumsy.” You adjusted Jason’s helmet. All the time spent with him reflected in your familiarity with the motorcycle helmet.
“Only for you.” Jason stood there, leaning down to let you reach around his head. Watching you worry about the two of you.
Jason had kept his promise to pick you up.
Most of the time he waited on you to get back from work. Sometimes pushing the boundaries and secretly meeting you for a quick lunch. Meeting him far from where your coworkers frequented.
Your first encounters were hidden behind the idea of work, finding answers to questions for interviews, or suggesting new places to eat.
It was like you couldn’t be apart from one another.
Oh, how you can change a man.
You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.
But you gave into his every attempt. Not fighting against his clinginess.
Your roles would switch soon, he wouldn’t wait for you after tiring days of work. You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world.
He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.
You sat behind Jason, his body warming the front of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
Holding onto him close, wearing the helmet he got you, feeling his solid stomach shift the motorcycle as you rode around the city. You were getting used to your new lifestyle, despite the hidden secrets you shared.
He couldn’t announce a relationship after you were waiting for the last installment of your interviews.
The timing wasn’t right and the meetings this would cause for you and Jason were going to give you a headache.
You heard the motorcycle engine interrupt your thoughts.
Jason slowing at a red light. He stopped, placing his feet on the ground to stabilize the two of you while you waited. The red glow reflected onto Jason sitting in front of you.
The streets were almost empty. Gotham barely waking to the darkness, a city that never sleeps.
“Jay.” You hesitated behind him.
“Hm?” Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.
“I want to stay with you longer.” You calmed your voice, careful in verbalizing your feelings.
“You want to drive around more? I think we can drive by—“ Jason continued to rub your wrists. Cars passing in front of him, the opposing traffic keeping you still.
“No, I don’t want to leave you tonight.”
Jason paused, his hand resting on yours, no longer moving. If the cars weren’t in front of you, crossing the intersection, you would have thought time was frozen.
Jason tilted his helmet back, to get a look at you.
You don’t know what he was looking for, your face covered by a protective helmet like his was, but he found what he needed when the light turned green.
It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.
Just you and Jason.
“Want to come to my place?” Jason kept his black visor on you. “I have a killer TV to watch Cars on.”
You chuckled. Squeezing his waist a little more.
“Better have a good speaker for playing Life is a Highway.”
Jason smirked, hidden from your eyes as he watched you lean back into his warmth.
The humid air covering the two of you into summer clothing. Thinner fabrics and showing more skin.
Jason wore a simple fitted thin long-sleeve, matching the look of his helmet and gloves. It made a great view of his broad back.
A quiet exhale as he looked forward again, revving his engine to life to make a quick turn, opposite of your home.
You were racing the rain as Jason was taking you back, but after you spoke the magic words, how could he send you back home?
The dark summer rain clouds were no longer behind you, the two of you heading straight for them as you watch Jason take you down new streets, an unfamiliar path to Jason’s place.
“I don’t think you’ll make it to the living room before then.” Jason quietly spoke to the light drizzle hitting your bodies
“What did you say?” You couldn’t hear above the engine.
And he was right.
After you were soaked to the bone, fabric sticking to your form, water droplets falling down your skin. A glossy sheen from the harsh rain falling all around you.
Jason had pulled into his garage.
He was in the same state, wet clothes stuck to his skin. The water from you and the motorcycle dripping onto the concrete floor.
You pulled your helmet off, the only dry place.
Once Jason parked the bike, he took off his helmet, placing it on the nearest work table. Your body shivered as you threw your leg over to maneuver yourself off.
You looked down at your state, smiling in disbelief at being caught in the rain.
Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower. You internally thought to yourself. Excited to enter Jason’s place. A new location unlocked.
When you put your helmet next to Jason’s, you could finally take in all of him.
Black shirt tight from the weight of the water, his hands littered with scars, free from the gloves. His hair dry, but messy.
All his muscles more prominent.
You stood in awe, your chest rising from the breaths you took. Humid air invading the inside of the garage, elevated from warm summer nights.
The sight of Jason reminded you of the professional pictures taken of him, leaving his Formula 1 car after a race. He was sweaty, running his hands through his hair with a towel in hand.
After all the time you spent together, it was your favorite photo of him. You secretly saved it because there was something about the look on his face, happy to win, alive on the track.
How attractive he looked was a definite bonus in your opinion.
Jason glanced over to you, finally realizing the state the two of you were in. He slowly looked you up and down, lost in the same visual you were in awe of once you saw him.
You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by.
A slight warmth increasing on your face.
Jason stepped closer to you, hands grabbing for your waist to pull you in. His hands reaching under your chin to stretch your neck to adjust to his height.
Breaths mixing as your lips touched only from the movement of your lips unconsciously opening, ready to kiss him.
He waited.
Letting the pressure build as he spoke.
“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” Jason lifted you, letting you sit on the surface of his work table. His arm swooping everything off as he cleared enough room for you.
You could hear objects fall, but you couldn’t care less as Jason stepped between your legs. Quickly, but carefully rubbing at your legs with his palms, his hands getting closer to the blurs of where your thighs met your waist.
Everywhere felt great that you didn’t know where to focus.
The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?
You could only huff between the intensity he was igniting in you.
“Jay—inside—it’s cold.”
Despite your words, you didn’t bother to move. You kept touching, feeling everything before Jason lifted you again, the placement of his hands as he carried you, lifting the edges of your shirt.
The feeling of a mattress beneath you as you uncomfortably tried to peel the clothing off your body.
Jason chuckled at your frustration. You couldn’t bother to give him a snide remark as he also struggled to get your soaked clothes off.
When lifting the shirt didn’t work, you tried rolling the fabric, but it only bunched just below your sleeves.
You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms. Tangled in the mess you both created that you were left with a heavy shirt stuck around your biceps.
“Why is there always something stopping me from seeing all of you?” Jason laughed as he kneeled above you, his shirt completely off at some point along the way to his room.
“I don’t think a pair of wet clothes are going to stop you now.” You smiled at him, glancing up at his figure through the darkness. Only the city lights creeping through the blinds, illuminating his skin.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Jason yanked your entire shirt off your arms.
You sucked in a breath at his desperation, memorizing the look of his face as he leaned down closer.
“I want to turn you into a mess.” He whispered into your mouth, kissing down your body.
Overwhelming gasps and breaths left your mouth the more he touched your skin.
“I want to touch you too.” You exhaled, trying to coherently express yourself.
“Next time, sweetheart. I want to focus on you. Everything I want is you.” Jason moved your hair out of your face, stuck from the sweat covering your skin.
The night filled with you repeating Jason’s name, no distractions keeping that man off of you.
After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes. You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.
What you weren’t prepared for was just how normal his apartment looked. It felt like yours, but bigger, a little more luxurious like it was bought with the intention of having better quality to last longer.
You hoped he had no plans of moving anytime soon.
You stood in the kitchen in awe.
“You have a kitchen island.” You whistled in excitement. “Formula 1 money is good, huh? Maybe I need to pick up a Redbull uniform.”
Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. You continued to speak.
“No, I can’t steal your fame.” You whispered to yourself. Jason feeling the vibration of your voice the longer he leaned into your neck.
“I’m happy you’re here.” Jason mumbled into you, ignoring everything you said.
“Me too, I’ve been curious where you live.”
“I invited you before, but I guess we’ve always gone to your place.” Jason smiled into your skin. “What do you think?”
“Its very…Jason. I like it.” You glanced around.
You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.
His apartment was slightly bare, the space a little too large for the one man, but that was charming too. It felt like you were able to occupy that small empty space in his life.
When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling, you noticed the small knick-knacks you bought with him on your dates.
Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.
You felt cherished, looking at the physical representations of your memories together.
He grabbed you again, wanting the closeness. You fell back into him, the small paper frog in your hand, made from old receipt paper.
Jason resumed his prior back hug, absorbing your warmth.
He was more clingy than usual tonight.
“How was your trip to the charity today? I forgot to ask you about it at dinner, it must be hard to take a break from them to race again.” You leaned into him more.
Jason buried himself further. Not a great hiding spot since he was larger, but it was the thought that counted.
“I would love to hear about it.” You put the frog back on the shelf, letting it watch the two of you.
“It was good, I got to do one final check to make sure everything would be good when I’m gone. But…” Jason hesitated, squeezing you a little tighter.
You waited, rubbing circles on his forearm.
“I had noticed a lot of stuff come in, it’s a good thing, but it wasn’t like our usual haul. I didn’t recognize it as the stuff I brought over either.” Jason breathed, agitation filling his voice. “When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.”
Jason went silent. He was tense.
“I always tell that old man to fuck off. He never listens.” Jason sighed.
The last thing Jason wanted was another check from Bruce. Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.
Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.
“I can’t stand it.” Jason whispered. His eyebrows taut.
You maneuvered your head back to kiss him on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, I know that was the last thing you wanted to happen.” You soothed.
Jason leaned in for more kisses.
“Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.” He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Jason smiled into your skin, his voice returning to normal. “But looking at those damn crocs every morning makes me mad.”
You laughed as he grew bolder, pushing the topic aside as you leaned to the floor buried from Jason’s affection surge.
If he was deflecting, distracting himself from his hurt then you could let him kiss you a couple times to distract himself.
Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.
——
Once the public release of the third and final interview was released to your company’s website, the usual flood of comments embraced the look at the two of you.
You lost yourself in the positive comments, ignoring the negative ones, but that was the price of social media. It was the evils of publicity.
You read comment after comment about the excitement to watch the fresh new season. Iconic racers coming back to their playing field, excited to reveal new car designs, getting the opportunity to collaborate with anyone and everyone.
As the time for Qualifying reached you, the temperature fully warmed and Jason wasn’t next to you to enjoy it.
He had conferences, practice drives, and flights to catch. Now that he was past elimination, it was time to test his fastest time.
It wasn’t even the peak of the season, but you were missing him.
You sighed into your phone, a small vibration felt in your palm. A message from Jason appeared.
It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.
You smiled to yourself in your desk chair, but a small prick to your heart struck you.
The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing.
You felt…small.
The two of you hadn’t talked about what would happen once he started racing full-time again.
How far was this relationship going?
Would you follow him to his races around the world? Should you follow him?
Would you officially announce anything?
Was this an off-season romance? Only an off-season romance?
What about your job?
“Hey, we need to be there by one. Should we grab a quick lunch?” Your coworker called out to you, interrupting your pessimistic thoughts to yourself.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Meet you in the lobby?” You locked your computer, grabbing your key badge, ready to go out of the office.
You quickly typed out a message, taking advantage of Jason still on his phone.
You: Hey slow down try to give the other guys a chance
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)
You blushed, quickly putting away your phone to catch up with your team.
——
Jason’s performance during qualifying went as expected. He performed in P1, claiming and boasting as he usually did. His time seemed to be getting faster, raising the competition standards for everyone.
You only shook your head as you looked at the results on your phone, a small smile on your face.
Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.
You: I knew those crocs were good luck charms
No read receipt. No reply.
You kept yourself busy at work. Falling into a routine.
You checked your phone again during lunch. No messages.
Your apartment felt empty when you came home, no lovable man standing in the kitchen.
Still no reply from Jason. It would’ve made you sad if you weren’t so tired.
Your phone rang as you got ready for bed. Letting your head hit the pillow as you heard Jason’s voice in your ear.
“I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.
His voice was too soothing.
“That’s nice, Jay.” You slurred.
“Sweetheart? Are you awake—“ His voice started to get farther and farther.
You couldn’t keep your eyes open and your dreams filled with you sitting in the stands, watching Jason race.
Wind hitting your skin, watching the flags fly in the air, engines roaring past you.
He was so far away and kept driving further away from you.
You jerked awake. Looking for your phone in the blankets.
You had fallen asleep while on your first phone call with Jason since he left.
“Shit, I wanted to hear his voice.” You shook the blanket in the air until your phone fell from it.
You looked at your call history. Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.
Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too. You quickly opened your messaging conversation.
You (Yesterday): I knew those crocs were good luck charms
You (Today): i’m sorry I didn’t know it was a video call
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: don’t worry about it, I got to see u when your phone fell off your face
“Nooo!” You screamed to yourself.
Your face fell in your hands as you read the messages coming in.
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I got something out of it HAHAHA
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: let’s talk next time
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I wanna hear your voice
You sighed.
Getting up to start your weekend, putting Jason’s live race on the TV screen.
Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason.
Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15
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magicalrocketships · 15 hours ago
Note
pretty much every day i just think abt small!max saying "daniel, my daniel" when he sees dan. it's with me forever!! ok that's all
Okay, this awakened something in me, and I've missed Go Small! Max. Thank you, anon!
All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here.
Five times Max calls Daniel ‘my Daniel’ (and one other time)
One. 
"No," Max says politely but with zero room for negotiation. "I don't want that."
That is a plate of sandwiches that look decidedly soggy, oil softened vegetables leaking out of a thickly sliced sourdough. 
Daniel looks up at the waiter. "Could you do some sliced bread and butter instead?" he asks, moving Max's plate out from in front of him. He finds room for it on the table next to him and opens up the sandwiches, starting to scrape the vegetables out onto the plate. In hindsight, it was a bad order. He'd seen the tomatoes and thought that Max might like them. 
The waiter comes back over with two slices of bread and a pat of butter; Daniel makes yet more room on the table to butter the bread and cut it into halves, then deposits it in front of Max. He goes back to scraping the mediterranean vegetables out of the sandwich, dumps the bread on his plate, then starts to pull out the tomatoes so that they're separate from the rest of the vegetables. He offers the plate to Max, who stares at it dubiously. 
"You like tomatoes," Daniel says. 
"Hmm," Max says. 
Daniel doesn't force him. He sets the plate down and shows Max his fork in case he wants to try anything, then eats his own pesto chicken on toasted sourdough. 
Max picks at his bread and butter, then after eating a piece, he uses his fork to carefully eat two little roasted tomatoes. He clearly considers this enough vitamins and nutrients for this meal, and goes back to his bread and butter. He does, however, drink his apple juice. 
"Is the bread nice?" Daniel asks. His sandwich is decidedly mediocre. 
Max considers. "Yes," he says finally. "Thank you, my Daniel."
Something inside of Daniel's chest shifts. He's changed forever. 
"Good," he says, his voice catching. "I'm glad."
&&&
Two. 
Max hasn't wet the bed in weeks. The nightlights had finally managed to turn frequent into infrequent into barely ever. 
Barely ever isn't not ever, though. Daniel's woken up by an insistent little hand on his shoulder. "My Daniel," Max says, sniffling. 
Daniel blinks away sleep. "What's up?"
"The bed's wet," Max says. 
Daniel sits up. "That's okay, Maxy-Max," he says. "That's okay. Nobody's mad."
Max sucks in a ragged, tearful breath. 
Daniel kisses Max's flushed forehead. "Let's go get you cleaned up."
Max tucks his hand into Daniel's, sleepy and tearful, and holds on. 
&&&
Three. 
"I didn't know where you were," Max says reprovingly, once he's discovered Daniel face down on the sofa, snoring into a Pokemon cushion with the TV on low, and poked him awake. "There's no breakfast bowl."
That is a reprimand. The rule is, no TV before breakfast. TV is allowed with breakfast, but the new rule came into force last week when Max refused to eat anything because he wanted to watch Detective Pikachu through to the end even though his tummy was rumbling. So: no TV before breakfast. 
Daniel didn't go to sleep until after four, though, and he's only out here in the living room because he'd finally got bored of watching the time tick by on his sunrise alarm clock and had resigned himself to pulling an all-nighter. He'd come out here to drink coffee and watch whatever he could find on TV in the middle of the night, then had promptly passed out eight minutes into an old episode of Friends. 
"You have to turn the TV off," Max repeats. 
Daniel obliges. He still feels mostly asleep. He rubs his fists into his eyes. 
"Hmm," Max says. 
"I didn't sleep very well," Daniel says. He doesn't look at his watch but Max likes to be awake pretty early. As an adult Max likes to sleep late, but kid Max doesn't feel the same way. Consequently, Daniel's life has flipped to an early bird timetable. His body hasn't quite caught up, though, and there have always been nights where he's stared at the ceiling for far too many hours. "Might have to be careful with me today, champ." He does finger guns to try and make it cool, but he's just tired. 
Max blinks at him. "Okay, my Daniel." He turns on his heel and disappears out of the living room, before coming back in clutching Pikachu. "You can hug Pikachu," he says. There's a pause. "Can we have breakfast now?"
Daniel laughs. "Sure can," he says, wrapping an arm around Pikachu's round middle. "What are we having today? Would monsieur like a fish? An omelette?" He does his silliest French accent. It's very bad. Max laughs. He always has the exact same breakfast. Max likes cereal. Cereal, and his milk in his own special jug. He won't entertain anything else. "A croissant, Max? A fried egg? Un oeuf?"
"No, no, no," Max says. "Cereal, please."
"Coming right up, monsieur," Daniel says, and as Max pads into the kitchen in his pyjamas, Daniel's heart skips a little soft beat. 
&&&
Four. 
"Daniel, my Daniel," Max calls, barely even waiting for Daniel to get out of the car. Daniel's been into the village to get fresh bread for lunch, and he's come back with wine for him and his parents, a few bits and pieces his dad had wanted for their dinner that evening, and a new bat and ball game for if Max can be tempted out of the pool for any significant period of time. 
Daniel grabs the bags. "Maxy-Max," he calls back, finishing off with his best camel impression just to make him laugh. He wanders around to the back of the house to the pool, where his mum and dad are — predictably — in the water with Max. "Mum, Dad. Everyone present and correct, I see."
"Watch me," Max tells him, clambering out of the pool and getting water everywhere. "Look what I can do now!" 
"I'm watching," Daniel says. 
He watches Max sit down on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. He puts his hands above his head, shaped like he's going to dive, and Daniel knows what he's going to see. This is how he got taught to go into the water face first. His parents taught him and now they're teaching Max. 
Max tilts forward and forward until he's going into the water in a little seated dive. He emerges from the water, beaming, to Daniel's mum and dad clapping him, and Daniel cheering. Max swims over to the steps, and Daniel's waiting for him at the top of them. He gets a very wet and very excited hug. 
"Did you see?" Max asks. 
"I saw," Daniel says. He blinks away tears. He doesn't know why he's crying. "I saw, and you were brilliant."
"Good," Max says solidly, and follows Daniel inside, little wet footprints all the way after him. 
&&&
Five. 
Max is three. He's sleepy and full, a solid little lump in Daniel's lap. He's demanded three stories already before bed tonight, and Daniel's accommodating because in the morning this little version of Max might be gone. Daniel might get his seven year old Max back, or he might wake up to an empty bed and two missing cats, and Max having left to pick his life back up. 
Daniel kisses the top of Max's head. "This is the last story," he says, but he'll probably stretch it out until Max falls asleep right where he's sitting. There's no rush, anyway. There's nothing for either of them to do with their days. He turns the pages in their little book about kittens.
"My Daniel," Max says sleepily, a little garbled around his thumb. He sucks his thumb when he's three, and Daniel hasn't any interest in stopping him. He'll let Max have anything he finds comforting. He deserves the little kindnesses. 
"My Max," Daniel says softly. Max is falling asleep in his arms, his eyes drooping. It's time to put him to bed. "Time for sleep, my little Max. Time for bed."
Max is asleep by the time Daniel's carried him through into the bedroom. He doesn't stir as Daniel tucks him in, as he makes sure the nightlights are all turned on and that Pikachu's in easy reach. 
He stands in the doorway for a long time before he turns away. 
&&&
(And Another Time)
Daniel is so, so tired. His body feels heavy. His mum had gone with him to the doctor's yesterday, and they'd stopped at a pharmacy on the way home to pick up his new pills. She'd brought him a glass of water and a plate of crackers to have with the first dose. He'd downed them all obediently. 
They're not magic. He's not woken up this morning feeling happy again, or like his chest is more than the black, sucking hole where his heart used to be. 
He doesn't open his eyes. A tear escapes without his permission. He hates this. He hates feeling like he does right now, hates the nothingness, the weight of his body against the earth. 
"Hey, Daniel, my Daniel." It's Max, sleeping next to him for the fourth night in a row. He's big but he hasn't left. He always leaves but this time he hasn't. He's still here. He strokes Daniel's hair. "It is okay. I am here and your mum's here. We will make it all all right again. I promise, Daniel. You don't need to cry." He strokes his thumb under Daniel's eye, catching Daniel's stray tears. He wipes his thumb on the sheets then curls his hand into Daniel's. He laces their fingers together. "We've got you."
And Daniel, desperate, holds on. 
&&&
(thank you to Lin @andwegogreen for reading these as I wrote them tonight 🧡🧡🧡)
126 notes · View notes
mallowsweetmiri · 1 day ago
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I am foaming at the mouth after Potter!Reader x Remus. Like I’m literally obsessed, perfect characterisation.
I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are, would you mind doing a part 2? Maybe more of them sneaking around or James finding out or something I don’t know.
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Secret Potter!reader x Remus pt 2
Summary: Remus can’t stop thinking about you, you can't stop kissing him, and Theodore Pompous needs to hide from James
Warnings: smutty, mentions of consent, slight corruption kink
Word count: 3.5k
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Remus woke up the next morning and sat up in his bed for a full minute thinking, what the fuck have I done? He had fucked his best friend's little sister, and the worst part was, he wanted to do it again. Remus rubbed over his eyes as he got up to use the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and tried to justify what had happened. It wasn't his fault that you teased him all weekend- with a surprising amount of stealth considering James was almost always around the two of you- and then made him feel your soaking panties when he tried to ask for your consent.
"Jesus fucking christ," Remus cursed, grabbing the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. He had to get a grip. By the time he had brushed his teeth, showered, and gotten dressed, it was lunch hours. Remus and the marauders strutted cheerfully down to the Great Hall, despite being at a party the night before. This was routine. Soon they'd be scarfing their faces with toast and sausage and sandwiches.
You had woken up a few minutes later and ended up walking to the Great Hall with Marlene and a few other girls. You were mildly hungover, though by this hour, you were ready to eat. When you walked through the doors, you spotted Remus immediately. He was already watching you as you walked towards the table, sitting down next to James as you did every morning.
"Mornin'," James greeted you, smiling through a mouthful of toast. You raised your brows and tried not to laugh for two reasons. James was staring at you like an idiot, and Remus was staring at your tits.
"Good morning," you laughed, hiding the smile on your lips. You started to fill your plate, intentionally looking away from Remus. He seemed to be nervous. Then you felt James fingers pull back your hair away from your neck.
"Y/N, do you have a hickey on your neck?" James sputtered, moving in closer to stare at it. Your eyes shot up to Remus who was currently looking away from you and your brother.
"So what," you scoffed, fussing his hand away. "You're the one who reminded me of my crush on Theodore. Now you're mad at me for it?"
Remus had to admit, you were a quick thinker. James' face turned a violent shade of red as he shot up to locate Theodore Pompous at the Ravenclaw table. When Remus met your eye, the two of you almost burst out laughing at James' reaction before you sprung up to grab his arm.
"James," you scolded, trying to stifle a laugh. "Seriously, stop. You can't just berate Theodore. That's so rude and there's no reason to." James shook his head at you with an incredulous look.
"No reason-"
"James," Marlene shouted, standing up as well. "Stop it. All of us are tired of you being such a dick to Y/N. You don't see her reacting like this when you have a bit of fun." The other girls murmured in agreement as James' eye twitched.
"Yes, but thats different-"
"Why?" Marlene raised her brow, "Because she's a girl?" The was a series of oooh's and cackles from Sirius and Peter before James begrudgingly sat down and passed a dirty glance your way. At least he was settled for now. James wouldn't continue to press you with Lily and the other girls at your defense.
Lunch went on and Remus came to the conclusion that he was utterly obsessed with you. He wondered if you were still teasing him or if it was just your body taunting him as his eyes kept finding their way to your chest. You had always been drop dead gorgeous. This was fucked. There was no way he’d be able to keep his eyes from wandering to you, and there was even less of a chance that he’d be able to go to whole week without fucking you at least once. He tried to feel bad about it, but that wasn't the case. He wanted you, and there really wasn't anything that was going to stop him from seeing you again.
Remus decided to approach this logically. If he wanted keep fucking you, he'd have to court you. He wouldn't mind that. You enjoyed literature, you were funny, and you were one of the most talented witches in the school. And you were his best friends brother, if he wanted to fuck you today, he'd have to do it in secret to avoid an interfering and angry James.
That's why when he found you studying alone in the library that afternoon, he took the opportunity.
"Hello," Remus cleared his throat, approaching your desk. "Mind if I join you?" Your eyes peered up from your papers momentarily, just enough to acknowledge his presence.
"Sure," you hummed, dipping your quill in the inkwell. "As long as you don't distract me from my work."
Remus huffed out a laugh and pulled a chair up to your table. Even sitting down, his frame towered over yours. You tried to continue writing, but the task felt futile as his knee rested just inches from yours. You sighed and put your quill down, turning to face Remus. His face wore a smile as he threw his hands up in defense.
"Hey, I wasn't even doing anything," he chuckled, watching as you rolled your eyes. A smile crept up to your lips.
"Yeah, yeah, Remus," you grumbled. "Did you want to talk about something?" He huffed out another laugh and you felt his breath on your face, the close proximity making your stomach do a flip. In the low lighting, he looked heavenly.
"Yea, actually. I did want to talk to you about something," his voice lowering as he leaned in. You narrowed your eyes at him as the smirk on his face stayed put. He thought he was hot shit and maybe he was right about that, but you wouldn't let him play with you.
"Hmm, and what would that be?" you asked innocently, looking up at him with your signature doe eyes. He scoffed out a laugh.
"Well, love. To be honest, I can't stop thinking about you," he purred, his arm slinging over the back of your chair as he leaned in even closer. You stifled the urge to press your legs together as his hand played with the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing it in between his fingers.
"Can't stop thinking about how good the sex was?" You teased, leaning in with a mischievous lip bite. This made Remus laugh and you blushed at his genuine smile.
"Straight to the point then," Remus chuckled, looking around the library. "Listen, I don't want to be disrespectful-"
"Okay, let me cut you off right there," you said sternly, pushing your finger into his chest. "If you're going to be scared of my brother, then this isn't going to work. I'm looking for someone who will fuck me and not hold back. If you can't do that, then we shouldn't do this." You finished, turning back to sit properly in your chair. Remus' hand stopped you by the shoulder.
"Love, if I cared about your brother right now I wouldn't be here telling you how badly I need to fuck you again," Remus whispered quickly, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second. Your face flushed immediately as the want between your legs throbbed again.
"Oh," was all you could make out. His smirk annoyingly made another appearance as he chuckled lightly at you, again. His thumb rubbed over the cap of your shoulder as you looked at him with a permanent blush, your lips parted slightly. The smirk slowly faded off his face as he stared at you. He couldn't focus while you were looking at him like that. With that blush on your cheeks, and those plump, pink lips.
"So what's your plan then?" You said, snapping Remus out of his trance. He sat up straighter.
"Meet me in the prefect's bathroom at 9:30," he instructed, his hand moving off your shoulder as he stood up. You smirked up at him as he moved his chair back to the table next to yours.
"I'll be there," you replied, turning back to your notes.
"See you then," Remus smiled, leaving before he lost control and bent you over the table.
Later that night
You padded lightly through the hallways. Curfew wasn't for another 30 minutes, but you tried to stay quiet. Your body buzzed with excitement as you padded up the staircase to the fifth floor. It turned you on that Remus was using his prefect privileges to fuck you in private, and it turned you on even more knowing there was a giant bathtub in the middle of the room. You chuckled lightly to yourself as you came onto the floor, Remus leaning against the wall near the statue. His eyes found your hips as you approached him.
"Hi," you whispered, stepping softly towards him.
"Hi beautiful," he muttered, pushing off the wall to come towards you. You weren't expecting him to kiss you, so a gasp escaped you when he surged forward to press his lips against yours. He grabbed your cheeks to deepen the kiss hungrily. You moaned into him as your fists clasped the front of his shirt, his prefect badge moving with the fabric.
"We should go inside," you gasped, pulling away from his irresistible lips. He hummed in agreement, not quite looking at you. His hands were gripping tightly on your hips like they did the previous night, as if he could barely contain himself. It took a moment but Remus led you through the doors and into the bathroom, dimly lit from the moon and enchanted colored lights. You bit your lip as you watched the water run from the faucets and into the bath, filling the room with steam.
"Let's take this off," Remus purred, coming from behind to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of relief as he sucked down on your sweet spot, his hands running under your shirt to lift it over your head. You happily obliged and felt Remus groan into your neck as he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You knew this would drive him crazy, and hearing him groan in your ear made you pool between your legs. He pulled your shirt off and spun you around, leaving no time before dipping down to kiss you again. You could hardly think as Remus wrapped his arms around your body, burying into the kiss like he didn't need air. It was mesmerizing, the way your body fit against his. The two of you kissed like that for a while, the steam eventually pooling over both of your skin. It took a few minutes for Remus to stop kissing you, humming multiple times into your mouth before he finally pulled away.
"Rem," you groaned, tugging on the buttons of his shirt to take it off. He was practically soaking through his shirt anyway.
"Let's get in the water."
The two of you stripped and sunk slowly into the bath, Remus' hands pulling you into his lap. When your backside made contact with him, you gasped. His length pressed against you and you were suddenly reminded of how he stretched you out last night. You were glad to be soaking in a hot bath. You barely had time for another thought when he connected his lips with your skin, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as he massaged your thighs.
"Fuck," you groaned as his hands came up to grasp your breast. He hummed in response and bit your earlobe, earning a roll from your hips. His fingers slipped down between your legs, teasing you gently.
"Y/N," Remus breathed, pausing his kissing and earning a hum from you in response. "I want to eat you out."
He didn't wait for your response as he lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the tub, dropping down to his knees and moving between your legs.
"Remus- oh," you moaned as his mouth connected with your clit. You instantly gripped his hair, your head thrown back in an intense wave of pleasure. Remus was making you feel good, and by the way he was groaning into your core and wrapping his hands around your waist, you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself too. You couldn't form words and ultimately found yourself on your back. Remus shifted up higher to kiss your clit deeper, his tongue licking and dipping into your core. His hands stayed put on your hips, his mouth working overtime to send you over the edge.
"Fuck, please Remus," you gasped, you legs locking over his shoulders and bucking up into his face. He only huffed in response as his hands snaked under your back, pulling you deeper into his mouth. You twitched in his grasp, an orgasm teetering as his tongue swiped over your clit.
"So close, Rem," you whine, gripping his curls tighter. Remus could feel you pulse under his tongue, and it took every ounce of control for him to pull away. "Wh-what?" you whine, immediately sitting up to see Remus. He sat there with his arms linked under your legs, his smirk covered in slick down to his chin.
"You want to come for me, Y/N?" Remus teased, leaving wet, open kisses on the inside of your thighs. You whined and he chuckled, looking up at you wickedly through his kisses. "Do you?" He prompted again, moving to the other leg. You groaned with desire.
"Yes, Remus. Please," you cried, tugging on his hair to come towards you again. He hummed out a chuckle into your skin.
"Tell me how badly you want it," Remus challenged you, moving his kisses closer to your center.
"Please, Remus. I want you so badly. I need you. So badly, Remus. Please," you whined, falling on your back and continuing to grasp at his head. You felt the vibrations of his chuckle next to your clit.
"Such a good girl," he mumbled, planting a kiss right onto you. You let out another guttural whine as he continued to tenderly lap at your clit and your entrance, slowly savoring your wetness. You felt your orgasm building once more, sending jolts through your body that increased in force with every movement of Remus' tongue. Your hips were bucking badly, and Remus tightened his grip on you to bury himself once again.
"I'm going to come," you gasped, barely lasting a second longer before spilling into his mouth. The intensity felt doubled this time, and Remus ate you up graciously. You were almost embarrassed by how hard your orgasm had hit you, but Remus didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was moaning into your core as he finished you up.
"You taste so fucking good," Remus groaned as he climbed over you, his tip pressing against your entrance and slipping in momentarily through the slick. You gasped and felt yourself clench around him, still sensitive from his mouth. Remus' hand found the back of your head as he pushed himself into you fully. You gasped and whined simultaneously, digging your nails into his biceps. "Fuck, Y/N. You feel even better." He began to move in and out of you at a torturous pace, his tip burying deep within you. Just when you thought he had bottomed out, he bucked into you with force and moved even deeper inside of you. You let out an unprompted noise which seemed to please Remus as he started pounding into you, forcing noises out of you that were uncontrollable.
"F-fuck, R-remus," you said, your words bouncing with the pace of his thrusts. It was unrelenting, but you were so soft from his mouth that you started to near another orgasm. Your fate was sealed when his thumb came down to find your clit, the pressure of his cock adding to the pleasure immediately.
"So pretty, Y/N," Remus moaned, dipping to press a kiss to your lips. You hungrily returned it, the two of you moaning into each other's mouths as Remus' thrust slowed and deepened. "So. Fucking. Beautiful." He pounded into you, clenching his jaw as he fucked the life out of you. You were tightening, and tightening, and tightening until the coil in your stomach snapped and a rush of release pulsed through your walls. Remus groaned loudly as you felt him collapse into you, his thrusts deep and followed by spurts of warmth inside of you. He thrusted into you lazily, kissing you and rubbing your hips with his thumbs. Like much of the night, the two of you stayed kissing unhurriedly like this. It was only when someone knocked on the door that the two of you moved from your position.
"Thank Merlin you locked the door," you muttered, pulling on your pants after casting a dryer spell over you.
"Heh, I actually didn't. It's just common practice after prefect rounds," Remus laughed sheepishly. "It must be the end of the next shift." Your eyes widened at this as the two of you finished pulling on your clothes and drying off perspectively. You kept close to Remus' back as the two of you moved to leave the bathroom. You heard Remus say something to the other prefect but you didn't look up as you followed Remus out. He ushered you towards the staircase and muttered in your ear, "That was Theodore Pompous." You stifled a laugh as the two of you climbed the stairs. Remus was grinning at the coincidence and teasing you about your old crush. The two of you laughed and blushed and talked quite comfortably next to one another as you neared the Gryffindor tower.
"Do you think anyone will be in the common room?" you asked, lowering your voice and letting go of his hand. Remus shrugged and walked behind you, guiding you to the portrait hole.
"I don't think so. There's an early quidditch practice tomorrow and it's already past curfew," he muttered, giving the fat lady the password and climbing through to the common room. Remus' face hardened when he saw James sitting on the couch, his head turned towards them. He stood up when he saw you enter behind Remus.
"Y/N, what were you doing out past curfew? I was worried. I waited up for you," James frowned at you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. You felt your face flush red, realizing why you were out late. You might as well have been wearing a sign that said we just fucked. Thankfully Remus was exceptionally good at drying charms. 
"I found her sneaking around Ravenclaw Tower," Remus said with a nonchalant nod of the head. "Thought I'd bring her back." 
"Wasn't your shift done thirty minutes ago?" James questioned, stepping closer to Remus who showed no signs of embarrassment or concern.
"Yes, but I told Theodore I'd take his shift in exchange for him doing mine on Sirius' birthday," Remus shrugged. Your mouth formed a straight line as you looked at him. Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? James looked at Remus incredulously.
"Why would you trade shifts with him," James hissed, narrowing his eyes towards him. You started to walk towards your dorm.
"Well, I'm back," you dismissed James with a yawn. "Goodnight, Jamie." James huffed and stepped in front of you, grabbing your hands.
"Y/N, you know I love and respect you," he stared, causing you to roll your eyes by instinct. "But I just want you to be safe. Don't stay out late for some prat who you've hardly even talked to before." You sighed as he looked at you with those James Potter eyes that reminded you of home.
"I know. I'm sorry I worried you," you apologized, looking sympathetically to him. "I'm gonna go to sleep now. Okay?" James let out a sigh of relief as he gave you a hug.
"Goodnight," James called as you went up the stairs.
"Goodnight," you called back, sending Remus a wave. Remus waved subtly back to you before sighing and rubbing his eyes. He hated lying to James, and he hated even more how much he felt like he was corrupting his best friend's little sister. He knew it wasn't true though. You had shown him how badly you wanted him, how much of a slut you were for him... Fuck. Remus wanted you for himself and he wanted you for a long time. He made a vow to ask you out by the end of the week, and to do it with James' blessing.
"Sorry I got a little heated, Moony," James said, turning to face Remus. "I just can't stand the thought of her alone with some random git. Thanks for bringing her back." Remus hummed and nodded.
"It's no problem."
The two of them went up to their dorm and crashed respectively onto their beds. Sirius and Peter were already asleep. Remus laid awake again thinking about you. He thought about your face when you came, and the way you blushed when he teased you. He fell asleep dreaming of you during the summertimes when you would read outside with him and woke up the next morning with a plan. 
121 notes · View notes
carbondioxidewater · 19 hours ago
Text
Make A Move (Pt. 5)
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footballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader
genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst
warnings: none so far
word: 3.1
(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)
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On sunday morning, you woke up early, even though you hadn't been sleeping much. The events of the previous day came back to you one after the other. First, you thought about the game and Sukuna's impressive skills in it.
You reflected on the motorcycle ride with him and how he drove you to the Rainbow Bridge just so you could see the city at night. That must've been one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you. You turned over on your side in your bed, smiling.
And then you remembered how you almost kissed and how he treated you completely different later at the party than when you were alone. A feeling of embarrassment washed over you again at the thought that everyone present had noticed Sukuna not wanting to kiss you. Not that you were dying to feel his soft lips, probably salty from the sweat - no, that wasn't it. Because even if that were the case, it was more the fact of how and why he rejected you that was bothering you.
But asking him was out of the question. After all, you still had enough pride left to not give him that pleasure. After all, he wasn't obliged to kiss you. You shouldn't let anything show, otherwise he might get the wrong idea. And with that mentality, you went to your first lecture on Monday.
After the lecture, you entered the cafeteria. Today they cooked vegetarian pasta again and it always tasted delicious. You grabbed a plate, had it filled up, and walked over to the where the silverware was. As you were putting down your tray, someone spoke up directly from the side.
"I got your message, by the way."
You weren't startled this time.
"Did you know that people usually greet each other before starting a conversation?" you expressed calmly and Sukuna burst out laughing. You always managed to entertain him.
"Sorry, hi princess."
"Hi." you said quietly, a gloomy feeling at the nickname. "What message?"
"Yuji told me he should wish me 'good luck' from you."
"So?"
"Well, I certainly was lucky, after all you really came. But..." he didn't finish his sentence, obviously waiting for your reaction. Was he really trying to flirt with you again? This man was difficult.
You took your tray and moved towards one of the tables. Of course Sukuna followed you and sat down on the opposite chair. You sighed.
"But what, Sukuna? What do you want?" you asked in annoyance.
"You should give me your number. I couldn't even make sure you got home safe on Saturday." he flashed his shiny white teeth at you.
"Why do you care? I went home with my friends." you said, but not snippy, more in a neutral tone.
"I know that." he simply returned and didn't seem to have anything else to say. He just looked at you.
Seriously? He doesn't mention what happened at all? Well, if he can act like nothing happened, so can you.
"I don't like being watched while eating." you said bluntly and Sukuna couldn't help but smile.
"Why, are your table manners so terrible?" he countered. You puffed.
"Aren't you hungry?" you then asked, whereupon he told you that he had already eaten.
"I saw you and with you the opportunity."
"The opportunity for what?" you then questioned.
"Asking you for your number."
"You have my address already, that should be enough."
You would not let him get any closer to you.
He chuckled and you ate the first forkful of pasta.
"So you don't want to give it to me?" he carried on.
"Obviously not."
"Okay, I'll find a way. Oh, and enjoy your meal." he winked at you. And then he stood up and left the table.
Finally you could eat in peace.
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You didn't see him for the next few days, which gave you enough time to concentrate on your studies. It was thursday evening and you had to give in your assignment for neurolinguistics, the due date was today. You quickly finished explaining how the priming effect works, when suddenly Utahime entered your room with the mail in her hand.
"Oh, are you finished for today already?" you asked, referring to her job, to which she nodded.
"But look at this!" she said, astonished, and waved a letter in front of your face.
The letter was addressed to you, but had no sender. Strange.
You opened it and the content was a single sheet of paper with a few lines written on it.
"You're right, your address is enough. If you don't want to give me your number, I'll have to try this way ;)"
Your face immediately heated up, you never thought he would go out of his way like that. But what was he doing that for? What was his ulterior motive?
Utahime saw your shocked face and read the letter. Then she laughed.
"Wow, he's really trying. Have you eaten yet? Should we order something?"
And together, you ended the evening with a juicy pizza.
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But on the next day, you found a note in your locker too. You opened the folded paper and it said:
"Meet me under the bleachers"
Oh God, your heart was pounding. Just what was he thinking?
You decided to meet him at the stands to ask him to stop this whole thing. Even though you were really flattered by the attention, it still hurt your ego that he apparently thought he could win you over like that. Was it working? Maybe a little, but he didn't have to know that. And you definitely wouldn't fall for it any further.
When you finally got there, there was no sign of him. You asked the few players practicing on the field about him.
"Sukuna? No, he's not here. As far as I know he has a philosophy class right now."
Philosophy? You didn't even know that was his second subject. But that explained why he was around you so often, because philosophy and linguistics were taught in the same building. But why did he send you here then? Nothing he did made sense and you were slowly getting fed up with this chaos.
You were just on your way back into the building when all of a sudden, you bumped into someone's back on accident. He turned around and to your surprise, it was the menace himself.
"Careful." he laughed lightly. But you were a bit pissed at him right now and just walked past him. He walked after you.
"Hey, where are you going?" he yelled.
"I don't feel like playing your games. Find someone else to annoy." you said without even looking at him.
He grabbed your wrist and brought you to a stop. When you tried to escape his grip, he blocked you with his arm and caged you in.
"Calm down. What's going on with you?" Sukuna exclaimed.
"No, what's going on with you? Why do you leave those notes in my locker, arrange a meeting and then don't come?"
"That's what it is about?" He chuckled. "Now do you see how complicated it is? If I had your number, you would have known when I wrote the message."
You were flabbergasted, was that really his plan behind all this? To show you the need to exchange numbers?
"Or you can just write the time next time!" you spat out.
"Next time? So you like when I leave you letters?" he smirked and upset you with his presumptuous words.
"Don't twist my words..." you pouted and looked to the side. He let you go now, you had calmed down.
"Then what do you say: We have another game next Friday. If we win, I get your number, if we lose... well, you can choose."
"Why do you want my number so badly?" you probed.
"Because I like you. You're fun to be around."
This confession knocked you off balance, but you swallowed your speechlessness. In the end, two could play that game.
"Okay, if you lose, you'll never ask me for my number again." You smiled mischievously and he followed suit, tilting your chin upwards with his big hand before responding.
"It's settled then."
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You stayed at Shoko's for the weekend, since you wanted to binge-watch the new season of your series. Utahime didn't like the show and had to work anyway, so it was just the two of you tonight.
After a few episodes, however, it turned into a deep talk session. You told Shoko everything that had happened with Sukuna so far and she reprimanded you for getting into this 'pact'.
"His team will win either way, the only ones who would have a chance against them are the UOT." she explained and you thought about her words.
UOT? Of course! They say their quarterback is on par with Sukuna. They are the biggest rivals!
"Are they gonna play against each other too?" you wondered.
"I think not until the very end of the season. That's the most important game after all."
The end of the season... So in about 8 weeks. But wait a minute...
"How do you even know that?" you stared at Shoko in amazement and she looked up at the ceiling.
"A few of my high school friends are on this team. Utahime knows them too."
"What? Why am I only finding out about this now?" you shifted in your seat, grinning at her. She shrugged.
"I never thought it was important. After all, you haven't been interested in football until now."
You nodded. Then your phone rang. You took it from the coffee table and saw that it was Utahime, but before you could even pick up, she already hung up.
"Who was it?" Shoko interrupted and you told her, but you two didn't think much of it.
You thought that maybe she called you on accident, so you sent her a message asking "are you okay?" and checked her location. She was still at the hotel. A few minutes later, she finally replied and confirmed that everything was indeed alright.
"Okay she just replied, she's fine. But next time we're all together, you two have to tell me more about your mysterious old friends." You waggled your eyebrows and Shoko laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, even if there's not really much to tell."
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And then you were back in the stadium, this time, on your campus. It was a home game and the people on the stands were louder than at the last game, but this time you secured yourselves better seats. You were sitting in the front row now!
At the opening, all of the players walked onto the field and turned to the audience. Sukuna waved at the big crowd, his eyes moving from left to right, and finally rested his gaze on you, a small smirk spreading on his face. And then it was kickoff. As always, Sukuna's leading skills ensured a successful first half. It was clear that the team had been a unit for a long time, as well as they complemented each other.
After the first half, there was the usual break and you used it to quickly go use the bathroom. The line was long though, of course you weren't the only one who had to go after such a long time. But luckily, it quickly emptied and after you were done, the break was almost over. While the water was tingling on your hand, you heard a few girls coming in, chattering. You recognized the cheerleaders, one of them was the blonde girl named Manami.
"So, how are things going with Sukuna now?" asked Manami's friend.
At the mention of that name, you became very wary. You felt like you were eavesdropping, but you couldn't turn off your hearing sense after all.
"I think he likes me." Manami said the words dreamily, but you couldn't listen to their conversation any longer, because if you stayed at the sink for too long, you would attract their attention. You dried your hands and then went out the door.
What was their true relationship to each other? She thinks he likes her? What is he doing for her to think that? You had a weird gut feeling on your way back and when your friends noticed, they asked if you were okay. You lied to them and, thank goodness, that feeling disappeared as soon as the second half of the game started again.
And as Shoko predicted, your team won. The others weren't bad by any means, but Sukuna isn't feared in the world of football for nothing. He once again secured a great victory and after the game ended, his teammates all ran towards him to celebrate.
They picked him up and carried him to the front of the stands while you and the others clapped for their success. Many shouted his name, others shouted for the other players, but his grinning, smug look was only on you.
His comrades let him down and the crowd slowly started to leave the stands as Sukuna continued to keep you under his spell. He stepped on a bench in front of it, leaned his elbow on the railing of ​​the stands and pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He pressed it between his fingers proudly and held it in front of his slightly tilted face, a mischievous smile on it, so that you could make out the numbers on the note.
You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to see more clearly and as the digits became visible, you recognized them as your phone number.
How did he-
You were about to ask him that, but Aoi intervened, jumping onto the bench and putting his arm over Sukuna's shoulder, happily dragging him into the locker room.
When you finally came down the stairs, you decided to wait for Sukuna outside. Your friends were talking about something you didn't pay attention to.
Then the door opened and you walked towards Sukuna expectantly, but he was stopped by Manami at that moment. You saw her putting her arm around his and how she walked to the parking lot with him. That made you abandon the whole plan and you went back home with your girls.
When you got there, you got a message from an unknown number.
unknown number: not even curious how I got your number?
That was definitely Sukuna. Your mood immediately worsened. You just couldn't figure him out. You threw your phone on the bed and made yourself something to eat. Cooking should calm you down, so you put on some music and started chopping. It took half an hour before you got the motivation to text him back.
you: aren't you out with the cheerleader right now?
You sent the message and threw your phone away from you again. Why had you been so direct? You were about to take your phone to delete the message, but Sukuna had already replied.
unknown number: oh you're curious about something else I see. u stalking me? ;)
you: no, I just saw you two together after the game. hope you had fun.
unknown number: yea sure had.
you: good for you.
Somehow the message came across as more bitter than you anticipated, and Sukuna also noticed the harsh tone.
unknown number: wait, you weren't seriously thinking I was after you, were you?
you: of course not? I was being genuine.
You were not. He typed.
unknown number: well then, that's good.
And then you left him on read. Asshole.
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The whole weekend was spent trying to figure Sukuna out, but as much as you tried, his motives remained unclear to you. You even started listing different possibilities together with Shoko and Utahime, but for every idea there was something in Sukuna's behaviour that didn't add up. You set up three theories:
REASON NUMBER ONE: He really just likes you platonically. But then why did he flirt with you sometimes, why did he almost kiss you, why did he put in such an effort into getting your number?
REASON NUMBER TWO: He was just trying to get into your pants. Maybe there was something going on with this girl, Manami, and he didn't want her to find out. But then why did he never make a move on you like that? Apart from the teasing, he's never been disrespectful or dirty towards you.
And, this was the most unlikely one, but,
REASON NUMBER THREE: He had a serious interest in you. But then, why wouldn't he just be straight forward? Why was this girl all over him at all times? And why didn't he do something against it? Or was he keeping the both of you as mere options?
Whatever it was, it was getting on your nerves. And you decided you wanted to make clear to him that the both of you should either be friends or nothing.
You were just taking a few things out of your locker when there was a sudden bang next to you. You took the last book out of it and then looked at the source.
"Boo." Sukuna called out, pressing his lower arm against the locker. He was wearing a simple white sweater with the sleeves rolled up, but it was so tight that it highlighted his broad, big chest. His hand was clenched into a fist, which meant that you had a perfect view of his flexing muscles as well.
You gulped and tried not to let on how attractive that was to you, because you couldn't afford to seem weak in front of him.
"Wow I'm so scared." you commented and closed your locker.
"I bet you are, now that I've got your number." he claimed. Then you faced him.
"Where did you get it from anyway?" you wondered. You still didn't have a single clue.
He smiled wickedly again.
"Why don't you ask your friend Utahime?"
Safe to say that's not what you expected coming out of his mouth.
"You're lying." you doubted.
"Why would I do that?" he replied with a foxy grin.
You took a deep breath.
"Alright, I'm gonna ask her later. But can we stop with the constant banter, it's giving me a headache."
"Oh, why's that?" he came closer, but you pushed him away again.
"It was fun in the beginning, but it's getting annoying now. Let's just be normal friends." you proposed.
"Friends?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow gently, considering your words and quirking a small smile. "You wanna befriend me?" he seemed oddly delighted about that. You didn't know if he was poking fun at you or not.
"Yeah, isn't that what you wanted?" you inquired, dumbfounded by his reaction.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Alright, let's be friends then." he stared down at you, a gleam in his eyes that you couldn't make out.
Yes, it would definitely be better to be friends. That way, he wouldn't constantly irritate you with his mixed signals.
And with that, your friendship with the star player began.
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RAHHH he's so confusing!!! Wdym you send me LETTERS to contact me?!?!?! And then say you're not after me? ARGHHH
What do you think his intentions are? As always, reblogs and comments are so so appreciated! I wanna hear your thoughts about it so bad! <3
taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @mysteriaqueen @rebirthbunbun @inflatabledinosaurs19
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nadvs · 18 hours ago
Text
   ⊹ ❀ ︵ ∘  destined ⟢
pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader
summary after you find out you’re pregnant, you tell zach and prepare to share the news together.
this is a continuation blurb of this two-shot! requested by anon.
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You impatiently check the time on your phone again. It’s been fourteen minutes since you sat down in the private room at the doctor’s office.
Your eyes travel over the lockscreen photo from your wedding half a year ago. In the captured moment, Zach is holding Ella. Her left arm is around her father’s shoulders and her right is around yours.
Her poofy dress is sparkling under the warm banquet hall lights, her smile just as big as yours and Zach’s.
You’d done a lot of happy crying that day, but a moment after the photo was taken, you’d never had tears of joy quite like this.
Ella had run off after the shutter of the photographer’s camera and Zach pulled you in by the waist, his lips soft against your cheek, murmuring just loud enough to be heard over the music and people dancing around you, “You know what she asked me this morning?”
“What?”
“Since I get to call you my wife, if she can call you her mommy.”
You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, tearing up as he held you tighter. She had just turned seven years old and still didn’t talk about her biological mother all that much. She also hadn’t called you anything other than your name.
Zach had told you he’d be comfortable with it if Ella grew to want to call you her mom. You’d told him you’d be, too, but that you hoped she didn’t think you were ever trying to replace anyone.
“Really?” you said, your hand over your heart. “What’d you say?”
“I said she can,” he replied. You pulled back to meet his eyes, beaming up at him, almost in disbelief that three years ago, you’d knocked on his door for the first time. You could have never known the turn your life would take.
“You love her like she’s yours,” he said, his eyes glossy, “and she loves you the same way. I’m so happy she has you.”
You squeezed his hand. He’d already reassured you many times that you weren’t taking the place of Ella’s mother or being a substitution for what she lost. Instead, you’re an addition to their lives.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said. The tears he was trying to hold back fell from his eyes and he chuckled defeatedly. “Who’s cried more today, do you think?”
“I’d say it’s even,” you said with a laugh.
The door opening pulls you out of the memory. You meet the doctor’s eyes, your heart thrumming.
You and Zach had been trying for a baby for four months now. You didn’t even have to ask Ella what she thought about gaining a sibling. She’d been asking for one for a long time now.
After a string of failed attempts, you prefer not to tell Zach every time you take a test. You can see the disappointment in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it behind a gentle, “The baby just wants to make us wait.”
A couple of nights ago, when the home test you secretly took showed two lines, you booked a blood test to be sure. The doctor starts her sentence with Congratulations and you exhale a shaky breath of relief.
────୨ৎ────
Later that day, you’re folding laundry in the living room while Ella’s at school. Zach gets home from an early practice and beams when he sees you, dropping his bag on the floor.
“Hi, baby,” he says. “How are you?”
“Good. How was training?”
“I’m getting old,” he chuckles, stretching his arms over his head. You laugh.
Zach had already decided that after eight years, this is his last season professionally playing. He was offered a position on the coaching team after he told his managers he’d be resigning. He’s ready to slow down, to work a job that doesn’t have such a high risk of injury, to have more time for his family.
He sits next to you, takes the t-shirt out of your hands, folds it and then puts it on the stack on the table so that you’re free to hug him. You giggle as he leans forward and pushes you back against the couch. He’s hovering over you, his cheek pressed on yours as he hugs you, smelling like his body wash.
Zach lives for these simple moments. Getting home to you, holding you, grounding himself and reminding himself that this is what life is about.
“Hey, how’s your day look six Mondays from now?” you ask.
“That’s specific,” he laughs. “I’ll have to check. Why?”
“I’d prefer it if you came to the ultrasound with me.”
He pulls back, searching your face in awe.
“What?” he whispers. “Are you… What?”
“I am,” you laugh, tears building in your eyes, stroking his soft hair.
“When did you…?”
“This morning,” you say. “I didn’t want to tell you in case it came back negative.”
“I’m…” Zach doesn’t have words. He leans forward, gently pressing his lips against yours, shuffling quickly so he doesn’t put any weight on you.
“It’s okay,” you laugh. “You won’t break us.”
“Us,” he repeats happily, his voice cracking. He looks down at your stomach, gently putting his hand on you. “It’s okay that you made us wait,” he whispers to the baby. “I already know you were worth it. Are you being gentle with your mom?”
He looks up at you, a flash of concern washing over his awestruck face.
“I’m a little more tired than usual,” you say. “But nothing crazy yet.”
“I can’t believe it,” Zach sighs. He sniffles, his heart racing with happiness as his eyes fill with tears. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Me, neither. We can give her the book soon.”
Zach smiles. He’d bought a children’s book a few months back about becoming a big sister for when it was time to tell Ella a baby was on the way.
Having known you for nearly four years now, he was already well aware of how pure your heart is. But the fact that your first thought is to tell Ella is yet another reminder of how you’ve always seen yourself as not only sharing your life with him, but with her, too.
“Gonna be hard not to do it right away,” he says.
“Do you have any idea how hard these last three hours have been?” you laugh. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. But we’ll share the news with her after the first trimester. To be safe.”
“Of course,” he agrees, cupping your face and pulling you in for another tender kiss.
────୨ৎ────
By the three month mark, your appetite has grown and fatigue has hit you hard. When the day comes to tell Ella, you’re bursting with excitement to tell her the news.
After dinner, you sit on the couch, already used to Zach quietly telling you to sit down and not do any housework.
Ella’s doing homework at the coffee table as you help. You gaze at her as she concentrates on her writing and remember the four-year-old she was when you first walked into this house.
She’s nearly eight now and still has so many of the qualities you’d first noticed about her. She’s energetic and loves conversation and never hesitates to show affection.
Zach comes in from cleaning up after dinner and raises his eyebrows at you, discreetly holding the book. You nod to confirm you’re ready, nervous.
He sits next to you, taking one last moment to look at you and at his daughter, accepting that this is the last moment the three of you will have like this. His family is growing now, and it feels like his heart is, too.
“Is it two R’s? Or one?” Ella mumbles, the pencil in her hand. She looks up when you don’t answer, too busy trying not to cry as you watch her. “Are you okay, mommy?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m okay. Can you sit with us for a moment?”
Ella nods, running towards you. Zach stops her in his arms before she lands too close to you. You laugh, having already told him privately that she’s never rough enough to hurt the baby, but he can’t be too careful.
“I have a book for you,” Zach says, kissing Ella on the temple as she sits between you. “Can you tell me what you think?”
He hands her the purple hardcover.
“What’s it called?” you ask.
“Big Sisters Are The Best,” she reads. She curiously opens the page, gazing over the illustrations of a little girl with a baby.
“Thank you,” she says politely. “I’ll tell my friend Kaley about this book. Maybe she can borrow it. She’s a big sister.”
You chuckle, meeting Zach’s eyes. He rubs Ella’s back and tells her, “You’re going to be a big sister, too, honey.”
Ella’s gaze darts up to him, then to you, then back again.
“Really?” she says. Zach’s face brightens with endearment, eyes growing shiny with tears.
“Really?” she repeats, looking at you.
“Really,” you say, putting a hand over your stomach. “That’s why I keep going back for seconds at dinner lately. There’s a baby in here making me extra hungry.”
Ella stands up, unable to contain her happiness, jumping up and down in her spot a few times before wrapping you into a hug. You laugh as she wiggles in your arms.
Zach wipes his eyes, still unsure of what he did to deserve this sort of happiness. It’s like he’s in another world, experiencing a type of joy reserved specifically for him.
“This is the best day ever,” she says. “And you’re the best mommy ever and daddy’s the best daddy ever.”
“He is,” you agree, looking at him with pure love.
────୨ৎ────
“You’re such a girl dad,” you say amusedly when you go into Ella’s bedroom.
Zach’s sitting on the floor as Ella adds what looks like the twentieth clip in his hair, while he holds Olivia, who’s happily ripping up a piece of paper.
He smiles at you gratefully. Your one-year-old is exactly how Ella was at that age. Curious, smiley, and eager to make messes wherever she can. He knows you’re technically a blended family, but it has never felt like that.
“Ella, can you do mine next?” you ask.
“After Olivia,” she says happily. “I told her she’s next and I have to keep my promise.”
“Of course,” you say. “She’s lucky to have such a nice big sister.”
“Ebba,” Olivia babbles.
“Ella,” Ella corrects. You laugh. It feels like yesterday, you’d just met her and Zach, and he was correcting her on how she’d called him the bestest. Now, she’s growing before your eyes, already so mature and well-mannered.
“But Ebba’s okay,” Ella says with a smile. She leans to give her little sister a kiss on the forehead, earning a giggle from her, clapping for more.
You sit on the floor next to Zach, squeezing his knee lovingly as your daughters laugh together. He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it.
“And to think,” you joke, “we wouldn’t be here if I bombed my interview.”
Zach laughs, shaking his head as he kisses your hand again.
“No,” he says. “This is how life was meant to be. You would have found us, no matter what. I know it.”
You grin at him, nodding in agreement.
Sitting here with his wife and daughters is the definition of destiny. Zach knows deep in his soul that he was always fated to be right here, with his heart split between three beautiful girls.
(the end)
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viaviavie · 6 hours ago
Text
in which sebek steals a dance with you during the glorious masquerade event. you both make an entire spectacle on the dance floor. (alternatively, sebek is flirting with you and is trying to be super nonchalant about it by saying it's for the sake of Malleus' honor). sebek zigvolt x reader note: i was watching this and imagined every single twst guy doing this in glorious masquarade. but i love sebek smsmsm so its sebek today. also, did you know that crocodiles do courtship dances during mating season?
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Masquerade balls were not the most accessible event from your modern world. To think that you would get the opportunity was but a fleeting dream. At least, that was the case until you were dragged along to Fleur City. How fortunate of Vil to tailor your own attire for you. The process was not free of charge, of course. All it truly costed was several days of Vil playing dress up with his human mannequin. Thankfully, the fires caused by Rollo's magic never left a scratch on your garments, and you were more than happy that the ball had resumed after the incident.
With such grace, you let out a fit of giggles as Rook twirled you around on the dance floor. "Well done, Trickster! It seems that Vil's dance lessons have finally paid off as well." The blonde lowers himself to a bow, and you return a gesture of your own with a wide grin. "Yeah! I gotta thank him once we get back. Those shoes he recommended me were very good too!"
Looking back on the sea of students and staff alike, you found some relief in Trein watching over Grim and Deuce as they raided the tables lined up with food. Everyone else seemed to be occupied, whether they were mingling with other students or eyeing Rollo with caution. Rook takes your hand once more, stepping into the imaginary box dictating your steps as you pivot backwards. He leans into your ear, hands lightly tapping at your shoulders as you both paused.
"Have you noticed how Monsieur Crocodile has been watching you?"
Eyes flickering upwards, you see the half-fae standing guard by Malleus and Silver. Whereas Malleus seemed engrossed in a conversation with a Noble Bell student, and Silver occupied with his duty, Sebek's gaze was trained onto you like a hawk. It was too intense, too different from the way he watches over Malleus and his surroundings with such caution. No, this felt much different.
Rook leans in closer, and you swear he is smiling at Sebek. You swear that Rook is trying to provoke him with the way he shifts closer to your ear. "He has been eyeing you for a long time now, Trickster." The song sways into motion once more, and you have turned around to face the hunter entirely. He finds himself amused over your pink cheeks, the way you shake your head wildly in denial. "Please, Rook. He probably doesn't want me dishonoring Malleus in some way, shape, or form because his lord is associated with me." You rambled nervously, swallowing to yourself as Rook takes your hand and turns you through the dance floor as the strings soften their volume.
"Non, non. I would be delighted to disagree." Rook comes to a halt, tilting his head to the side as he returns his hands behind his back. You pause, confusion overtaking your expression until you turn your head to the side, finally eyeing what had caught the hunter's attention. Striding forward was a seemingly coolheaded Sebek, a hand trained behind his back and the other, relaxed at his side. Fixing his signature smile, Rook bows slightly before the knightly figure.
"Good evening, Monsieur Crocodile! I have yet to see you on the dance floor."
Clearing his throat, Sebek nods at Rook with a tight jaw. "It appears that Epel requires your presence. May you tend to him before he gets swamped with too many unwanted admirers?" The three of you glance off to the side, eyeing a distressed Epel trapped in a crowd of students who seem too eager to ask him for a dance. You suppose that without Vil to overshadow everyone else, Epel's charms were rather hard to resist for some. Maintaining that smile, Rook leaves with a short nod to both you and Sebek, striding away from the dance floor with poise.
Hands fallen to your lap, you watched as Sebek take a step closer in front of you. Does he hear your heart pounding as he holds out his arm? Biting onto your inner cheek, you tilted your head to meet his eyes which were filled with nothing but sheer determination. "Prefect, may I have the honor of stealing you for this dance?"
He does not miss the way your cheeks burn red now, and you do not miss the way his ears matched the same color. Steal? That sounded intimate, in comparison to simply 'asking' you for a dance. Not that it mattered though, not when your heart was doing the flips in your chest for him. "But of course, Sebek. I would be delighted."
It takes you by surprise as he reached out for your hand, gently lowering his head to place his lips against your knuckles. If you were already flushed red, surely, you felt even warmer than before. You do not even register the way he places his hand on your waist, the other held high for you to clasp on. You waste no time either on shuffling your steps according to his pace, constantly adjusting and turning to his lead. Though his head was held highly, his eyes were still trained onto your face.
"I never knew that you were good at dancing." You tell him, taking a quick glance to the side to find Malleus and Silver observing you both, smiling at the sight. Sebek pays no mind to the crowd, grunting in response. "To master the art of dancing is another skill to perfect, should I be a knight worthy of the Young Master. Even beyond the sword, it is his honor that I carry."
The strings are soft and gentle as Sebek circles you, his hand never leaving your waist. To onlookers, it appears that Malleus's vassal in the making has a second master. He is close, yet keeps a distance to exercise his restraint. Sebek knows better than to impose onto your space, but he would not appear to be a stranger. After spending more than enough time with you, whether it be within the company of Malleus or not, it was safe to say you were at least acquaintances, if not friends.
Still, friends do not dance together so intimately in front of crowds, not like this. There was a certain delicacy to his steps, and you can feel his eyes on you even when your back his turned. When he takes your hand, he laces his fingers before pulling away as if you were set alight. You try to follow, give chase as you both brush elbows with a turn, barely catching his conflicted expression as he returns his hand to your waist. It is a neverending cycle of push and pull, chasing and running, wanting and longing.
With a pivot, you take a step towards Sebek's chest as he closes the distance. A quiet gasp leaves your lips as your chin lightly brushes against the padding of his chest, just as his hand presses against your lower back for support.
And just then, the music stops and all you hear are murmurs and whispers from the crowd.
You take the time to peer into your surroundings past Sebek's shoulder, marveling at the crowd that had seemed to circle the grand ballroom. Pairs of Noble Bell students are stationed at the border of the dance floor, centering you and Sebek in the middle of it all. The combination of a magicless student and a half-fae look out of place, not to mention how your attires seemed to stand out from Fleur City's garments.
Sebek comes to the conclusion faster than you as he huffed to himself. "Ah, it seems we are put on the spot." For once, he is quiet. Quiet does not always yield to meekness, however. He lowers himself to your ear, unable to see your piqued expression. "What shall we do, Sebek?" You feel him shift his head every so slightly, looking towards the direction of where Malleus was supposedly sitting.
The half-fae grunted, and you could feel his fingers on your hip tense slightly. "The Young Master's honor befalls on us both, so does the honor of Night Raven College." After what felt like a long time, Sebek slowly pulled away to look you in the eye. You were not shying away from him, too lost in the moment to consider the possibility of stage fright.
"Prepare yourself, Prefect. I shall not hold back on your accord if you wish." Bravado returns to Sebek's voice, almost similar to his usual tone when proudly representing the Briar prince. It is the way that his lips threaten to twitch into a smirk as you beam at him with an agreeable nod. "Good, looks like we're on the same page." You breathed out, the strings strumming to life once more. The tempo is faster now, and your head tunes into the beat quickly.
You surprise Sebek as you take the initiative first. Much like the Trickster you were, you circle Sebek once with an arm ghosted before his chest until you meet his front. Clenching his jaw, he was taken aback by a mere moment by your boldness before a smug smirk surfaces across his features. He takes your hand slowly, taking a careful step forward before falling into the beat.
You supposed that everyone had Vil to thank for teaching the inexperienced students on how to dance with one another. It was not the first time you would be dancing with Sebek, but this was an entirely different matter. There wasn't much of a dance routine to recall, but only trust that your partner would always be in sync with you.
Sebek never disappoints when it came to observation, and it didn't take too long for him to adjust to your movements.
The world spins with each turn and pivot, but Sebek never relents and neither do you. His cape is flying through the air, and the extensions from your clothes flow in sync with his movements. As you barely ghost your head from his chest, you continue to glance into the crowd. You were barely able to catch Deuce and Grim from the crowd, attempting to support you with a 'thumbs-up'. Then you could see Rollo and Malleus side-by-side, arms crossed and musing upon the sight.
Everyone was switching partners, leaping from one dancer to another. Sebek's gentle grip on you remained, and your hand never leaves his shoulder as you both spun.
There were so many people whose eyes were trained on you, and the idea makes your head spin until your dance partner noticed. "Prefect, do not stray your gaze from me." You are almost startled by how commandeering his voice had become. For a slight moment, you both pull away, an arm behind your backs and the other lacing fingers. His eyes trained onto yours, as they always were, Sebek gives you an encouraging smile. "Focus on me." You do not understand, judging by the way you cock your head to the side innocently. "Care not for what the others think of you. It is only you and I here."
It takes a moment for you to relax, returning his smile before you closed the distance once more with a sweep of your foot. "And what are you thinking of, Sebek?" You respond, and it is that look on your face that takes his breath away. As he sweeps at the floor with you, he struggles to find the words. Between dancing and thinking, both had begun to feel difficult with each second that passes while he remained fixed onto your eyes. Ever so quietly, he finally clears his throat to answer your question.
"I am thinking about how the radiance of Fleur City pales when compared to your expressions."
Everyone is leaping again, the colors of Noble Bell wash over into a blur as your lips parted with surprise. Words are trapped in your throat as you looked up at Sebek, eyes softening in thought. For a moment, Sebek's face froze, almost as if he feared your reaction when it was anything but rejection. Your silence would've pained him, if he weren't so captivated by your expression as the world continues to spin.
Finally, he breaks the silence with a whine.
"Please don't look at me like that, Prefect. I beg you." It snaps you out of your trance, prompting you to furrow your eyebrows slightly in confusion. "Why? I am only looking at you like you asked." Sebek's grip tightens only slightly, demonstrating even further restraint. Almost like an agonized hiss, he responds with an accusing glare. "That's exactly it! I cannot think straight when you look at me with such an endearing expression!"
If it was an indirect comment, it cracks a smile from your face. Even as your eyes flutter shut into your stifled laughter, you never truly face away from the half-fae. Huffing to himself, Sebek's ears flush a warm pink. "You dare provoke me like this?" He says quietly, but it is merely a warning before he puffs up his chest with pride, regaining a new sense of energy.
Squeezing your hand with care, Sebek cleared his throat with a scowl. "Very well, then I shall give you my all for tonight. Do not regret this." As surly as he attempts to be, it does not deter you from returning his gesture with a squeeze of your own. "Of course not!"
You no longer know how long you have been dancing for. It seems that a few pairs have resigned to rest, leaving behind more room for you and Sebek to explore. You've long stopped paying attention to your surroundings, far too concerned with the way Sebek mutters quick praises into your ear with each turn and twirl. He is swift with his feet, yet so careful to ensure you do not fall on his watch. Neither of you have yet to stumble, far too engrossed and connected to collapse now.
"Good, Prefect! Keep up!"
The music never stops, and it seems it has no intents of stopping until only one pair remains. If your feet were ever tired, you never notice, not when Sebek's hands are constantly finding ways to touch you. Even as you both part for mere seconds, it does not take long for him to come back. He returns to you, just as how you retreat to him, how you surrender yourself to him, how you trust him to not let you fall.
You never realize how he comes so close to your face, dipping you low until his breath brushes against the crook of your neck. Sebek's arm was secure in the way he kept you from falling onto the floor, despite how far he had lowered you. His hot breath brushed against your cheek, and you could feel his body tense as you tighten your grip on his shoulder. "Is it appropriate for you to be this close to me?" You murmured softly, meeting his dilated eyes, that beautiful shade of gold. "Does it cause you discomfort?" He muttered in turn, almost ready to shift away should you express it. Much to his concern, you shook your head with a coy smile. "No."
Sebek held a smug smirk, confidence reflected behind his eyes once more. Just as he heaved forward to pull you back up, his lips brushed against the slight curve of your ear. For a moment, you wondered if it was just your imagination when you felt a sharp fang press itself against your skin for a brief moment.
"Very good, Prefect."
It clicks.
This is no longer an ordinary dance. It is a game of hiding one's affections. For someone as loud and proud like Sebek, it comes to a slight surprise that he would indulge in subtleties to express his fondness for you. Once he had pulled you from his dip, something changes within Sebek's movements.
Sebek holds you as if he were possessed, eyes glazed with yearning. The song had begun to ride out its climax, intensifying just as your partner closed in on you like a predator trapping its prey. It's not just about upholding reputations now.
Leaning into your space, Sebek's restrained hand lightly clawed at your back as he presses you closer to him. Finally able to obscure himself from your vision, he struggled to keep himself from growling, however much he could hold back the fae within him.
"Be careful, Prefect. If you keep looking at me with those eyes of yours,"
Pulling away, he bares his fangs before you, teeth clenched with intense concentration. Perhaps the act of putting on a show was no longer on his mind, traded in for the experience of watching your lovely expressions as he continued to control your turns with each step and pull. Sebek would never let you turn away from him, and you wouldn't dare to tear yourself away from his powerful gaze.
"I might just devour you whole."
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"Monsieur Crocodile! I did not expect such a display from him, I applaud his tenacity!" Azul sighed to himself, debating on whether he should or shouldn't entertain the blonde who had taken to himself with a handkerchief to his eye. Against his better judgement, he turns to Rook with an exasperated expression. "His tenacity is applaudable, yes. Still, I do not understand why you have to shed a tear, Rook."
"Have you not noticed, Roi d'Effort?" Rook clicks his tongue, his smile relaxing as he swoons over the sight of the pair returning to Malleus and Silver. "It is most common to part from your current partner and land in the arms of another for these waltzes. The entire point of this dance is to explore different faces, after all." Only then does it click for Azul who hums in amusement, seemingly impressed by the sentiment.
"Monsieur Crocodile has not switched partners at all, and the knight-to-be has no intentions of ever handing off the Trickster to anyone else." Azul certainly never coined Sebek to be quite the romantic.
From a distance, you nudged Sebek's shoulder with a cheeky smile. "I suppose this demonstrates the good will between fae and humans, doesn't it?" You teased, only to be met by a reddened Sebek. All the bravado he exhibited during that dance seemed to have disappeared in Malleus's presence, but it's not as if you disliked it.
"R-Right! You are correct, Prefect! This spectacle shall demonstrate the Young Master's benevolence towards humans, as well as all those who represent him!" Sebek rambled, unable to meet you in the eye. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Malleus could only smile to himself in amusement.
It seems that Lilia had won his bet; Sebek will not be expressing the entirety of his true feelings to you today.
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mind-intheclouds342 · 3 days ago
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A new ladder - Reader x Curly
Previous - Part 5 - Next
"This looks like a funeral home!"
You said, clapping, alarming Curly who had barely woken up about ten minutes ago. 
You started to open the curtains to let some light in and turned on the television, looking for a channel that plays music instead of news. 
You smiled when you found one with music you like and were ready to go prepare breakfast, but you almost fell from the shock when you saw Curly. 
"Hey-!... You got up on your own..." you mentioned, holding your chest. 
Curly: "Ah... Yes, I made coffee but... I couldn't serve it, it's still in the coffee maker... Do you do that every day?"
"...You have a very, very deep sleep, in case you didn't know..." 
You kept staring at him, not taking your eyes off him as you slowly walked to grab the coffee pot to pour the coffee into two cups. 
Curly: "What do you want to do today?"
You raised an eyebrow as you thought of a response. 
"There's an amusement park in the city, how does that sound?"
Curly: "Sounds good" he nodded. 
You gave him a smile and pushed him a little, making him lose his balance and have to hold onto the table to avoid falling. 
"Impossible, you're going to fall apart if we go there. We need to practice your walking and how to use your new limbs."
Curly: "What do you recommend then?" he asked, finally standing up with some difficulty. 
"Let's go for a jog!" She patted his back, ready to prepare something to add to breakfast. 
After eating, they both changed into clothes, some for training. 
Curly noticed how loose his clothes had become due to the loss of muscle. 
"Later I can adjust it if you like, is it very uncomfortable for you?" 
You approached him to check it. 
Curly: "I'm worried that my pants will fall down."
"Look how easy that is to fix" 
You went to get thread and a needle to make a hem on the waistband of the pants and you put a few stitches in the hem to make it snug. 
"Done, I'll adjust it properly another day, now let's go, let's go"
First, you took a drive to a less busy area; you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with the attention of people passing by on the road. 
"It's great that you can stand up and walk, do you think it's okay to try climbing up to that sign?" 
Curly: "Or course. I can do it" 
"Oh, someone is enthusiastic?" 
You laughed and got ready next to him to start jogging, he lagged behind for a few seconds but then took a few steps. 
You quickly returned when you heard he had fallen to help him get back on his feet. 
You repeated that action several times, but you got worried when he fell and his face hit the ground directly. 
"Hey, maybe jogging was too ambitious, we can walk through the forest here." 
He stood up with your help, head down, annoyed for not being able to do something he used to do every day a while ago. 
"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? "Let me see" 
You slowly removed the mask he was wearing to check it, and they were startled by the scream of a child, just as a mother with her child was passing by. 
Curly immediately turned to the other side so the child wouldn't have to see it while the woman gestured apologetically, carrying her son and quickly leaving the place. 
"They're gone now" you said, patting his shoulder. 
Curly: "I know... That i must look really bad... "
"Hey, don't think too much about it, come on, let's take a walk to clear your mind, okay?"
You took the sleeve of his jacket to pull him with you, delving into the forest and walking along the already marked path. 
He stood there watching as you held onto his clothes, and saw the prosthesis, how crude it was in shape, being made only to be functional and not aesthetic. 
I would like to hold her hand... 
He thought while still focused on your hand, and you turned to look at him when his prosthetic touched your forearm, strangely it felt like a caress. 
When he realized what he had done, he got nervous. 
Curly: "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to scare you." 
"No, no, no problem, I should have let you go. You must have felt really bad being pulled."
You said, smiling as you let go of his clothes, but that made him even more depressed. 
You continued walking until you felt a tug on your jacket, looking at the man in confusion. 
Curly: "...I have better balance if I hold onto you"
"Mm? Do you think you can keep up with me?"
You smiled with a hint of mischief as you walked slowly at first, and with each step, you increased your speed, making Curly follow you at the same pace, without letting go of your jacket. 
And within a few minutes, both were jogging in sync, your legs even moving in perfect harmony. 
You ran the entire forest trail until you returned to the starting point, both laughing, very excited about Curly's rapid progress. 
They took a break to drink some water and rest a bit, sitting on the hood of the car. 
Curly: "I missed this..." 
"Did you use to exercise a lot?"
Curly: "Yes, it was one of my hobbies, exercising, lifting weights, jogging, I had my own routine, it was nice."
"You were athletic too, mm, you sounded like the perfect man," you stretched before getting up.
He remained thinking about your words, sighing as he remembered that he would never be that man again.
Curly: "Yeah... someone cool, right?"
"Not for me. Routines aren't bad, but ugh they make me sick, perfect people, they seem like robots programmed to do the same thing until they die. Everything they do seems so good, they eat healthy, exercise, work, study, but it just ends up being a cycle because... they don't aspire to anything else, you know?" 
You shrugged as you opened the door of your car. 
"Because... what's the point of reaching the top if you're not going to keep climbing something higher?"
He felt that for a moment, his entire world had stopped; he could only hear the beating of his heart, and everything else was just silence. 
He opened his mouth to say something, but only a sigh escaped, lost in your silhouette before him, who only hoped you would get in the car so you could go home together. 
When you honked the horn, you brought him out of his trance. 
"Are you going to get in or are you going to run to home?" you asked, smiling. 
I knew well that you were capable of leaving it there, so he quickly climbed up next to your seat.
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maiiuelle · 2 days ago
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what if rafe was one of the readers managers and she was a pop star of some sort? i feel like we'd end up seeing a documentary about that because he's making under the table deals to get her more publicity, but also setting her up for drama to make both of them more popular !! he def also gives her something to keep her going through exhaustion and that's a whole 'nother thing !!
whew that was a lot! also hi!! i'm back from the dead!
- 🪻
OMGG HEY!!
okay walk with me here, you start dating rafe already chasing your dream of becoming a pop star. you’ve run into nothing but useless managers and dead ends, so you moved back home to the outer banks and picked up bartending.
you tell rafe all of this, just casual new relationship small talk — but he gets hooked on it. “y’know, i have crazy connections — like, through my dad and shit — so, if you’re serious about it, i mean.. i could prolly help you out.”
you don’t stop to consider he might be in it for the money, at first not convinced yourself you’ll make anything after your past failed attempts at stardom. but, rafe pulls through. you start booking small gigs on the island, singing at weddings and small venues until your name really starts getting out there.
of course, it’s not all thanks to your talent, though he lets you think it is. he could never tell you that your career is nothing more than a very elaborate front for his own business, he’d rather let you have your fun while he makes millions.
fame puts a strain on your relationship with rafe, surely, especially with him being your manager. you’d expect a little comfort from your boyfriend, but you come to him exhausted before a show, and he couldn’t seem more inconvenienced.
your glittery outfit scrapes over rafe’s pressed suit when you fall into his arms. “princess, seriously? what — what, what is it? hm?” he pulls you back up on your feet, tapping your cheek in irritation.
“i can’t do this.” you suck in a shaky breath, clutching your chest trying to breathe away a sob. he sighs frustratedly from his nose, pressing his lips together in disappointment. “rafe, i can’t—”
he puts his arm around your shoulders, looking around the room as he digs his other hand into his pocket. it sounds like there’s a plastic bag inside, and his thick fingers come out coated in white powder. he turns you a little, holding you up when you trip over your heels. “shh, shh, you’re good.”
rafe pushes his fingers under your lip, rubbing them over your gums for a second. you squirm at the feeling, but he holds you still. when he stops, you smack your lips, looking up at him in dazed confusion.
he smiles, finally looking proud as he kisses your sweaty forehead. “see, there you go, baby. you’re perfect. get moving, you’re on in 5.”
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