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peachesofteal · 9 months

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Simple Math / Part 5

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Stalking. Brief mention of domestic violence. Feelings of fear, self loathing, and anxiety. Vomiting. Panic attack/comfort. Medical inaccuracies, hospital setting. A little bit of praise. Johnny is a flirt and a menace.

“Ye’re off yer head.”

“I’m not.” Johnny expects Simon to relent, to give it up, but when he doesn’t budge, something hot sizzles alive in the pit of Johnny’s stomach, desire roaring to life in his veins.

“Jus’ like that? Ye’re goin’ let me see yer bonnie face finally?” He slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips, and Simon nods.

“Only if you win."

“And if ye win?” Simon moves closer, his chest brushing against Johnny’s, balaclava covered face dipping down, noses nudging against one another’s in a tentative, teasing way.

“If I win, you’ll remove something of my choosing instead.”

Your phone is ringing.

In your sleep, you hardly recognize it, but your subconscious is well trained, and your hand seeks the source of the noise effortlessly, dragging it from the nightstand and next to your face, to squint blearily at it, awareness coming quickly when you recognize the charge nurse’s work line.

“Hello?” You clear the cobwebs of sleep from your throat.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“No, ‘s alright. What’s going on?”

“I know it’s your day off, but-“

“You’re short.” You fill in the blanks, and she huffs.

“We’ve got two out with flu like symptoms, and I’m floating another to-“

“It’s okay.” You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes. “I got you. Just give me like, an hour? I have to get ready and stuff.”

“Of course. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver.” You zone out for a moment, plotting out the rest of your day, and mumble something like ‘don’t worry about it’, ending the call with your thumb.

The hotel carpet is plush. It’s cushioned and soft, and it gives a little when you stand and stretch, pulling your arms over your head, twisting and turning with tired bones, shaking loose the stupor that holds your neck too straight, too tightly.

OT isn’t the worst thing in the world right now, considering you’re paying for a long term stay in a hotel, you tell yourself more than a few times as you shower and dress. You should be grateful for it. Understaffing has it’s benefits, financially.

The only wrench about coming in on your day off this week is you’re supposed to be collecting more things from your flat. Particularly, clothing. You’ve only got a short rotation of outfits, scrubs, both in short supply, and… no clean underwear. You had planned to move large chunks of your wardrobe over today, probably at least two trips worth, but will now have to settle for stopping by fairly quick to grab what you can.

It will be fine, you think, casually checking your surroundings as you step off the platform. In and out and on with your day.

You were wrong.

You see it immediately, stepping through the door. The locks are in place, handle, deadbolt, extra one at the top, but you can tell, you can feel, that someone has been in here. Your blood thickens in your veins, freezing to a stop, sluggishly propelled by your frenzied heart. You can hear it in your ears, the thunder of your panic, can feel the fear twisting itself into a sailor’s knot and holding you hostage.

Your feeling is confirmed, rationalized, when you push your bedroom door ajar and see the carnage of what’s been left behind on top of your bed.

Shredded panties.

The entire underwear drawer has been spilled out across your sheets, lace and cotton and silk all ripped to pieces, torn edges clearly made by hands, not knives, not scissors, but the personal touch of fingers, of fists.

Your breath catches in your chest, oxygen in the room falling away, leaving you panting, gasping for your next inhale as you cautiously pick up a pair close to you. They’re grey cotton boy shorts, and your stomach flips up into your throat when they stand as stiff as a board, some sort of dried substance splattered across them, rendering the fabric firm and inflexible.

Not… not just some dried substance… you realize in horror, scanning the pile of panties, noticing the stains on most of them, a milky white color shining against black silk.

You can’t breathe. You stumble away, back slamming into your dresser, sinking down onto the floor, hands covering your ears.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

This is sick, even for him. An escalation of disturbing behavior that sends a chill down your spine, frightening you even more than you already were. You knew he’d get in, hoped he would buy your carefully crafted lie: the appearance of you still living there… but to act so brazenly, to do something like… this.

Does he know, does he realize, you’re not actually living in the flat now?

He’s really going to kill you this time.

You race to the toilet, heaving yourself over the seat as your breakfast rushes past your lips, a cup of coffee and half eaten muffin accentuated by the sting of bile, and you gag, spitting and hacking until you’re finished, flushing it all away.

You don’t look at the girl in the mirror. You don’t want to see her. Don’t want to tell her all the ways you’re letting her down. She thinks you’re smarter than this, stronger. Braver. She believes you’ve done it once before, you’ve escaped, you’ve hid, and you can do it again.

She doesn’t know you’re not sure you have the heart for it now. She doesn’t realize you’re tired, you’re afraid. She doesn’t understand that you like the life you’ve made, that running is exhausting, that sometimes, in the very darkest corners of your mind, you think that letting him win might be easiest.

So, you don’t look at her. You mourn your pile of panties for a too long second and lock the apartment up tight.

Get it together. Get yourself together.

You coach yourself the entire way to work, trying to ignore the rubbing and bunching of your scrub pants, an unfortunate consequence of being forced to go commando.

Deep breath. You can do this.

You still have your sanctuary.

You had hoped, for a miniscule moment, that your day might improve once you step foot in the hospital, and you pushed away the inkling that suggested that optimism may be linked the fact that you’ll get to see Simon and Johnny, opting not to even acknowledge the strange sensations swirling about inside your heart whenever you think about the other day. The day when the world stood still and Johnny touched your hand so gently, stroking his fingers over your skin, or when the elevator doors parted to reveal Simon and their baby, a sweet baby girl safe in his arms, his eyes alight and adoring, your knees almost giving out at the sight.

Needless to say, you’re eager to badge in.

The day is quickly derailed, when within a half an hour of getting settled into your routine, an alarm goes off for two sixty-eight: thirty-nine degrees.

Your mind immediately somersaults to the pain in his upper right quadrant from your last shift, logical thought leaping all around as you jog down the hall.

You notated it. You passed it on in shift report. It’s only thirty-nine. You did everything right. No one here would just disregard something like that. Deep breath.

Still…

Bile leak. Abscess. Infection. Or worse… hepatic artery pseudoaneurysm, hemorrhaging. Big things that could lead to worse things, worse outcomes, worse-

The door comes up quicker than you realize, and without hesitating, you slip inside.

“Hi.” You’re a little breathless, and Simon’s eyes snap to yours, taking you in, studying from head to toe, brow knitted together. Johnny’s asleep, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better, or worse.

“Everything alright?” Of course. He’s too perceptive. Get control of yourself, it could be nothing.

“Yeah, I ah… have to draw some blood.” You really do not want to wake your patient, or alarm Simon, but you refuse to lie. You fire off a text to the attending on call, advising him of Johnny’s temperature and reminding him of the upper right quadrant pain, letting him know he can expect labs as soon as you get them downstairs. You give Simon a nod, turning to slide the draw open quietly, pulling out everything you’ll need. His gaze burns a hole in your scrubs, the ever-present scrutiny impossible to escape, and sometimes you wonder if he’s reading your mind.

“What’s wrong? He just fell asleep, Pen was here all morning, tired him out.” His protest is husky, and you think he’s frowning behind the mask. You imagine a strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation; wide jaw gnashed tight with worry.

“He’s running just a bit of a fever.” He jolts, and you shake your head, hoping to soothe his fear. “It’s not too high. I’m not super worried, but we’ll need to check his white cell count, just in case, okay? And then we’ll go from there.” He nods.

“You said this could happen.” You smile. It feels unsteady, but you hope he can’t tell.

“I did. I promised, that if there was something to panic about, I would tell you. We’re not there yet.” It’s not a lie. Your wild spiral from a few minutes ago was an extreme, not reality, and you need to keep your head on.

“Okay.”

“Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what’s going on.” Simon shifts uncomfortably, and you carefully squeeze Johnny's arm, wrapping him with the tie and swabbing the inside of his elbow as fast as possible.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he realizes you’re leaning over him, and his gaze darts to Simon before landing back on you. “There’s our bunny.” He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction, and Simon coughs. Loudly. Bunny?

“Such a flirt, MacTavish.” You playfully chastise him, relieved he’s feeling like himself. “I just need to get some blood and then I’ll leave you in peace to sleep.” He shrugs, but Simon rubs a thumb against his thigh in tiny little circles, too fast to be considered comfort, and Johnny clucks. “Ah, come on Si.”

“You’re runnin’ a fever, Johnny.”

“Ach. ‘s nothing.” He brushes it off, but his eyes are slow to track Simon’s movements, and you casually sneak a peek at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

“Could be.” You assure him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder and taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture. “But better safe than sorry, right?”

The labs are inconclusive. The attending hems and haws before finally asking you to schedule a stat ultrasound of his abdomen, and you manage to bump him to the front of the queue, pulling a few strings here and there by rattling off some bullshit about being higher priority.

In the time it takes for the tech to get to two sixty-eight with the machine, you get a new admission. Intubated, but awake, and getting them and their family squared away takes longer than you would have liked, the patient’s middle-aged husband a wreck of nerves and worry, the kind of anxiety that makes you sit with him in the room for a little while, patting his hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, every step of the way.

By the time you step out of that room, it’s been nearly an hour. You catch a glimpse of Simon in the chairs outside two sixty-eight, and you throw him one of your best work smiles, hoping to reassure him, soothe his nerves. You want to go to him, want to sit beside him and talk him through everything, the outcomes, the possibilities, but you still need to add the notes for your new admit, and-

Someone catches your eye from the end of the hall. It’s a man, white, with brown hair, in regular clothes, and he stands taller than the others around him, shoulders rolled back just- just like-

No. You force yourself to look, to truly see him, taking in his facial features, the slope of his nose, and it’s hardly a second before you’re realizing it’s not who you thought it was. It’s not him.

The second doesn’t matter to your heart. It’s already racing, tripling it’s steady pace inside your chest. You’re shaking, trembling in the middle of the hall, frantically looking for the nearest closet, or empty room, or…

Stairwell. There’s a stairwell just beyond where Simon is anxiously waiting, and you beeline to it, nearly tripping over your own feet past him. You think you hear your name being called, but the blood rushing in your ears is too loud, and you can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting away. Hiding. Not letting yourself be noticed.

You take the first flight down, stopping on the landing to rest your face against the polished, cold wall, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air, encouraging yourself to breathe.

It wasn’t him. You’re safe.

Deep breath. You can do this.

Your fingers dig into your hips, squeezing through the numbness, through the overwhelming feeling of your impending doom, and your head swims, lightheadedness nearly knocking you off balance.

“It wasn’t him.” You whisper aloud. “It’s not him. You’re safe. Get it together.” You chant, eyes clenched tight. Your heart is still pounding, no sign of relenting, and your lungs burn, screaming inside you, desperate for air. The feeling of suffocating, of dying, grows stronger, gaining momentum, and your eyes slam shut, your mind and body locked in a tomb of panic and fear.

You hear your name again. It’s sharper, authoritative, but you can’t open your eyes, too overwhelmed to even make sense of it. Deep breath, just breathe.

Something touches your shoulder. It’s unexpected, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you register it as gentle, but you’re too far gone, too far buried beneath your fear and your panic and your shame. It triggers you into a defensive posture, and you flinch so hard you jostle yourself into the wall, turning into the corner, hands out in front of your face.

“Hey, hey.” It’s Simon. Simon is standing in the stairwell with you, palms open, concern heavy in his eyes, and you vaguely realize he’s talking, soft, deep words washing over you. “-to breathe?” He comes closer, only half a step, but it’s enough to startle you back into the corner, and he stops short. “It’s alright. I’m not going to touch you.” He soothes, and you recognize the pitch, the calm, affectionate tone from Johnny’s bedside. Sour nausea surges in your stomach, and your lungs fight the invisible hand that tightens around them. “Can you take a deep breath?” You shake your head, and he huffs a soft chuckle. “You can do it, just try. Through your nose, like this.” His chest expands, eye contact never breaking, and you try to follow suit, getting halfway before your head spins, vision tunneling. “You’re alright.”

You’re not alright. None of this is alright. You’re having a panic attack, in the stairwell at your job, in front of a patient’s partner.

You can’t speak, so you shake your head instead. No.

“Yes, you are.” He assures. “Everything’s okay. Focus on your breathing. Try another one for me.” His hand covers his heart, and you focus on the way it ebbs and flows with the movement of his diaphragm, the pace of his breaths.

You manage to get one full inhale and exhale. And then you get another. Then a third, a fourth, until it’s coming easier, and your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy.

“Good job, that’s it.” Your fingers twist together, the grating noise of your jagged breathing smoothing out even more, and Simon nods encouragingly. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” Sweetheart. The word is bright, boundless and sweet as honey, the sentiment settling in your belly and growing warm. The two of you stand there, just breathing, staring at one another, for what feels like an eternity, until you find the strength to summon words.

“I-I’m sorry.” You finally choke once you’ve got a better handle on yourself, hands going lax at your thighs.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” You’re about to brush it off, thorny lies starting to form in your mind, excuses and carefully crafted explanations fusing together when your work phone beeps, the low frequency different from the ones related to patient care. Shit. Already? Simon’s glances at it in your pocket and cocks his head.

“End of my shift.” You explain, moving towards the stairs, your hand trembling on the button to silence the alarm. The muscles in his neck flex, molars grinding together.

“Still feeling a little shaky?” He observes, and you look down to your feet, mortification crawling up your spine, blooming across your cheeks through heated blood vessels.

“Um…”

“Would you mind, maybe sitting with Johnny for a bit?” You do still have notes to do. “If his test is done? I have to run home, help the Prices' put Penny down. She’s been a bit fickle, lately. Missin’ her Da.” He rubs the back of his neck, chest flexing inside the charcoal grey hoodie, and for a weird, too long second, you wonder what it might be like to fall asleep there, or just close your eyes for a minute, even though it's something sweet and far away, unobtainable in every facet. Simon says your name, jogging your attention, and then takes the first step, partially turning like he wants to reach for you, but thinks better of it.

“Uh. Yeah, I… I can.”

You badge out and grab your stuff, keeping your tablet so you can complete your notes while you sit with Johnny. You’ve already checked his results, and when you slip inside the room, the attending is updating them, explaining how he has a very small bile leak, and will need an endoscopic procedure tomorrow morning.

The attending excuses himself, giving you a quick nod, and then Simon leans down, knocking their foreheads together tenderly.

“Keep an eye on him, I hear he likes to make trouble.” Johnny smiles, pink-red color creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and Simon seems like he’s smiling, before he turns serious. “Behave. I won’t be too long.”

“I always behave.” He pats the side of the bed, beckoning you, and you shake your head, plopping down in the recliner to his right.

“I hear ye’re keepin’ me company, pretty girl?”

“I am. Got some notes to finish, heard this chair was pretty comfortable.” You quip back easily, and it feels natural, to be joking and laughing, to be hiding again.

“Well, I’ll try not to distract ye then.”

Your tablet clicks dark with a satisfying shutter, and when you place it face down, Johnny gives you one of his stupidly handsome smiles. “All finished?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” His phone vibrates against the tabletop, and with his good hand, he opens the message, turning it to show you the screen. It’s a picture of Penny, half asleep against Simon, clad in a pink onesie covered in little ducks. Her cheek is squished against him, long baby lashes fluttering on her skin. “She’s so cute.” You say, and he nods, flushed with pride. You glance at the contact name, Lou, and before you can stop yourself, a question bursts out: “Who’s Lou?”

“Our captain’s wife. She’s been helpin’ a lot, with Pen. Which is great, they’re getting a lot of girl time.”

“Your captain?”

“Aye.”

“Is that…” you want to ask but trail off. You don’t want to admit that you’ve heard gossip about them.

“Military. Simon an’ I work together, in a task force.” A task force. A task force sounds eerily close to special ops, and your nausea comes back with a vengeance.

“What… what kind of task force?”

“Global ops. Anti-terrorism, domestic threats, the lot. How I ended up here, with ye.” The image of your ex looms, his body tense in his gear, or the memory of his boots, sitting shiny by the door, one of them pulling back, swinging towards your stomach. “Bun?” Bun?

“Huh?” you blink. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”

“That’s alright. Simon said ye had a bit of a scare earlier?”

“No I uh, just couldn’t catch my breath, but I was fine. It was fine.” You deflect, moving on as quick as you can manage. “Did you call me bun? And… didn’t you call me bunny, earlier?” He gives you a sheepish look.

“Aye. Is our nickname for ye.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Well… ye look a bit like a bunny, and ye had that sticker the other day that Penny noticed.” Your face heats. “I know ye’re probably real soft like a bun, too.” Real soft? Is he… does he mean- your eyes widen, and he smirks.

“Johnny.” You flounder, helplessly, confused by his attention, this flirtation that seems to have grown into real affection, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward, reaching for your hand.

“Ye dinnae need to be afraid.” He coos. The words are a moon above a tide, pulling and reaching, dragging the swell of the waves higher and higher, until they threaten to pull you under, overwhelm you and drown you.

“I…” I don’t understand? I thought you were gay? I don’t know what is happening here? Johnny grimaces, and you immediately forget about the conversation and leap into action, jumping to your feet. “What is it? Where’s your pain?” Your hands hover over his belly, and he points to where his liver currently sits, slowly leaking inside his body, spilling bile that could eventually kill him if it hadn’t been caught. You pull down the blanket, unsnapping his gown to push it aside, checking for anything physically observable, site swelling, a rash, anything. “Does this hurt?” You cautiously press down, tapping slightly, watching his face for a reaction.

“No.” he says, and when you reach over to his other side, turning to watch his facial expressions, he moves with you, barely leaning, chin pointed in your direction.

His face is suddenly incredibly close to your face. And he looks… so handsome. So pretty, with his bright blue eyes and perfect bones, soft lips that part with an inhale. He dazzles you. Distracts you.

This is your patient, get it together. You’re a professional, act like it.

“Does that hurt?” You croak, and his lips quirk into a half smile, a warm palm gliding over the small of your back.

“It doesnae hurt, bun.” He winks.

“Oh my god, were you faking?” You try to stand up, but the pressure on your spine is firm, and he chuckles.

“Can I tell ye a secret?” He’s fully serious now, question whispered just above your ear, and you nod.

“Of course.”

“Ye’v been drivin’ me mad today, pretty girl. Walkin’ around here wit’ no panties on.” Oh. Oh… my god. You shoot upwards, hand covering your mouth in shock, and he laughs, raising an eyebrow before his gaze drifts over the curve of your hip.

“Johnny!” you hiss, scandalized, and then guilt hits you like a train, like two tons of rocks have been dropped on top of you. Simon. “Johnny, you… you and Simon, you’re-“

“We’re lucky ye’ve come into our lives.” He finishes, and you frown, confused. “We think ye’re really special.” We. We?

“What did I miss?” Simon says from the doorway, and you jerk, stepping back like Johnny’s bed is on fire and you’ve just been burnt, eyes wide and wild. You feel like a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar, but Simon doesn’t look angry. Just curious.

“Jus’ talking.” Johnny replies, and he starts to lower his bed, watching you with heavy eyes.

“Well. I should get going. I’ve got a few trains to make.” You glance at the clock, and then give them both a polite smile. Simon crosses his arms.

“Looks like you tired him out.” He comments, and they glance at one another, some sort of communication happening silently before he shrugs. “Let me drive you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s not… you just got back, and I’m fine, really. It’s not that far, I-“

“If it’s not that far, let him drive ye.” Johnny pipes up, and Simon piles on easily.

"He's not going to let this go, and neither am I. Let me get you home safely, please." You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. "It's the least we can do." Your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s just a ride. It’s not crossing a line.

“Okay, then.” Johnny smiles, and Simon moves to his side, brushing his mask covered mouth against his forehead.

“She go down okay?” Johnny murmurs, tenderly cupping his cheek.

“Like a champ. Promised I’d bring her tomorrow morning. Think she understood me.”

“Aye. She’s smarter than ye, so probably.” He teases, and they share a lighthearted laugh before Johnny’s bidding you a goodbye, and Simon directs you out the door.

“Uh, right here is fine.” You point to the curb, and Simon slows the car to a stop, turning to face you with that ever-present scrutiny, brows shoved down above his eyes.

“A hotel?” You swallow.

“My um, my flat is being renovated. It’s a whole thing so I just figured I wo-would stay somewhere else.” You want to flee, run out of this car and away from him, but he holds you in place so easily with just his eyes, so you sit there, frozen, one hand on the door handle, the other splayed against your thigh.

“Is everything alright? Earlier-“

“I’m fine.” You rush out, cutting him off. It’s well practiced, the denial, the avoidance, these things that you normally excel out.

But nothing is normal with them.

He cocks his head, and then nods, and you breathe a little easier, turning to push the door open.

“Wait.” A hand tugs at you, thick, warm fingers lightly touching your wrist, and you whip back around to face him, eyes wide. “If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Oh, I uh… I’m fine, I don’t need-“

“That doesn’t work on me. Johnny either, pretty girl.” He tells you, and it’s so firm, so strong backed, that your mouth goes dry, and you gape at him. What? What doesn’t work? Is he… is he saying he doesn’t buy it? Doesn’t believe you? He’s reading your mind, subtly raising an eyebrow, and then nodding. “Put my number in your phone.” He instructs, and like a robot, like a vampire’s Thrall, you pull it from your bag, swiping open the contact list and pressing each number in the order he gives it. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks once you’re finished, and you mumble a shaky yes, finally pushing the door open, and climbing out.

“Alright, well. Good night.” You bend at the waist, giving him a wave through the window, and his jaw moves beneath the mask, shifting to the side, eyes squinting at the corners. He's smiling.

“Good night, bunny.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap x ghost

2K notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 9 months

Note

Jason is a hopeless romantic 100%

it just doesnt show

But everyone goes to him whn its time to plan dates

Dick: Hey, can I ask you something?

Jason, reading: No.

Dick: You see, Wally and I have our weekly date night coming up, but we've been to pretty much every place there is. You got any ideas for how to shake things up?

Jason: *scribbles coordinates and tosses him the Bat-plane keys*

[later]

Wally: Wow, I've never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Dick: I'm glad you like it.

Dick: *texts Jason a thumbs up*

Jason: *read at 8:55 PM*

———————

Tim: Jason, glad you're here! I totally forgot it's me and Bernard's six-month anniversary. Help me out, man.

Jason, clipping his toenails: Fine. You better write this down 'cause I'm only saying it once.

Tim: *nods*

Jason: Go to Home Depot. You're gonna need some rope, a tarp, hammer and nails, a hatchet, matches, and fuel. After that...

Tim: *furiously takes notes*

[later]

Bernard: A camping trip was a great idea. It's nice to get away from it all. And I can't believe you set this all up yourself.

Tim, chuckling nervously: What's a boyfriend for if not to build a tent and chop down a tree?

———————

Duke: So the school dance is coming up.

Jason, working: Theme?

Duke: Under the sea.

Jason: Ugh, how cliché. Anyway, Armand's Tailoring has a blue suit that'll match whatever your girlfriend's wearing. Tell him I sent you. After that, call Patricia's Bistro and make a reservation with the code word "surreptitious." Alfred can take you in the limo if you give him a 24-hour heads-up to clean it. Once you're there, remind the DJ he owes me a favor to get your song requests bumped up. And remember, a slow dance is basically moving your feet in a square but otherwise go with the flow.

Duke: Sweet, thanks!

———————

Cass: Steph is sad.

Jason, cooking: *sighs*

Jason: *takes out a tub of ice cream*

Jason: *scoops a hole in the middle*

Jason: *fills it with candy*

Jason: Here.

Cass: Thanks!

———————

*phone rings*

Jason, waking up from a nap: What?

Kory: Sorry if I woke you. Barbara's coming over for breakfast in half an hour but I burned it with my powers. It was supposed to be eggs benedict.

Jason: Order takeout and put it on fancy plates.

Kory: You're a lifesaver—

Jason: *already hung up and went back to sleep*

———————

Kate: It's Renee's birthday tomorrow. I have a gift, but I'm not sure if it's good enough.

Jason, polishing his gun: If it's from you, it will be.

———————

Bruce: *walks in*

Bruce: Hey, son. Selina's not talking to me after our argument. How do I tell her how much she means to me?

Jason, reciting Shakespeare: I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, "I love you."

Bruce: You're right. I'm just gonna tell it to her straight. Thank you.

Bruce: *leaves*

Jason: *takes off his headphones and turns around*

Jason: Did someone say something?

———————

Damian: Todd, what is love supposed to feel like?

Jason: Why do you want to know?

Damian: None of your concern. Now tell me.

Jason: *shoots a training dummy*

Jason: It's when they're lodged in your head like a bullet. Except without the excruciating pain and messy red stuff.

Damian, nodding: Tell me more.

———————

Roy: *takes down a villain*

Jason, sitting on a roof: *wolf whistles*

Roy: The hell?

Jason: I know hot when I see it.

Roy: What are you doing here?

Jason: I brought Arrowdogs.

Roy: You hate Arrowdogs.

Jason: But you don't.

Roy: Aw, how sweet—EYES UP HERE, TODD!

2K notes · View notes

carmenized-onions · 4 months

Text

Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths

logline; locking down chairs and a sweaty sleep deprived man (for now) (for the night) (platonically) (for now) (what?) (I didn't say anything).

series history, this is the third; First, Second

portion; 4.5k+

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (baby, Tony's mentally ill, get WITH it). We are once again, eatin' meat (beef!). Did I give the reader a curly girl routine? ....Perhaps...

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'girl' is thrown around quite a bit.)

is this entire series just a love letter to me wanting to take care of this guy? maybe so. maybe so.

Lifesaver. Lifesaver. Lifesaver.

Alright, fuck, you need to put on something to listen to because the thought isn’t leaving and the cherry lifesaver swirling in your mouth is so ironic that it’s leaving a bitter taste.

It’s after hours at The Bear, just after midnight, and you’ve returned to a clinically cleaned restaurant, ‘Ah… Syd keeps it locked in.’ and you’re thankful that you’re alone because it means everyone’s getting their proper rest. However, it also means your intrusive thoughts are really drilling in tonight.

You drop your phone on one of the booth tables, blasting music at full volume. That’s better. Little more static to work with now. You measure each booth and table for the third time tonight, rechecking that the angles are exactly as Syd had asked. They’re still perfect. Alright, get a move on, it’s not gonna somehow get more correct than correct…

You slip yourself under the table, verifying that the bolts are the proper fit— Also for the third time today. Hey, what if Home Depot fucked you earlier?! It’s important to check! You’re definitely not unreasonably anxious right now! But your power drill is practically screaming to be used at this point, so you acquiesce.

You’re on the last bolt when you hear a click of the front door opening.

“Fuck!” It scares you so shitless you jump and knock the top of your head on the table. You lay down quickly, back pressed to the floor to get a look at the perp. You point your power drill menacingly toward the front door.

Oh.

“Fuck are you doing here?” You and Carmen manage to speak in perfect unison.

There’s a beat before you opt to go first.

“Bolting.” Still lying under the table. You raise your drill upward, revving it a few times.

He swallows, sniffs, and scratches his nose. “Thought you were doing that tomorrow?”

“Technically it is tomorrow.” He scoffs, so you continue. “No, uh, Nat asked if I could come in after hours so I’m not as much of an active tripping hazard.” You gesture to yourself on the floor.

“Smart.” He rubs his eyes. He looks red and pink all over.

“…Thought you were getting off early today?”

“I did.” He clears his throat when you make a face about it. “I—I uh, did leave early, I just, just thought I’d come in and uh… Do some work.”

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing after a beat. “I’m, I’m uh, I’m good— In, in the kitchen.”

You chew at your inner cheek, staring at a very clearly distressed Carmy. His eyes are lined red, hair is in disarray.

“…Did you do it?” Did you break up with your girlfriend?

“…Yeah. I-I did.”

You just nod, thoughtful, before slipping back under the table, finishing drilling in the last bolt. “If you need a palate tester, lemme know.”

“Heard.”

The moment is soft but then cut short by you scrambling to quiet your phone atop your table when a perfectly unfitting upbeat song starts to sing out at max volume. He hides his smile poorly as he heads into the kitchen.

It’s a nice hour or so, in the front of house. You drill each bolt efficiently, grounding each booth and table in their place permanently. Your tunes play at a much lower volume now, careful to not alert the lone chef in the back. The intrusive thoughts have vanished with Carmen around, even if distant. He might not consider himself a brightening presence, but to you, he certainly is a nice lamp.

You stand up finally, finished, doing a big stretch of your arms and a crack of your back. You notice Carmen looking at you through the glass. He looks away, then back again, raising a hand, motioning for you to come in. Looks like you finished right on time.

It smells fucking incredible in here. You’re once again trying to temper your reaction as you pass through the door, not wanting to stroke his ego, but he’s already clocked it. It’s okay, you clock his boyish smirk of pride before he hides it with his hand, so you’re even.

On the steel table, plated— On their one black plate, because he’s not over having to settle for less— Are three perfectly cubed and seared pieces of marbled meat, glazed mushrooms, and some round breaded things that you’re not quite sure about. All perfectly plated and decorated with greens, parsley, specifically.

You step next to him, staring at the plate intently, taking it in visually. “Well?”

He hums in a way that sounds like a laugh, arms crossed. He stares at his own plate just as intently. “Pan-seared Wagyu— Sirloin. Wild mushrooms, basted in the same fat. Hazelnut-potato croquettes—”

“What the fuck is that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, he just smiles— In a way that looks actually kind of genuine. He likes to teach. “Seasoned mashed potatoes, basically. Breaded with bread crumbs and hazelnut, in this case, and fried. There’s a gruyere center, to this one.”

You don’t miss the fact that he’s not stuttering anymore. He’s right. He’s good in the kitchen. In all the ways that entails.

“Test?” He lifts a fork to you. You take it.

You lean forward, elbow on the table. You take polite, small cuts of each part of the meal initially, it feels bad to destroy what is an art piece.

But then he leans forward, head meeting your level, amusement lilting his voice. “You know it’s a compliment to eat?”

You huff, taking a larger piece of everything to get it all in one bite. Everything is so soft and lush that you don’t need a knife. Goddamn. You take your bite. Son of a bitch.

You thought fucking brisket was good?

“Oh my god.” You put your hand in front of your mouth as you chew, switching your gaze to him. “Carmen, oh my fucking god!”

“Yeah?” His glow is slowly coming back to him, like a flickering halo. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Fuckin’— So good! What is it, fire? Excellent? What’s the top one? I’m angry that it’s this good.”

“Angry is a new one.”

“I’m furious!” You laugh, “I always thought luxury dining was fuckin’ scam, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I— I took one bite and I’m incredibly full and— And, it’s just— It’s really really good, Carm—Chef. Gotta show it to Syd for the menu.”

He nods, smiling, finally, unhidden. “Thank you, Chef.”

He grabs the fork from you to try for himself, but before he can get to his own plate, you press the back of your hand to his chest, holding him back. “Uh, ah, can I do a thing, for you?”

He squints, curiously, putting his fork down. “…Yes?”

You grin, walking around the kitchen the second he affirms it. “Where’s your wine box?”

“Ah… By expo, over…” He points to it.

You pop it open, hand waving over each bottle for the right one you’re searching for. “I’ll pay for it.”

“S’fine.”

A young Pinot Grigio, you go with. Ripe, sweet, airy. You walk by him again, grazing your hand on the small of his back and placing the bottle in front of him. “Open, don’t pour.”

“Heard.” He roots away for the bottle opener.

“And get me a clean knife and cutting board!”

“Fuck are you doin?” He doesn’t complain, getting what you ask for, but he is quite curious.

You sort through the fruit pantry in Marcus’ section, grabbing the most perfect white peach you can— It wouldn’t be perfect by morning, he won’t mind. “I am an occasional bartender and poor man’s sommelier…”

You meet him back at his station, slicing the peach thinly with the knife he’s left for you. “So, when I’m given the chance to pair a meal, I try to.”

You halve the thin slices, then place a few in each glass Carmen’s so kindly set out for you— Tulip bowled cups. You whistle, “You know your shit…”

His eyes light up, just a bit. He shrugs, handing you the uncorked bottle when you reach for it. “My job.”

“You’re good at it.” You pour the wine, proper— No stops missed for Carmen. “Okay, okay, okay…”

You hand him his glass— The one you think you did a slightly better peach placement on. “Alright, now you can have the dish you worked hard on.”

With a small smile, he takes a generous bite of his dish, takes his time digesting it, then sips your wine. He tilts his head, surprised by how much of a liking he’s taking to it. “S’fire. Well worth it.”

You sip your own glass, smiling, you explain before he can ask you to. “Yeah? Good. Citrusy white to cut the fat of wagyu. Or something. Poor man’s sommelier, y’know.”

“Hm.” He sniffs, and you try not to light up when he writes down the wine pairing at the bottom of his drafted recipe card. “Better than me.”

There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. “You gonna head out?”

You squint at him, head tilted. “Are you?”

Once you know one Berzatto, you’ve known them all. Their tells included.

“…Eventually, yeah.”

“You drive?”

“I take the L.”

“Are you on the red or blue line?”

He doesn’t answer. So, that tells you he’s not on the only two 24-hour lines.

“…I’ll take a transfer—”

“When were you planning on going?” You cross your arms; he can tell where this is going and he hates it. You’re foiling his plan.

“When I’m done.”

“Done what?”

“…Cleaning.”

“I’ll help you,” You pick up the cutting board and knife swiftly. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I need to get work done—Too.” He takes a while to reply, but when he does, he speaks with haste.

You pause, putting the cutting board down. Let’s do the math here.

He said he came in ‘early’ this morning, but ‘early’ probably meant overnight because of the Fridge Guy. He left early, sure, before the dinner rush— But only to experience his first breakup—If you can call it that. Then he’s come back at midnight again, after everyone else has left. The likelihood he’s slept since the night before his opening isn’t impossible, but if he did sleep, he slept here. And he definitely hasn’t showered. He’s likely been awake 40 hours.

You nod, picking up the board again, walking it to the sink. You stand over it in thought.

“What’s wrong with home, Carm?”

“It’s gonna hit, if I go home.”

He swallows, “Everything’s gonna hit, when I go home.”

Now that you can understand. You nod, scrubbing the cutting board clean. “When your brother died, I holed up at my parents’ for two weeks.”

You don’t turn off the sink, even after you're done cleaning, because if you do, you fear he will hear your tell-tale heartbeat. “When I came back, my plants were half dead and my fridge was a biohazard.”

He sniffs, he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, for you to tell him he has to go home, that it only gets worse if you wait it out, that he needs to find a better way to deal with this—

“You can hole up at mine.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head to look at him. He’s very hard to read but it looks like he’s entertaining the idea. You add, for the sake of levity, “You need a fuckin’ shower, man.”

He smirks, though the amusement doesn’t meet his eyes. “When I shower all my fuckin’ hairs gonna fall out.” He piles his dirtied utensils and boards, sidling up to the sink next to you.

“You need rosemary water.” You grab a dish rag, switching over to dry for him.

“Does that shit actually work?” You both quickly ebb into the domestic flow of handing off dishes. He mumbles ‘left-most drawer’, ‘top-shelf, right side’, and so on whenever you’re confused about where they go once they’re dry.

“It does. I have also had the ‘am I balding?’ crisis. Believe it or not.”

He stares at your hairline so intently you put your hand in front of it, flustered. He finally flicks his gaze back to yours. “If you’re really worried, you can make it pretty easy—”

“I’ll stay over.”

You take a second to register, then nod happily.

“Good. Where’s the black plate go?”

Your apartment is surprising because it’s built on top of an H&R Block, the concrete stairs leading up to it are chipped to hell, and the front door has clearly been graffitied then painted over then graffitied then painted over then graf—

And yet, it is almost certainly one of the best-looking apartments he’s seen in Chicago— On the inside at least.

None of the furniture matches, but it’s nice, it’s eclectic. It’s heavily thrifted and upcycled from furniture you found on the side of the road. That’s the nice thing, about being a fixer—Nothing’s trash if you believe in yourself. You drop your keys in a handmade clay tray— That’s the other thing Carm notices, so much of this is you alone.

The place is a mess, there’s half-finished projects in the corner of every room, tools strewn in odd places. And it’s perfectly welcoming. Warm. In a literal sense, too, because there’s a humidifier going off on a timer in the living room to make what Carmen estimates are your forty thousand plants and cuttings happy.

This is a perfect apartment because you live in it.

Nothing can hit, in here.

He comes back to reality when you reach your hand out to him, there’s a coat hanger in your other hand. Oh. Jacket.

“Oh, fuck.” He peels off his jacket, handing it to you. “I uh, I left your Carhartt at work.”

“S’fine, if I was in a rush for it back, I would’ve asked.” You brush off easily, hanging up the jean jacket in your small coat closet. “Ah…”

Your apartment has a pretty open layout, but you point at everything regardless.

“There’s the kitchen…” It’s on the right at the entry, with an open archway— Which you’re in the middle of rounding the corners on with plywood.

“The living room…” Straight ahead, he can see the half of it that isn’t blocked by the kitchen. You’ve got big windows, with a fire escape. Suncatchers and more plants are hanging from the ceiling by it.

“To the left, down the hall— The only hall, bathrooms on the right and straight ahead is the bedroom, you can put your shit there.”

His brows furrow, you say the last part quickly, and he’s going to say something but you grab the black plate he’s brought and brush past him to the kitchen.

So, he just shrugs off his backpack, “Heard.” And heads down the hall. For now.

It feels odd to put this very fancy, very expensive one black plate on top of the rest of your own cheap dishware— But he insisted you take it, so, here it is.

You march down the hall, going to grab towels for him from your room, but stop short when you hear him in the bathroom, mumbling, “Fuck is this?”

You peek in, “Fuck is what?” You come in when he turns the bottle in his hand for you to look at. You stare at it for a solid few seconds, genuinely alarmed, you look at Carmen with wide eyes.

“Carmy, look me in my eyes and tell me you know what conditioner is.”

“I—I know what conditioner is, but what are all the words for?”

“All the words?”

“Like, strengthening, bonding, texture—”

“Carmen?!”

“Don’t say my name like that…”

“You have wavy hair, too, Bear!” You stare wide-eyed, mouth in an open-mouth smile because if you don’t laugh you’ll start screaming. You swipe away the hair in front of his face, holding the tress between your fingers to get an idea of texture. You’re too focused to clock the way he flinches— At the nickname and the touch.

“We’ve got like, the same hair texture! What the fuck are you using?”

He doesn’t answer, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Carmen…” You can make a pretty good guess. He bristles again. He has discovered does not like it when you say his name with any sort of animosity or disappointment.

“Carmen no… Two in One?”

“…Five in One.”

“Five in One?!” You clutch the sides of your head. “What are the Five?!”

He waves his hands in defense, “It’s—”

“Y’know what, don’t fuckin’ tell me, I don’t wanna know, I don’t need to know.” You cover your face and shake your head. “Just— I will get you clothes and a towel, wash—” You reach into your shower, grabbing your fruity body wash. “—Wash yourself with this, like a civilized person— And just don’t— Don’t touch your hair, I’ll take care of your hair after you shower.”

“You’ll take care—”

“You’ve lost your hair privileges; I will be taking up the arms.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I just—You need a tutorial, please.”

He holds the body wash in his hand, debating this fight or not, “I think five is—”

“Just fuckin’ say heard.”

“Heard.”

Despite everything, you both laugh. You tap the doorway on your way out, yelling to no one as you turn back down the hall. “Corner!” It’s worth it when he laughs again.

Ironically, the one shirt you know will fit him that you have is ‘The Berf’, so you grab that. Pants are a bit tougher, but with enough scrounging through your closet you find a long-forgotten pair of sweatpants your brother left here ages ago.

You approach the bathroom door, it’s still ajar, so you invite yourself in. He’s staring at your skincare products with a clinical fascination, stopping only to acknowledge your presence.

“Alright, alright.” You pop your pile of things down on the sink counter, handing each thing to him individually.

“New toothbrush.” Still packaged. It’s got your dentist’s address on the clear plastic. “Pyjamas. Towel, wash cloth— I think you’re good.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you catch the tail end of him staring— Again, his eye contact is so soft and also scary. And now that the sleep is catching up to him, he’s half-lidded and— Goddamn it he is very pretty, sonofabitch.

He straightens up, sniffing, nodding as a form of thanks, the likelihood he’s registered anything you’ve said isn’t likely— Which is fine, you are now too flustered to care. There’s a boy in your house and you’ve just discovered he’s pretty.

“I’m just gonna wash my face n’ grab a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

You wash your hands; he unwraps his toothbrush. And without verbally checking in, you once again flow into a silent rhythm. You grab your toothbrush, dole out toothpaste on both of your brushes, and stare at yourselves and each other in the mirror, side by side as you brush.

You make a face, and while he doesn’t fuckin’ guffaw, he does smile, foam peeking through the corners of his mouth, and that’s enough for you.

You rinse— You try to be dainty about it but it’s not, because when has brushing your teeth ever been dignified?

You pump face cleanser into your palm, then nod to him to do the same. Good Carm, he listens. Like a mime tutorial, he follows your actions of foaming it in the hands and properly washing his face. There’s hope for this five in one boy yet.

You pile together your skincare and leave him to shower in peace. More importantly, leave to let yourself lose it in peace.

Oh my god there’s a pretty boy in your bathroom and it’s two in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking? You just invited him over without hesitation? You met him like barely two days ago! Oh my god! There’s a pretty boy in your bathroom! And it’s two! In the morning!

You need to kill the teenage girl in your head because she’s freaking you the fuck out. You were literally being so calm and chill and cool and cool and chill and calm— Oh my god you’re doing it again—

Everything is fine. He’s literally here because he’s experiencing a torrential downpour of awful. You invited him over because you’d invite anyone like that over. Pretty or not. Get your head in order.

You take a deep, mindful breath and exhale, returning to neutral as you meditatively go through your skincare routine and change into your nice pajamas— Y’know, the one modest matching set for when you have guests or go somewhere. Instead of the one usual incredibly stained oversized t-shirt.

You set up a chair by your kitchen sink, towel on the back for comfort. You were serious about the hair thing. Your scalp and his are curly girl sisters, you cannot leave them to die like this.

When he comes out, knots in his back undone, steam wafting, grime finally removed, he approaches you with much more energy, and leans against the doorway. You both speak at once.

“Weird to see you out of uniform.”

You snort; he flattens his mouth into a line to keep from smiling too hard (which, for Carmen, would really just mean smiling with his teeth). But really, it is weird. You’re both suddenly… People. You can see all his tattoos and his stupid gold chain...And he can see you.

You kick the chair with your foot, gesturing to it. “Sit, I’m washing your hair.”

You’re walking past him before he’s got the chance to deny, collecting proper products from the bathroom to use. Y’know. Not fucking five in one.

Once again, good Carm listens, sitting in the chair. Not without complaints, though. “Big fan of babying people?”

You wrap the towel behind his neck, tilting his head back into the sink. If you pretend, it’s like a salon. You hum in reply, blunt, “Yeah, I am.”

“I like to take care of people. In a way, it’s kind of my job.” You re-rinse his hair once the water is warm— Thank God your kitchen faucet is a sprayer.

“You’re good at it.” He’s too comfortable and lethargic to be aggro about this, so he’s just sweet and honest. It’s hard not to beam.

“I try.” You massage shampoo through his scalp, “I know I’m pushy about it, sometimes.”

He sighs, a breath of relief. When’s the last time someone else washed his hair? He’s been cutting his own for years, he cannot remember the last time. Had to have been before New York.

“Were you pushy with Mikey?” He’s not fully sure why he said that, and he’s waiting for you to make him regret asking it.

You just hum, nostalgically amused, “I think I got pushy because of Mikey.”

“Stopped hoping my friends would take care of themselves with the right tools and decided to just take care of them myself.” You rinse the bubbles from his hair. You’re happy to see his wavy pattern returning.

“A lot of work.”

“Not to me.”

You pump conditioner into your hand— And while he’d probably love for you to elaborate on that point, you have to pivot, “Alright, this part you actually should pay attention to— When you condition— Because you will be conditioning, from this point on.”

He just grunts in reply, but it sounds like enough of a yes to you.

“—When you do it, you’ll hang your head upside down and apply conditioner from the bottom— You gotta like, squeeze your hair in it—” You do the proper routine, squelching his hair, does he laugh at the sound? Yes. Yes, he does. “It’ll sound like that. And then rinse.”

You look at his peaceful, amused expression. His eyes closed. “Heard.”

“Are you retaining any of this?”

“I said heard, didn’t I?”

You just scoff, rinsing his hair. You teach him how to scrunch with the towel, but his eyes are so dazed during it you give the poor boy a break and don’t explain that what you’re putting in his hair is mousse. He might have an aneurysm if you use a ‘food word’ in relation to hair right now.

“Alright, alright, the exhaustion is setting in, let’s get you to bed before you start seeing spiders.” You take his arm and hoist him up. Everything is fine until this bozo tries walking to the living room while you’re trying to pull him down the hall. You once again, speak in sync.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking the couch.”

He now realizes why you spoke so quickly about him putting his things away in your room instead of the living room. It’s like you just awoke every Italian ancestor in his bones because he is immediately alert.

“No, you’re not.”

That’s fine because he’s in your household, motherfucker. Your family tree is in the furniture.

“You’re the guest. You take the bed.”

“You’re the host. You take the bed.”

“I’m the one that invited you.”

“And what? You’re the girl.”

At a point, you are both speaking with your hands, words tumbling on top of each other's.

“Bitch—” “It’s just not right—” “I literally made you come over specifically to get proper rest—” “I will be haunted all night by my Nonna if you sleep on the couch—” “The couch is a pull-out, it’s comfortable!” “Then let me use it!” “No!”

This is going nowhere fast.

“My own grandmother takes the couch when I visit. She would throw me off my own balcony if I made a guest take the couch.” Is your hard stance.

And his, “My Nonno would stab me if I let a pretty girl sleep on a couch.”

Now this does immediately shut you the fuck up.

That doesn’t mean he’s won; he’s also shut the fuck up. A slip-up of mutually assured destruction.

You bite back your wheeze of shocked laughter, and you’re very thankful it’s two in the morning now because the moonlight through the window doesn’t entirely catch your reaction of being embarrassingly bashful in this moment. How did the teen girl in you survive? You were so sure you got her…

Your hands hang in the air for a moment, before you finally manage to say, “Either I take the couch—”

“No—”

“Or, it’s a double, so we share it.” You shrug, wringing your hands, “So whichever one you find the least sacrilege.”

God, there’s no simple way to make that not sound like you’re coming onto him, is there? You’re not, for the record. It’s just the fastest solution. You’ve shared beds before, it’s not a big deal— It’s actually only a big deal if you make it one, it’s actually very normal—Get this fucking teen out of here—!

“Fuckin’— Alright!” He huffs after thinking on it for some time, rubbing his forehead in some sort of anguish before marching down the hall.

When you don’t follow, he clicks his teeth. “C’mon, Tony.” His tone is languid and aggravated.

Ah, the sweet sound of a man who has had to compromise— But will be damned if he doesn’t get his part of said compromise. Also the sound of a man who really wishes he hadn't just said pretty girl.

You follow him to your room. Fuck it. Say the thing. You've been trying to keep a level social playing field with him anyway.

“Heard, pretty boy!"

two idiots realize the other one is pretty and nice and try to not acknowledge it (DIFFICULTY LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

Would you believe me if I said I was trying to not do the 'one bed' trope? I really was! I'm not a huge trope guy! But writing it down I was like 'neither of these people would fucking fold'. The only other option would be for both of them to stare at each other in the hallway for 8 hours and come to no agreement. Did not plan Pretty Girl but thank god because it was the only thing that would get them out of that time loop.

It's always my favourite thing when a person who's been cavalier when it comes to boundaries suddenly finds their line (he's pretty) and is now immediately so hyphy. I hope you also messed with this.

Tell me your thoughts!! Favourite bits, lines, etc!! Feeds me!! (Oh, speaking of fed, shout out to Daniel NYC, I did steal their menu for this. I'll probably do it again because I am not a Michelin Star Chef.)

Next Part

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear

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nathaslosthershit · 6 months

Text

Everyone's Favorite Uncle (TD!OP81)

(Part 6 of Teen Dad [Can be read on its own]) Summary: The 1st time Logan met the Piastri twins and the 3 other times he cemented himself as the favorite honorary uncle. Warnings: Mentions of the 'Tensions Rise' fight. But mostly a whole lot of fluff

1. First Meeting

At 3 months old, the twins hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t family, their parents being extra cautious about bringing them around new people. As expected, these first 3 months as parents had been far from easy for 19 year old Oscar and 18 year old Honey. Especially now that Frances, their daughter, had started teething earlier than usual. Being as it was a painful experience for the newborn, Frances had been non stop crying, causing her brother, Hudson, to cry in return. After days of minimal sleep, the house was a mess and so was everyone in it.

After weeks of asking, Oscar had finally let Logan come over to see the twins. Had he known what the state of his home would be at the time, he probably would have pushed back the visit even more, but Logan refused to let Oscar cancel for something as trivial as a messy house. But he was unprepared for just how messy the home he was entering was going to be.

Fortunately, when Logan had arrived, all seemed well in the house. The twins were awake and not crying, and Honey had gotten a quick power nap in while Oscar tried to clean up the living room. Logan had noticed the lack of energy his long time friend seemed to have when he entered but he had brushed it off as the first few months of fatherhood having drained his energy. They talked for a bit while Honey fed the kids in the other room, all seemed well until…

“Oscar, she is crying again and I just fed and changed her. She isn’t due for a nap either. God, I think it's her teeth again. Can you go get the teething ring? I think it's in the fridge.” Honey asked as she barged into the room, clearly stressed.

Oscar immediately got up to check the fridge while Honey offered a quick hello to Logan. After a few minutes of silence and Oscar making loud banging noises that only made Frances cry harder, he came back in, empty handed.

“It's not there, love. Could you have placed it somewhere else?” He asked, starting to panic as Frances’ cries got louder.

Logan felt awful watching this go down. He knew it wasn’t his fault but guilt ate away at him while he stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Crap, I don’t think I washed it. It may be next to the sink? I'll go wash it while you get the soothing gel. Um… Logan, can you hold her?” Even though Honey had phrased it like a question, Logan realized it was not as she shoved the baby in his hands. Thankfully he had held babies before so he wasn’t so helpless, but this pressure to not hurt the screaming child did make him shake a little.

Sitting down on the couch, he readjusted the baby in his arms, starting to sway her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He watched as his two friends hurried off while he noticed Frances starting to quiet down. Minutes later when both parents barged in, they witnessed magic. Their previously fussy daughter was now cooing and giggling while in the arms of their long time friend.

“How?” Honey asked, too shocked to get out a full sentence.

“I-I don’t know she just stopped crying and started staring at me.” Logan replied with the same amount of shock in his voice.

“You are a miracle worker.” Oscar said. At this, Logan looked up at the two teen parents, taking in their disheveled states. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad.

An idea came to his head.

“You two go clean yourselves and rest a little, I’ll watch her. Maybe bring Hudson in so I can meet him as well.” Logan demanded. He wouldn’t have used such a commanding tone if he didn’t think they would fight him on this. As much as they needed the extra time to themselves, they were far too humble, maybe even stupid, to ask for help.

With a few quick ‘are you sure' and ‘you are a lifesaver’, the two parents slowly backed out of the room after bringing their son in.

They got two hours to shower and nap before it was time to take their kids back from Logan.

The twins might have been too young to realize it at the time, but this was the moment he became everyone’s favorite uncle, especially Honey and Oscar’s.

2. First words

Ever since Logan had met the twins a year ago, he had frequented the Piastri household to see the family. It was Valentine's day and Logan, having no plans or someone to spend it with, had stepped up to offer to babysit so the two parents could get a break. While he was happy to watch the kids, he also had ulterior motives for visiting.

For the past few months, ever since the twins turned 1, Oscar had been stressing about how long it was taking them to say their first words. Honey was less stressed than her boyfriend, as she knew she took much longer than most kids to say her first words and ended up fine, but it was getting to the point where she started to get a little cautious. What they didn’t know was that for the past few months Logan had been trying to throw his name into the mix. While Oscar tried to sound out the word “Dada'', and Honey pushed “Mama”, Logan had secretly been trying to get them to saw “LoLo”. He had gotten a ‘Lo’ from Hudson so far but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Don’t worry, I have done this so many times already. Go out and have a reasonable amount of fun, two kids is enough for you both for now.” Logan joked as he started pushing Honey and Oscar out of their own house. He didn’t feel the need to sit through a 45 minute lecture he had been given far too many times already.

Once they had left, Logan began his master plan. While he changed, fed, changed again, washed, and played with the twins, he kept repeating “LoLo” hoping they would finally bite and say it. Sadly though, there was nothing but the usual gibberish from the two.

He felt defeated as he opened the door to Oscar and Honey, who had clearly had a fun night as they came stumbling in. The kids were still up as they had napped late and Honey wanted to put them to bed once she got home.

“Thank you SO much Logan. You are a gift from God as usual.” Honey slurred as she went to change, leaving Oscar and Logan alone to talk.

As Logan packed up to head to his apartment, Oscar said hello to his kids. Just as he walked out the door, Logan heard a very clear and very distinct “LoLo” from behind him. As he turned around, he was met with Hudson reaching out to him and a completely stunned Oscar holding the one year old.

Realizing he had been caught, Logan entered fight or flight mod.

“Logan, what have you done?” Oscar asked in a stern tone.

“Nothing”

“Logan, talk.” Oscar had really mastered the Dad voice, he realized. Logan was a 20 year old man, he didn’t need to explain shit, but he still crumpled as Oscar looked at him.

“For the past few months I have been trying to teach your children to say “LoLo”. They hadn’t said it yet, I swear, this was the first time.” He rambled as if he was a kid that had been found with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oscar mentally facepalmed at the confession.

“Alright. Fine. I am mad but I will be even more upset if Honey finds out. Under no circumstances can she know that you did this, or that your name was her son’s first word. Got it?”

Without saying a word, Logan saluted the Australian in front of him and quickly left the household, shaking off the fear Oscar instilled in him but also thrilled he had been Hudson’s first word.

3. Logan saves the day

Hudson and Frances had been sick for the past week due to a virus they had caught at a playdate. Sadly, as the three year olds got better, their parents got worse.

As Oscar and Honey tried to push through the day, they became miserable due to the fact they couldn’t shake this virus off and that it was a beautiful day out that their kids had to miss out on because their parents were stuck inside. But after both twins gave their best puppy dog eyes to their father, pleading to go out, Oscar had no choice but to call in reinforcements.

45 minutes later, Logan had both twins in the backseat of his car as he drove to the nearest ice cream parlor.

Two hours, some big scoops of ice cream, and one park visit later, Logan carried two sleeping toddlers in his arms as he reentered the Piastri home.

4. Distractions

(This takes place during Tensions Rise so if you haven’t read it yet, I would advise you do so)

Wanting to give Honey a moment to collect herself, Logan walked the twins to his driver’s room where he had a very comfortable couch he knew they would fall asleep fast on. He gave them water and tucked them under some extra blankets he had and right before he got up to leave he heard Frances speak up.

“Lolo, does daddy not love us?” the three year old girl asked.

“Franny, why would you think that? Of course he does.” Logan did not feel equipped to have this conversation and started to panic, wondering if he should call for Honey.

But he knew she needed a bit of space.

“He didn’t have breakfast with us when he said he would and he made mommy cry outside when he didn’t come.” Hudson answered for his sister.

Logan took a deep breath as he tried to come up with some kind of answer.

“Me and Osc- your dad’s jobs are hard and take up a lot of time. Sometimes things happen and plans change, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Everytime he is traveling for work, he is always showing me pictures of you guys and telling stories. That is all he talks about!” Logan said, putting smiles on the two twin’s faces. “You know, when he and your mom found out they were having twins, I was one of the first people he told. We were teammates and he had such a big smile on his face during a team meeting that I forced him to tell me. Ever since then I knew he loved you both so much. Even if he hasn’t been around too much, I have no doubt he adores the two of you.”

With that, he gave the two kids a kiss on the forehead as he walked out of the room, hoping to cheer up their mother as much as he had helped them.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader

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ms-demeanor · 3 months

Note

(Bat 1/?) I fully support your fight to help those feral cats and all you do to educate people about the importance of keeping your damn cats indoors. I wanted to provide another example to your readers about the importance of staying up to date on rabies vaccines, even for fully indoor kitties. I have seven cats and a dog, most of whom sleep with me. Two years ago, I was woken up at 5 am by what I thought was a broken alarm or some crazy digital screeching. A bat somehow got into the house.

Continued:

(Bat 2/?) I quickly closed the bedroom door, locking the dog and three cats inside. Two cats were hunting the bat and had injured its wing, causing it to flop into a room with another cat. I grabbed Friday before she could kill the bat and threw her into a crate I keep in the studio (crates are out at all times and in every room). I threw a box over the injured bat and then found leather gloves. I slid a folder under the box and transferred the bat to another box lined with paper towels.

(Bat 3/?) I made sure I never touched the bat, even with gloves on. Bat was secured in the box for transport to the wildlife center when they opened. And then I isolated Minnow, Fig, and Friday from the other cats. When I got to the rec center, she said they could repair the bat's wing, but the exposed cats needed to get rabies boosters ASAP and she was required to report the incident to the CDC. My cats rabies vaccines were out of date, but they had them in the past and I had proof.

(Bat 4/4) Having proof of those past vaccines literally saved their lives. The CDC could have seized them and put them down. The vet said I had to quarantine them for 40 days- no petting or handling them; just give them food, water, and clean the boxes. It was hell for them and me and Minnow still won't go near a large crate years later. I escaped needing shots myself because I never touched the bat. So, yeah, get your indoor pets vaccinated! You never know when a bat or raccoon will get in.

That is so scary and such a great example of why it's important to keep vaccines up to date! Good job on your quick thinking with the box to trap the vet, and on isolating your animals to keep them safe! I'm so glad you and your pets weren't hurt beyond the stress of the extended quarantine!

The CDC and local health departments are *extremely, extremely* serious about possible rabies infections, so having proof of vaccination can be a literal lifesaver for your pets and getting them vaccinated is good peace of mind for you.

It *terrifies* me that Tiny Bastard has interacted with skunks recently and I don't think she's gotten close enough to be at risk but even if she had I know exactly when she's due for her rabies vaccine so I know that she's current and safe even though she got closer than I would like to a wild animal.

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bucksanklescrews · 24 days

Text

No- e.b. x fem!reader

warnings: baby talk, Jee-Yun being a menace

You snapped another pair of Evan's jeans, folding them neatly. "She said what?"

A loud clang of your pans being slapped together by a toddler rang out. Evan sighed. Despite loving his niece and wanting nothing more than to spend an afternoon, he had to admit to himself, and you, that he was way in over his head.

"She told me no."

You raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-fold. "She told you no?"

Evan nodded, exasperated. "Yeah, and then she threw her juice box at me like she was a major league pitcher. I didn’t even know she could throw that far!"

You couldn't help but chuckle, imagining the scene. "Well, she's definitely got a strong will. I'm glad that Maddie is teaching her well."

Evan ran a hand through his hair, clearly at the end of his rope. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but... I might need some help down here. Can you come down and work your magic with Jee-Yun?"

You chuckled, setting aside the folded jeans. "Oh, now you need my help?"

As you descended the stairs, the scene that greeted you made you pause. The entire apartment looked like a mini-tornado had swept through. Toys were scattered everywhere, a few pillows had been knocked off the couch, and right in the middle of it all was Jee-Yun, her clothes smeared with chocolate and her lips stained bright red from what you assumed was juice.

Evan stood a few feet away, his hands up in exasperation. "See? I tried everything—movies, snacks, toys—but she’s on a whole different level today."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the sight. "She certainly knows how to make a mess." You knelt down to Jee-Yun's level, smiling warmly. "Hey, sweetie. How about we watch a movie?"

Jee-Yun looked up at you with wide, defiant eyes and shook her head vigorously. "No!"

Evan threw his hands up dramatically. You laughed again, but this time you reached out and gently lifted Jee-Yun into your arms. To Evan’s surprise, she didn’t fight or resist. Instead, she nestled against your shoulder, her energy suddenly seeming to wane.

"Are you tired, sweetheart?" you asked softly.

Jee-Yun nodded meekly, her earlier defiance melting away.

Evan handed you the diaper bag, looking a bit bewildered. "How do you do that? She’s been running circles around me for hours."

You gave him a reassuring smile as you carried Jee-Yun upstairs. "Sometimes they just need a little comfort. It's exhausting being a toddler, you know."

In the bedroom, you wiped Jee-Yun's face clean, helped her change into fresh clothes, and then rocked her gently side to side. Her little eyes fluttered closed, and within minutes, she was fast asleep. You carefully laid her down on the bed, pulling the covers over her. As you turned to leave, you found Evan standing in the doorway, a look of pure relief on his face.

"You're a lifesaver," he whispered, trying not to disturb the sleeping child.

You shushed him as you motioned to the stairs.

Once in the living room, he sat down on the couch and gently pulled you onto his lap. His arms wrapped around you securely, and he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You giggled softly, feeling his warm breath tickle your skin. "That tickles," you whispered, trying to stifle your laughter.

Instead of pulling away, Evan pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, his lips brushing softly against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you leaned back slightly, meeting his gaze. His big blue eyes were full of affection and something else—something more serious. You reached up, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his hairline. The tender gesture made him close his eyes for a moment, savoring the connection between you two. When he opened them again, there was a sudden intensity in his gaze that caught you off guard.

Without preamble, he asked, "Do you want to have a baby?"

The bluntness of his question left you momentarily speechless. You studied his face, searching for any sign that he might be joking, but all you saw was sincerity. His eyes were wide, hopeful, yet tinged with uncertainty, as if he was laying his heart bare in that single question. Your hand stilled against his temple, and you bit your lip, considering the weight of his words. The idea of having a child with him, of creating a life together, suddenly felt very real, very possible. You felt a rush of emotions—excitement, fear, love—all colliding in your chest.

You smiled. "I've thought about it."

Evan's grip on you tightened slightly, his breath catching as he processed your admission. "And?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid to hope too much.

You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his, your fingers lightly trailing down the side of his face. "Eventually."

"Eventually?"

You nodded. You could see the mix of emotions flicker across Evan's face—relief, understanding, and a hint of disappointment—but mostly, there was love and patience. He nodded slowly, taking in your words.

"Okay," he said softly, his grip on you easing slightly but still holding you close. "Eventually is good. I can wait. As long as it's with you."

You smiled, touched by his understanding. "It will be," you assured him, your fingers still tracing gentle patterns along his jawline. "I just want to make sure we're both really ready, you know?"

Evan nodded again, his blue eyes softening as he gazed at you. "I get it. I want us to be ready too."

You smiled. "Plus, I think Christopher would make a really good babysitter- once he's a little bit older."

Evan chuckled softly, the tension from the earlier conversation easing as a playful smile spread across his face. "Yeah, I can see that." He grinned, his arms still wrapped around you as he looked into your eyes. "And until then, we’ll just enjoy our time with him and Jee-Yun. Plenty of practice, right?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "Exactly. We’ve got all the time in the world."

Evan leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and you could feel the love and understanding behind it. When he pulled back, his smile was warm and full of affection. "I like the sound of that."

#911 x reader #evan buckley #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #911 fanfic #writing #911 fic #911 abc #evan buck buckley #dad!evan buckley

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stubz · 9 months

Text

"Human Max?"

"Mmyesh?"

"Why'd you ruffle my feathers?"

"Oh, I used to do that to your sister when she came here. I won't do it anymore if you don't like it though."

"No. I liked it. It was kinda like when Mom and Dad clean my feathers. Tickly and scratchy."

"Well that's good."

"...Human Max?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you ruffle Salia's feathers?"

"Hmmmm, Iiiiiii don't know. I just did it without thinking."

"Why?"

"Maybe because my family did that to me when I was a kid and so I wanted to continue that with you kids."

"Why?"

"Why I wanted to continue it or why my family did that to me?"

"Both!"

"Emira why do you do this to me. Oookay! Lemme think for a sec" they said while thinking of an answer to hopefully prevent the why apocalypse.

"Uhhh-I think it's because humans just like physical touch from people we like, love and care about...Yeah! In fact, if we don't get enough we get touch-starved."

"This sounds like a trick."

"Would I ever trick you?"

"Yes, you said that humans will die from loudness to keep us from screaming too much."

"...you got me there but I promise you I am not lying."

"...you really get 'starved' if you don't get touched enough?"

"Erm, by 'touched' I mean hugged, high-fived, hand-holding, head pats, stuff like that. Not something that sounds like the start of a dirty joke..."

Few days later~~~

"Max! Get in here! Now!

"What?! Did someone get hurt?! Did Qiqi eat glue again???"

"Look."

Max finally came around the corner and saw the other human trapped in the most adorable way ever imaginable. Younglings hugged and clung to Kim like they were a lifesaver in a terrible storm. Legs were trapped and sat on, weighted to the ground by children. Waist and torso were covered by living backpacks/frontpacks. Arms shaking while trying to hold the younglings in their arms while steadying the ones clambering on their shoulders.

"Help. Me."

"Let me get my phone I need this as my new wallpaper."

"Max! I'm seriously about to crush like 10 kids with my fat arse if I don't stand properly in the next 10 seconds."

"Got it, can't have you manslaughter children. Hug time's over kids, off of Kim."

"But Maxie if we do then Kim will die!"

"Marl for the 5th time I'm not dying."

"But your starving!"

"Sweetheart please, I am most defiantly not starving."

"Emira said so tho!"

"Yeah! You were stuck in your room for days with no one to hug you! And Max told me that if humans don't get enough hugs or pats you'll starve!!" her beak quivered, eyes starting to get glassy.

"Oooh, Emira, kids, Kim is fine. Yes no one was there to give Kim hugs but she's fine. For a human to starve for hugs will take some time, and Kim wasn't gone for that long."

"Really?"

"Really, besides I was there to give her soup and high-fives so she wouldn't get lonely."

"...can we still hug you for a bit longer?"

"Of course, but let me sit down so I don't fall down."

The younglings clamber of her and allow the human to sit and then climb back ontop her. Noting how not everyone got to hug Kim, Max came in and together the humans were trapped by a mesh of children clinging tightly to their favorite humans.

"Max."

"Yeah Kim."

"As punishment for what happened your buying lunch...and carrying me to lunch cause my legs are in a coma right now."

"Fair enough."

#humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans in space #the adventures of kim and max running a space child centre

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tealeavesandtrash · 6 months

Text

Wolfstar Micro Fic - @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: Dogwalker - 421 words

[unknown number] Hi. Sorry to bother you, Pete gave me your number. I’m looking for a dog walker, he said you might know someone? Thanks, Remus

hi remus i’ll ask around, what are the dates? sirius

This Thursday? Hopefully for 2 weeks but I’m having an op so might change I know it’s short notice but everything fell through and I'm running out ideas

sorry, just talking to pete i’ll do it

You will?

yeah i work round the corner, i can take him out at lunch

Thank you so much you're a lifesaver

no probs

————

Thanks for today I think Padfoot likes you

good bc I like him too also no offence, when pete said knee replacement i was expecting a grandpa

None taken And no offence, when Pete said dog groomer, I wasn’t expecting so much leather and tattoos

no offence taken ;)

————

[attached photo] stick maybe coming home with us

————

[attached photo] You've knackered him out

————

I have phsyio this morning Key is in flowerpot if I'm not back

no worries

————

how was it?

An hour of them teaching me how to bend my knee Like I haven’t been doing that my whole life??

well… you werent doing a great job of it if they had to replace it

Hilarious.

————

[attached photo] He’s waiting for you He knows your late

sorry padfoot :(( tell him ill be 5 mins x

————

okay so slight incident

What happened??

[attached photo] big fan of muddy puddles

Oh jesus

ill take him back to work and clean him up

You really don't have to I can bath him

no offence ive seen you hobbling about you cant wrangle him into a bath and kneel down to wash him

I can handle it You’ve done enough already

its fine i had a cancellation won’t be a full pamper but youll have a squeaky clean pup back at 2

————

I dont think Padfoot's ever smelt so good

thats the blueberry pawfume

The what

pawfume dog perfume blueberry scented

didn't know that was a thing

next opening i have hes getting the spa treatment

————

PT's cleared me for low-impact exercise Aka get off my arse and start walking more

Oh congrats! I mean I’ll miss padfoot But glad ur healing good :)

Well You can still come with? Padfoot really likes you And I like talking to you

I like talking to you too

Or I coud take you out to dinner? As a thank you for everything I couldn't have coped without you

It’s a date x

#the absolute rage when i copied this over from my docs a relaised tumblr doesnt do right aligment and i had to reformat the whole thing????#but also i can get away with not as much proofing bc any typos are intentional style choices sksksklksk #remus lupin #marauders #sirius black #wolfstar #complete #oneshot #micro fiction #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #maddy writes #texting fic #dog walker au #modern au #remus x sirius #wolfstar microfic

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mariclerc · 5 months

Text

Dad duties (pt.3) | cl16

Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: just fluff

a/n: yayy another part of the "dad duties" series, i hope you like this as much as I do <3

Check out the series!! Part 1 Part 2

Charles' apartment living room is such a mess... But in your opinion it is a cute and pleasant mess, some toys and crayons scattered on the floor. He tries to reason with Ava, who holds a crayon aloft, poised to attack the pristine white wall.

“Ava no! Not the wall petit escargot, we have paper for drawing, remember?” He tells her softly, but Ava giggles and swats him with the crayon. (little snail)

You enter the house with the spare key that he gave you, since you go to his house very often and it is no longer necessary for him to open the door for you all the time, since he already sees you as part of the family.

“Hi lovelies!” You say with a smile, and then look at the walls. “Looks like someone's having a creative outburst!” you giggle softly.

Ava, upon seeing you, drops the crayon and starts crawling towards you with a delighted squeal. You scoop her up, burying your face in her soft hair.

“Hey there, little one! Did you missed me?” You spoke to her softly and she babbled.

Charles sighs and smiles. “Thank goodness you're here darling! I think I was about to lose this battle.”

You grin. “Looks like you were outnumbered. Don't worry, I'm a pro at dealing with little Picassos.” you wink at him and he blushes a little bit.

Charles throws you a grateful look as you settle Ava on the couch and start picking up toys.

“You're a lifesaver amour, I was just about to give up and let her have her way with the walls.” he laughs a little. (love)

“Maybe next time we can invest in some washable markers, don't you think love?” you chuckled.

You grab a wet cloth and start cleaning the crayon marks off the wall. Ava watches you with wide, curious eyes.

“See little miss? We can be creative without making a mess!” you say smiling and Ava reaches out and pats your cheek with her tiny hand. “Aww, you're such a sweetheart, darling.”

Charles smiles. “She seems to like you... Maybe a little too much.” he giggles.

“Maybe she just recognizes good taste.” you say teasingly.

Ava starts babbling again, and you turn to her, listening intently.

“What is it, Ava? Are you hungry?” you asks her and she nods enthusiastically. ”Alright, then. Let's get you some lunch, honeybee!”

You head to the kitchen with Ava in your arms, to prepare her porridge. You sit her in her high chair and start feeding her.

“Here comes the airplane, bringing yummy food... Open wide!” you say giggling softly.

Ava opens her mouth and gobbles up the porridge happily and content. She has been babbling here and there lately, weeks ago she called Charles "Dada" for the first time and little by little she has said several little words.

You watch Charles leaning against the doorway. “She seems so happy... You're a natural with her.”

You smile at him and blushes slightly. “She's a pretty easy baby to love.”

Ava suddenly stops eating and stares at you with wide eyes. “Mama!” she smiles and babbles softly at you.

Your heart skips a beat... You look at Charles, your eyes widening in surprise, he just smiles at the both of you.

“Did she just...?” you say whispering.

“I think she did bébé.” He said grinning. (baby)

Ava reaches out her arms towards you, babbling happily.

“Oh, Ava...” you say holding back tears, you scoop her up and hug her tightly, a wave of warmth and protection washing over you.

“Look like I have some competition for the title of "Ava's favorite person".” Charles chuckles and smiles. “But I think there's enough love to go around for both of us.”

He walks over and places a kiss on your forehead, you lean into him, your heart overflowing with a mix of joy and surprise. You smile, a feeling of contentment settling over you... And maybe, just maybe, this little family is exactly what you never knew you needed.

“I... I can't believe she just called me mama.” you say smiling through tears.

“Me neither. But hey, maybe that's a good sign, right?” He reaches out and takes your hand, his eyes filled with warmth. “Maybe this is all meant to be.”

You look at him, a million unspoken questions swirling in your mind. ”What are you thinking?” you whisper.

“I'm thinking that maybe... just maybe, you could stay.” he whispers while squeezing your hand.

He smiles at you, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Stay?” you ask whispering.

“Yeah... You know, permanently... You seem to have a natural way with Ava, and... well, I wouldn't mind having you around more often...” he made a pause and smiles. “Besides... You already spent the night here once, so, it shouldn't be strange for us.” He blushes slightly, looking a little sheepish.

You smile. “You wouldn't mind having me around?”

“No, not at all! In fact, I'd like it very much.” he chuckles.

He looks at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for your answer.

“Well, in that case... I think I'd like that too.” you smile back at him.

A slow smile spreads across Charles' face. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his heart filled with joy.

“So, does this mean we're officially a family now?” you smiled and whispered at him.

“Looks like it chérie.” he whispered back and smile. (darling)

You glance down at Ava, and she starts fussing, her eyelids drooping.

“Looks like our little matchmaker needs her nap.” you smile.

Charles chuckles and reaches out to take Ava from you. He bounces her gently, humming a lullaby he probably knows from countless nights of soothing her. He mutters a little "I'll be right back" and you nod while he goes to put her in her crib, you sigh contentedly while smiling, who would have thought that this single dad and his little angel would captivate your heart? Honestly, you were grateful for it. Charles returns sighing and slightly closes the door to Ava's room, he turns towards to you and smile like a little kid.

“You know, you're a natural with her. I don't think I've ever seen her this calm.” he whispers.

“As I said, she's so easy to love... Like her dad.” you blushed.

He leans in again and kisses you softly, the weight of the situation slowly sinking in. “This is... wow. I never thought things would move this fast... But to be honest, I couldn't expect less, this is perfect amour.”

You take a deep breath. “Me neither, but it feels so good... It's like everything is in its place.” you whisper a little.

Charles looks at you with a mixture of wonder and excitement. “So... What does all this mean?”

You smile. “It means I might need to find a new toothbrush.”

He laughs, the tension easing. ”And maybe some pajamas? Although you can always wear the shirt from last time and you know it, petit coeur.” (little heart)

“And maybe a permanent parking spot for my car?” you say teasingly and he laughs

“Deal! We can even figure out a spot for your favorite plushie collection.”

He winks at you, the playful banter a welcome relief after the emotional rollercoaster of the past few minutes.

“Now you're talking my language, handsome dad.” you giggle at him.

***

You two walk into his room, well your now shared room with him, and even though you still have to look for your things at your apartment, everything feels so special and comfy. The routine is basically the same as the last time you slept with him at his place... You change into one of his comfortable t-shirts, he smiles when he sees you in it.

You two get under the blanket and snuggle against each other, it's like it's already a natural routine for you both, like something you've done a thousand times. He plays with a strand of your hair while your head lies on his chest.

He clears his throat. “You know? I haven't told anyone this, but... This last year has been difficult.” he whispers, you let out a "hm" as a sign for him to continue. “I didn't know what to do, when her biological mother decided, after she gave birth to her, that she didn't want to be part of our lives I felt very frustrated, you know? As if I had done something wrong.”

You caress his chest gently. “You haven't done anything wrong Charlie.”

“I know sweetheart, but at that moment I couldn't help but feel that way... At first I didn't know what to do or how to do with Ava, she was just a little baby who needed my endless protection.” he sighs. “I asked my mom for help for a very long time, I felt like I wasn't doing a good job like her dad... But then I saw that first little gummy smile of hers and that's when I realized that it was all worth it, the sacrifice, the sleepless nights, everything for her... If only I had met you sooner, the story would have been totally different.” he smiles, his eyes glossy with some tears.

You caress his rosy cheeks. “But here I am my love! And I think I came to you at the right time.” You say softly and place a kiss on the tip of his nose, he smiles shyly.

“And you don't know how much I thank you for staying with us and not running away.” Now he is the one who gives you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Always love, I will always be there for you, in the ups and downs.” you say softly. “You are now my family honeybunch and I love you both... A lot!” he giggles at the cute nickname.

Looking back a little, you never imagined that you would end up being the mother of the little girl you tripped over on the beach a few months ago with her cute dad, but here you are! In your now new home with the two of them, the loves of your life, they are both the ones you needed in your life and they, in a way, also needed you.

“I love you charlie... Thank you for opening the doors of your and Ava's life to me.” you whispered against him.

He smiled softly. “Thank you for appearing in our lives baby, I don't know how to thank you, I just...” he kisses your forehead. “I just love you too so so much, darling.”

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, leclerc_pascale, lewishamilton and others.

tagged ynusername

charles_leclerc life lately 🤍🤍🤍

see 5.623.517 comments

chaleclercs omg Ava is getting bigger and bigger each day 🥺🥺🥺

user1 sir, we see a girl over there 👀👀👀

lilymhe little ava 🥺💗

f1gossip we see a girl there sir, care to elaborate?

chalelec yeah, although you can't see her that much, she is there, I'm curious to know who she is 🫣🫣

charlosfann could he be looking for a surrogate mother for ava? I mean, after his ex didn't want to raise ava with him

f1gossip okay but I already did my search 🫣 apparently the girl's name is yn, she is a year younger than Charles, she is 25 and that is what is known about her so far

chaleclercs okay but how creepy do you have to be to find out who the girl is with just a photo?!? I don't see that it's fair, if he is happy with her and it gives stability to both him and Ava, we should be happy for him

leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️

liked by creator and ynusername

ynusername i love you both so so much, my cute darlings 🤍

charles_leclerc we love you too sweetheart 💗 you have no idea how much we do 🥰

ynusername babe, don't make me cry 😭😭 you're the sweetest guy in the world 🤍🤍

ynusername

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc and others.

tagged charles_leclerc

ynusername livin the sweet life with my loves 💌🐇🤍

see 4.685 comments

yourbff omg omg bestie 🥺🥺 she's the cutest little thing 🤍😭

ynusername i know 🥺😭 she melts my heart every single day!! i love her 🤍

chaleclercs awe 🥹🥹 welcome to the fam yn!!

liked by creator

lorenzotl 🤍🤍

f1 welcome to the paddock yn! ❤️❤️

leclerc_pascale je vous adore mes amours 🤍🤍 (I adore you my loves)

ynusername aww, je t'aime aussi maman 🤍 (I adore you too mom)

charles_leclerc nous t'aimons tellement maman 🤍 (we love you so much mom)

scuderiaferrari welcome to the team yn!! ❤️❤️❤️

liked by creator and charles_leclerc

lilymhe omg the matching pj's!! 🥺🥺 so cute

ynusername thank youuuu cutie 🥹 i know, they're so cuteee 😭💗💗💗

charles_leclerc i love you so much mon ange 🤍 you make us so happy every day and you have no idea how much we appreciate you in our lives 💗💗

ynusername charlie bear 😭😭😭 you're making me cry so much 🤍🤍 I adore you both, thank you for letting me in 🥺🥺

charles_leclerc It was nothing my love, thanks to you for being Ava's lifeguard that day on the beach ❤️🥰 without you we wouldn't be here my darling 🤍

ynusername i love you bby boy 🥰🥰

user1 omg, is this the girl Charles' talked about in the latest F1 challenge vid?

f1gossip what do you mean? 👀

chaleclercs a couple of weeks ago there was a challenge on the f1 channel and Charles was asked about a moment that changed his life, and he talked about the time a girl saved a curious crawler Ava on the beach 🥺🥺 Now I think he was talking about yn in that vid 🥹🥹🥰

user1 i love them, they seem like the cutest couple and parents ever 🥺❤️

liked by creator and charles_leclerc

ynusername user1 yup, we definitely are!! ❤️❤️

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #charles x you #charles x mom #charles leclerc!dad #charles single dad #charles leclerc x you #my works #mariclerc fics

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alotofpockets · 1 year

Text

The regular | Part 1 | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: Your cafe gains a new regular after Alessia's move to Arsenal.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 2.1k

Part 1 | Part 2

Over the past few months you gained a new regular at your cafe. You loved seeing familiar faces and having small conversations with these people that showed your business love over and over again. You had recognized this new customer instantly as you are an avid watcher of women’s soccer, it was none other than Alessia Russo. When she first came into your shop, you greeted her with a smile, “Goodmorning, what can I get for you today?” You greeted her like you greeted every customer, understanding that besides being a famous soccer player, she was also just a person looking for a morning coffee. She ordered and took a seat in one of the corner booths.

She had come in almost every morning for the next few weeks. You were slightly suspicious of what the Manchester United player was doing here in North London, but again you were not wanting to impose and let her live her life outside of fame. So, when you came across the announcement that Alessia had transferred to Arsenal, the pieces clicked. Though, of course you continued treating her like a regular customer, letting her enjoy her personal space.

You opened up the cafe for the day and got to work on setting out the freshly baked pastries. You had opened the door for some fresh air, while you cleaned off the tables you didn’t get to last night. At the sound of footsteps, you turn around, you were met with the smile of none other than the newest member of Arsenal herself. “Hi, good morning.” You greet her with a smile of your own. “Hi, sorry I know you’re not officially open yet but I was wondering if maybe I could get a coffee to go?” The girl had such an hopeful look in her eyes that you could hardly resist, not that you would have resisted in the first place. “Yeah, no worries, of course you can.” You knew Arsenal was playing Manchester United today at Leigh Sports Village, the home stadium of her old club, and the players' bus likely had to leave within 30 minutes.

She gives you her order and you start working on it. “Thank you so much,” She starts as you hand her the cup. “you’re a lifesaver. Your coffee is the only thing that keeps me going in the morning.” You laugh with her. “Any time, I hope you have a great morning!” As she pays for her drink she tells you to keep the change for getting her a coffee before opening, you try to refuse but she insists. “Thanks again. I hope you have a great day as well.” And with that she’s out the door again.

That night you watch the match from home, you’re incredibly shocked at how rude the Manchester United fans are towards Alessia, every time she touched the ball the crowd chanted all kinds of boo’s her way. You felt for the girl, this was no way to treat a person. When you heard the Arsenal fans chant ‘Lessi Russo we’ve got - Lessi Russo we’ve got’ you were proud of your team's efforts to make Alessia feel welcome, and hoped that she was able to focus on the positivity instead of the negativity.

It was a busy Saturday morning at the cafe, still each time you heard the little bell at the door ring, you looked up to see if it was Alessia but it hadn’t been her all morning. You went around the shop seeing if anyone wanted refills on their coffee as your coworker Mandy helped the people in line with their orders. It was only after the lunch rush that Alessia walked through the door. The usual smile plastered on her face was replaced with a tired looking frown, your heart sank. When you notice her slumping down into a seat without ordering, you decide to go ahead and make her regular order for her. You set the cup down in front of her. “On the house.” You tell her when she looks at you in question.

When a group of middle aged men wearing Manchester United jerseys walked in your eyes quickly shot to Alessia, she had her backs to them so she didn’t realize. You hoped these fans weren’t like the rude ones you saw on TV last night as you took their order. The group walked past Alessia’s table and sat down a couple tables over. They immediately started whispering to each other and pointing Alessia’s way. Alessia noticed the group and looked up, the men started laughing loudly when she made eye contact with them. You saw Alessia look back down at her coffee with a sad expression on her face. “Hey, Mandy, can you take over for a bit?” Mandy agreed instantly and you walked straight to Alessia’s table.

You stand with your back to the men, and send Alessia an apologetic look. “Hi miss, that private table in the back is ready for you. If you follow me, I’ll lead you to it.” Alessia nods, grabs her bag and follows your direction. You hold open the door to the back and lead her to your office. “I am so sorry for them, Alessia. Please take all the time you need here. I can kick the group out if you want.” Alessia shakes her head, “It’s okay, they didn’t do anything yet. Wait, you knew something happened without them doing something and you know my name.” A slight blush reached your cheeks, there was no more hiding the fact that you didn’t know who she was. “I, eh- yes, I didn’t say anything, but yes. I’m y/n, to keep the name part even.” Alessia takes a seat on the couch in your office, “You knew this whole time and didn’t say anything?” You shrug, “Yeah, I’m sorry, I figured you got recognized enough and deserved regular interactions too.” Alessia smiled for the first time since she walked in. “No, no, don’t apologize. It is refreshing, just being able to order my coffee and stuff, it’s one of the reasons I enjoy your shop so much.”

“You saw the game yesterday then?” Alessia questions, once again looking down. “Yes, I did. Those Manchester United fans were absolutely horrible and I am so sorry that they treated you so badly during the game. I think you played really well, Alessia, you didn’t deserve that, no person does.” After a deep sigh, Alessia says, “Yeah, they were.” You sit with her, “For what it’s worth, I’m very happy that you joined Arsenal.” Alessia’s smile grows again, “You’re a Gooner?” In response you just say, “Lessi Russo we’ve got.” and you both start laughing. Alessia looks around, now that she’s calmed down a bit she realizes where she is, “The owner won’t mind that I am in here?” You decide to joke with her as your first answer. “Yeah, I don’t think she will mind.” She searches your face, “Are you sure?” The corners of your mouth perk up, “Oh, very sure.” You can’t hold your laughter in anymore. “I feel like I am missing something.” Alessia says with a confused look on her face. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Alessia, I am the owner, and I do not mind that you're here.” She rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm. You talk for a bit longer before Alessia says that she has an appointment to get to. “Can I get you a coffee to go real quick?” She nods, “Yeah, I’d love that.”

You head to the front to make her coffee to go and see that the men are still there. “Here you go. They’re still here, we have a back exit if you want to ignore their presence entirely?” Alessia thanks you and follows you to the back exit. “You should come to one of our upcoming games, if you’d like.” You smile at her, “Yeah, that sounds fun.” She points to your apron, “Can I borrow your notepad for a second?” You hand it to her and watch her write something down. “Here’s my number, text me and I’ll get you into whatever game you’d like.” And with that she’s out of the door. You look down to the number with a smile on your face. When you hear Mandy call out for your help you quickly drop the note on your desk and head back to the front. “Thank you for covering, Mandy, I appreciate it.” After work that day you texted Alessia, and made plans to come see them play against Aston Villa.

The next day was slow, one Sunday it was super busy, and the other it was quite the opposite. However, soon after that thought the quiet got interrupted by the bell ringing, within seconds the room filled with chatter, you looked up and saw Alessia welcome in a group of her fellow Arsenal players. She sends you a quick wave and follows her teammates, Katie, Beth, Viv, and Leah to a booth. It was just you today, so you headed their way to take their orders. “Hi ladies, what can I get for you?” Beth is the first to talk. “Hi, Alessia over here has told us all about you, and we wanted to come see for ourselves.” After a warning nudge by Viv, she adds, “Your cafe, of course. She said the coffee was amazing here.” You smile and take their orders. “All right, coming right up.” You say not noticing the warning glances Alessia sent the other girls.

You make each of their drinks and bring them to the booth. Katie gets your attention before you turn back to the counter. “I heard you were going to come see us play next week.” You smile at the group, “Oh yeah, I am. Alessia is going to get me a ticket. I’m very excited to see you all play live.” You engage in some more small talk with the girl before letting them enjoy their coffee. As soon as you turn your back on the group, the table starts pushing Alessia to go talk to you.

Alessia walks up to the counter, you smile at her when she greets you. “Hey, did I forget something?” You ask in return. “Oh no, I just wanted to see how you were doing today.” You were happy to see that she was back to her smiley self. “I’m doing good, it’s been slow today, so I was happy to see you walk in. How about you, how are you?” Alessia leans on the counter, standing in a more comfortable position. “I’m doing well, we just got back from practice and when the girls said they wanted to get some coffee together, I told them this was the perfect place.” “Well, thank you for the compliment, I really appreciate it.” Alessia turns around and walks back to the table but you see her teammates pushing her back towards you, you smile at the scene in front of you, but quickly hide it when Alessia comes back your way. “Actually, I did have a question.”

You noticed the woman in front of you getting nervous. “Okay, ask away.” Alessia plays with the rings on her fingers. “I was wondering if you had any plans for tonight.” You smile at her, butterflies start filling your stomach. “That depends on your next question.” You joke. She stops fidgeting with her rings and looks up to read the expression on your face, when she sees you’re smirking she knows that she can continue. “Would you like to get dinner tonight? With just me, not the whole team, though we could do that too if you’d like that more.” She starts rambling. “Yes, I would love to. It’s a date, just you and me.” You discuss some details before Alessia heads back to the table. You hear them cheering her on and smile to yourself.

Not long after more people enter the shop. You help everyone with their orders with a smile that won’t falter. Alessia joins in the small line of customers. “Hi.” You greet her. “Hey.” She says back, you both smile at each other and hold eye contact for a moment before Alessia continues. “Can I pay for the whole table?” You put in the amount for the table and she pays, again with a tip. “I’ll see you tonight.” She says before joining the rest of the girls, you wave at them when they walk out. The rest of the day flies by as you are looking forward to your date with Alessia.

Continue reading part 2

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#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x y/n #arsenal women #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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sturniolosreads · 8 months

Note

Dating Matt but Nick and Chris make you stay over at their house because when Matt’s at your place they don’t anyone to drive them places

UBER

Matt Sturniolo x Fem!reader

Today was Sunday, I had just gotten back from a long travel day and was driving to my boyfriend, Matts house. Matt was my lifesaver, we met when we were 14; he saw me sitting on the floor near the girls restroom when he had come out of class to go to the toilet.

I was sat crying, going into a panic attack because I couldn't do the work that my maths teacher gave me, he rushed up to me, held me and comforted me despite having no idea who was.

After he calmed me down, he helped me figure out the work and told me that he often experienced anxiety too. When lunch came around, he introduced me to his triplet brothers, Nick, and Chris. From that day on, all four of us were inseparable.

In junior year, we had both developed a crush on each other; he put flowers in my locker with a note asking me out on Valentine's day, and who was I to say no? So, we began to go on dates, and on the 3rd date he asked me if he could be my boyfriend.

Three years later, we were in a healthy and happy relationship. We had organised a movie night with me, Matt, Nick, Chris, and Nate so that Nick and Chris werent 3rd and 4th wheeling. I got out of my car after finally arriving to the triplets' house and grabbed my keys out of my pocket.

Matt had given me a key to their house when they moved to L.A a year ago so that i could let myself in, sometimes i would have trouble sleeping at night so i would drive over to the triplets house, Matt knew I did it to help me sleep at night so it never bothered him when he would wake up to me cuddled up at the side of him.

lunlocked the door and stepped into the house, Matt must have heard me pulling up because as soon as stepped foot in the doorway, he nearly knocked me over with a bone crushing hug.

" missed you baby, how was Boston?" he asked, his speech slightly muffled due to his head being nuzzled into my neck. I laughed, kissing his cheek

"it was good, I missed you too. How have things been while I was away?”

He groaned, pulling away from me *hell, imagine having to babysit two 20-year-old toddlers." Nick walked up from behind him *just because you have to have everything clean all the time Mr.

Perfect" he rolled his eyes pulling me in for a hug

"it's good to have you back y/n, this moron hasn't stopped whining since we dropped you off at the airport." | laughed again at the brothers' antics.

"you guys need to come next time, I bumped into Marylou at the store, she said that the next time I go to Boston I need to drag you by the hair to come with me." I told them, they smiled.

"Were planning to go next month, you'll be coming with us of course" Matt spoke. "Hurry up guys I wanna start the movie!" Chris whined from upstairs. I rolled my eyes playfully at his dramatics, walking up the stairs with Matt and Nick following my lead.

Chris got up and ran to me as I came up the stairs. He jumped up and wrapped his legs around me like a monkey (like he did to nick in the vlog ages ago) as I let out a strained groan. Matt laughed and pried Chris off me. I giggled a bit and hugged Chris normally, despite there only being a few months of an age difference between me and the triplets, Chris was like a little brother to me.

He could be the biggest nuisance, but that was what made him so loveable. Matt never had a problem with us being close because he knew that we never thought about each other that way, and he knew that me and Chris were strictly platonic. " missed you sis he said, a toothy grin on his face as he pulled away from the hug. « missed you too kid, what are we watching?" | asked him, and he suddenly got more excited "we bought the new ninja turtles movie"

TIME SKIP

We spent around 2 hours on the couch together, watching the movie and eating our weight in Wingstop. Nate left around half way through, saying that he didn't want to wake up his mom by coming home too late. Once the movie was over, I

#I'm gonna head home guys, I'm exhausted from travelling" I said to them. Matt stood up after me

*I'lI take you home, I'll probably just end up staying at yours anyway. Chris immediately protested.

“No matt, I have to go to a meeting tomorrow morning, and I need you to drive me" he whined.

"I'm not an uber Chris, either walk or order one." he whined again "y/n, please stay over. I hate taking Ubers, they are too expensive" nick then decided to join the conversation. "I also need to go to target tomorrow” he spoke in a tone that said ‘you better drive me.’

laughed at their desperateness "why don't you guys just hurry up and get your licence? But fine, I'll stay over if matt is okay with it" I turned to look at matt who was standing behind me, silently asking him if he was okay with me sleeping in his room for the night.

"of course, I'm sorry about them" he smiled apologetically at me "it's okay, your bed is comfier anyway" | smiled, running away into his room, and jumping on the bed.

I heard him speaking to Chris, asking him what time he needed to be at the meeting. a few minutes later, I smiled at him as he came through the door of his room, shutting it behind him. "I'm gonna go for a shower and then I'II come to bed" | told him.

He smiled and nodded as he opened his drawer to take out a pair of sweatpants to sleep in "okay, are you just gonna sleep in one of my shirts? I have your spare underwear in my drawer." | nodded at him "yeah, I'II be like 15 minutes, and I'II be done" he nodded.

I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I took a quick shower, before getting out and wrapping the towel around me and opening the door.

I walked over to the drawer that I kept all my spare things in for when I stayed here and grabbed a pair of underwear along with the t-shirt matt had left out for me. I slipped them on, before getting under the duvet and putting my phone on charge.

Matt smiled at me, pulling me in to him as he put his phone down. "Goodnight baby" he spoke, kissing my forehead "Goodnight love" I buried my face into his chest, falling asleep in minutes.

A/n: sorry this is so short, but first one shot done. I'm so scared to publish this 😭

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

Text

Lifesaver: Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

The night Johnny gets arrested outside the strip mall, it’s you he calls to bail him out. You’re a last resort, one rung above his stepfather. He looks rougher than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are unshaven, his hair just a little too long. His eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot, the scent of whiskey clinging to his skin.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He says, his lips brushing over your cheek before he lets himself out of your car.

You sigh because despite the fact it’s been over a year since you last saw each other, you’re still the person he comes to when he’s in need of a rescue.

He doesn’t invite you inside the apartment but he leaves the door open, you can’t help but follow inside. You think he does it on purpose, that he wants you to see you’re better off without him. His place is a mess, vacant pizza boxes and empty beer cans, a half drunk bottle of vodka stored along side the couch. The TV is smashed, the shards embedding into the threadbare carpet underneath.

He doesn’t look at you, he simply steps into bathroom closing the door behind him. You hear the shower click on, the sound of running water before you go routing through his kitchen drawers, searching for garbage bags. You know what it looks like when Johnny’s suffering, you suspect this is why he ghosted you last year. He must have hit a rough patch with his mental health, fallen into a spiral. He’s a proud man, he wouldn’t have wanted you to see it.

You’re halfway through cleaning up the living room by the time he steps out of the bathroom, a towel slung low over his hips. It’s clear he doesn’t expect you to still be there, that you’d take one look at his place and walk back out again.

“You don’t need to do that.” He tells you, snatching the bag out of your hand.

You give him a hard look and he gives you one back.

“I didn’t invite you to come in here and bust my balls.” He snaps as he clutches onto his towel. “In fact I didn’t invite you in at all.”

“Johnny…” You say and he holds up his hand to dismiss you before retreating to the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

You know where his aggression comes from, it’s a place of shame, of hurt. It devastates you to see him like this, so angry, so bitter. The Johnny you knew was warm, self-depreciating. He had a smile that could light up a room, that made your heart beat a little faster in your chest.

When you let yourself into the bedroom it’s a similar state. There’s dirty laundry piled up in the corner, empties on the nightstand, it looks like it hasn’t been touched by sunlight in months.

Johnny’s curled up under the sheets, he’s pulled on a t-shirt and boxer shorts. You toe off your shoes at the bottom of the bed before you climb onto the mattress alongside side of him. Your arm loops around his waist, your chest pressing light against his back. You feel the tension ebb out of him as your lips brush over the curve of his throat lightly. His fingers capture yours, entwining them as he tucks your hand against his chest, so you can feel his heart beat against your fingertips.

“Johnny.” You whisper and he grips your hand a little tighter waiting for rebuke because that’s the way it’s always been for Johnny. He’s chastised his actions, beaten down, battered. It’s the reason he’s so abrasive, it’s way of protecting him from the pain that comes with caring for another person, from disappointing them.

“I’m gonna stay a while, help you get back on your feet.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” He chides and you can sense the tiredness in his voice. You can’t imagine how exhausting it must be, fighting every single day just to live.

“I know.” You whisper as you hold him close. “But you do need a friend.”

Love Johnny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #cobra kai

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year

Note

I FOUND IT, I FOUND THE IDEA I NEEDED FOR A REQUEST.

Oke Listen...

Ready?!

Bucky and Reader take care of a baby and Bucky holds the little toddler in his arms and takes care of that sweet little one. And the toddler is absolutely in love with Bucky and his metal arm like Reader is.

Please with sooo much fluff as much as you can?🥺🥺

Babysitting duty

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1K

SUMMARY | Andy has asked you to babysit for him while he is away on trial, and you couldn't be more excited about it. You didn't tell Bucky since it was such last minute, but he absolutely adores the little girl you're babysitting, and couldn't be happier to see how good you are with kids.

WARNING(S) | None.

A/N | Thank you so so much for this sweet request, I've tried to shove as much tooth rottingly sweet fluff in here as I possibly could! I hope it is everything you've thought of and more, and I can't wait to see what other ideas you come up with in the future! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You're getting ready to go grocery shopping for Bucky's return from his mission when your phone suddenly rings. You look at it and see it's Andy Barber, your good friend, so you pick it up.

''Hi Andy, is everything okay?'' you ask, wondering why he would call you in the middle of the day.

''Hi Y/N, yeah, no, uhm… I know this is a little… last minute, but could you watch Ivy for a few days? I must go to trial with my client and can't take her. I'll pay you double what I would usually pay you as compensation,'' he tells you, and you just smile.

''It's okay, Andy, you don't have to pay me double. I'd absolutely love to watch Ivy. When do you need me to pick her up?'' you ask.

''You're a true lifesaver right now; I was honestly running out of options here,'' he sighs. ''If you could pick her up tonight, you would be a huge help,''.

''Alright, I'll see you around 6 PM, okay? That way, she can sleep at my house, and we don't have to wake her for transport,''.

With that, you change your grocery shopping plans; instead of buying food for 2 people, you're getting it for 3, so little Ivy can eat too. The shopping trip is going smoothly; before you know it, you're back home.

You already went to the attic to get the foldable bed you use every time you babysit and set it up in your and Bucky's bedroom.

Next are some toys you like to keep around, even though Andy always lets Ivy bring some.

When all that is done, the apartment is getting clean and tidy; when that's done, it's time to pick up the little girl.

When you arrive at Andy's house, he quickly opens the door with his daughter on his hip, tightly holding her favorite stuffed animal in anticipation of who's ringing their doorbell.

''Y/N, please come in! You're an absolute lifesaver right now,'' Andy says as he lets you into the house.

''It's not a problem at all; you know how much Bucky and I love this little Munchkin right here,'' you say as you pinch her cheeks softly.

She reaches her arms out for you, and you take her from Andy's arms, so he can get all her things ready.

''Are you ready to come to sleep with me and Uncle Bucky for a few days? You say, "We have missed you so much!'' she nods.

''Sweep with you,'' she repeats.

''Yes, sleep with me! Good job!'' you praise her as you walk over to Andy, who is just grabbing some clothes for her.

''How long do you think you'll be gone for?'' you ask, eyeing the pile of clothes he's packing. ''You know we have a washing machine, right? You don't need to pack up her entire wardrobe,'' you chuckle.

''I'm sorry, it's just… It's so last minute, and I feel bad that I had to ask you like that,'' he says, but you reassure him it's okay.

''We don't mind, Andy, not even in the slightest.''

When everything is packed up, and Andy has said his goodbyes to Ivy, you head to your house. She is already sleeping in the car, so you transfer her to the bed when you arrive.

You turned on the baby monitor and grabbed a glass of wine in the kitchen, sitting down with your drink and a book, enjoying your evening.

''Are you excited to pick up Uncle Bucky today?'' you ask her after you dress her in one of the outfits Andy packed.

''Unnel Buck!'' she says, not quite getting the hang of the word ''Uncle'' yet, but it is absolutely adorable.

You arrive at the Compound a little earlier than expected, and the Avengers aren't back yet, so you decide to wait in Bucky's room - which he barely uses since the two of you moved into your apartment together - with Ivy.

When FRIDAY showed that the Quinjet was about to land, you approached the hangar, ready to greet Bucky and all the other Avengers.

Ivy had spotted him before you did and was wildly waving her arms to be held by him.

''Hi, little troublemaker! It's nice to see you again!'' Bucky said after he picked up his pace a little and jogged over to where the two of you were standing.

''Andy had to go to trial for a few days, so I agreed to watch her for him while he's gone,'' you explain, and Bucky takes her out of your arms.

''Unnel Buck!'' she coos as she pets his long hair, earning her a big smile from the super soldier.

''Hi, little Ivy, I missed you! Are you ready to come home with me and Auntie Y/N?'' he asks, and she coos a yes at him.

When the three of you arrive at the car, Bucky puts her in the car seat before moving to the passenger seat, dropping into it with all his weight.

''Arm, arm, arm!'' she says as the three of you are back at your apartment, and you both know she's entirely in awe by Bucky's arm.

''Arm…'' she says softly as Bucky holds out his Vibranium hand for her to hold and to look over before her gaze moves over to the rest of his arm.

''I still think it's the cutest thing ever, how much she loves your arm! She has good taste,'' you say with a wink, making Bucky blush slightly.

''Alright, I believe it is time for a nap, troublemaker,'' he says before scooping her up with the metal arm and bringing her to bed.

He walks back into the kitchen when she's asleep and gives you a proper hello. He grabs your cheeks in his hands and brings your face to his, meeting in the middle for a deep, passionate kiss.

''I love you so much, doll. I can't wait to have a little one of our own one day,'' he says, pulling you closer and capturing your lips again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes request #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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igotanidea · 7 months

Text

Judgement: Benedict Bridgerton x actress!reader

Requested by @jaysgirlx <3

***

She wasn’t the most beautiful.

Or the most talented.

And definitely not born in the best family.

Nonetheless, neither of us, no matter how much willpower we are endowed with, has the possibility of choosing the environment we are born into. That is solely up to fate.

What we can choose, however, is how we adapt to the circumstances, how we behave, who we become and how we cope with the opinions that are – more often than not – negative and critical.

Especially when a woman, regardless of standards of an ossified, prejudiced society decides to make a living by being an actress. For Y/N Y/L/N no work was dishonorable. For the ladies of the ton, such profession was almost equal with being a lady of easy virtue. For the men – well- the behavior of some of them was below any norms of decency.

Funny how the point of view depends on the point of sitting.

***

She was late again.

For the third time this week and it was barely Wednesday. Not a good scorecard she kept and it definitely got under the skin of the theater owner. Y/N could not quite comprehend why the gentleman was so irritated since from the moment she stepped foot in that sanctuary of art she has been doing every single thing needed. Not only acting, but also cleaning the floor if required, repairing the costumes, helping with the dialogues. Very versatile all things considered.

Desperate for a job and survival? No, not entirely, maybe a little.

Enamored and passionate by the employ that gave her a bread and a questionable opinion. Yes, absolutely.

Rushing through the busy London streets, miraculously avoiding respectable matrons and their equally respectable lord consorts was not the best of the ideas of reducing, even to a small extent, the extent of her delay.

Y/N did not pay much attention while crossing the street either, obviously missing the speeding carriage and the moment she looked to the right, finding herself mere inches from the hooves of spooked horses, her entire life flashed in front of her eyes.

She let out a embarrassingly high cry of shock and freeze on the spot, mentally preparing herself of leaving the globe and letting her spirit fly away to some better world just like Julia Capulet did after her beloved Romeo—

“Watch out!” a man’s voice, a firm yet gentle grip of hand on her waist and a second later she was safely back on the pavement, sustaining no permanent injuries, save for rapid breathing and slightly flushed cheeks. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I am not a lady.” She retorted automatically shaking her head and slowly raising her gaze to give thanks to her lifesaver “Mr. Bridgerton!” the second son of the late viscount was definitely not the person she expected to see and it made her take a step back immediately.

Almost ending up under another carriage if it wasn’t for Benedict Bridgerton’s reflexes and a bright, teasing smile.

“You don't learn from your mistakes, my lady” he teased “am I this repulsive to make you step away upon noticing my face? Is this how women behave this day?”

“Forgive me my Lord, I was blinded by all your glory” she almost rolled her eyes, saying the words before biting her own tongue. “oh…” the gasps that came out of her mouth a moment later only caused Benedict to laugh wholeheartedly.

“Not the usual reaction I get from a woman.”

“I can tell, my lord. I am sure ladies do swoon at the sight of you. And now that Viscount Bridgerton had tied the marriage knot you sure are looking for a wife so –” she sopped in the middle of the sentence realizing she was babbling again.

“Oh so you are a woman after all. Gossiping.” Benedict smirked.

“I beg your pardon!”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he tilted his head examining her face trying to assess the possibility of them meeting before.

“No, my lord. I do not believe we have met.”

“May I have your name then, my lady?”

“Not a lady, my lord. And you should not preoccupy the place in your head with remembering my name.” she bowed, lacking skills a bit and – suddenly remembering that she was late – rushed to the theater.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Of course they have met before, but why would she remind him of the circumstances of the event happening so many weeks ago?

He was a student in the art academy, lately enhancing his skills in the portrait area, polishing the subject of anatomy. Both male and female, with the latter obviously much more involving in many hands-on way and that was not a secret. Those models were beautiful and fragile after all and being confronted with the harsh reality of XIX century London they had nothing more to offer than their bodies. Y/N almost ended up the same, but her talent for acting changed everything.

Regardless, her older brother was earning some additional funds by assisting the students, providing canvas, brushes, paints, wine, measures of various kinds. Whatever the domineering might wish for. And one day she was visiting him, entering the classroom without the knowledge that the lesson was still in progress.

And so she ended up in the middle of the room full of men with a naked model on the platform, under the barrage of astonished glances.

“Oh look, we got another one to help us study today!” one of the men cried out and the entire room started laughing. “You ought to wait for your turn, sweetheart. Do not fret though, we’ll take proper care of you.”

She blushed like a peony, her hands trembling a little.

“I was eagerly awaiting the moment when the Academy will provide us with a full shaped, average of beauty woman and here we are! My prayers have been answered, gentlemen!”

She blushed even more at the clear invective threw her way. Men could really behave like animals in their own company. Zero decency, respect for others or moderation. And the worst part was that all the ton knew about this open secret and gave their universal consent to that. Men were supposed to have their flings before marriage even if that meant a lot of improper things.

Her half-furious, half-hurt eyes scanned the room, taking in all the men gathered their and their attire, not paying much attention to either before landing on that one person who actually looked like having at least a little self-reflection.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Frozen with the brush in his hand and slightly unbuttoned shirt, torn between joining the common laugh on her expense and putting an end to this merciless, ongoing teasing. Before he could do a thing however she put an end to his misery and left the room with the solemn resolution to never interact with any of those debauched animals.

Judging Benedict as quickly and easily as all the society judged her.

***

“Quickly! We’re almost starting and you cannot seem to be on time even once!”

“I am—”

“do not interrupt me girl, put on the costume and get on the stage! I swear one of those days you will make me do the thing I will regret!”

***

That woman spurred some memories in Benedict’s mind even if couldn’t fully put all the pieces of the picture together. At least not until Eloise playfully smacked his side.

“What?”

“Do you know who you just saved?”

“That girl back there?” he massaged the sore place giving his sister a reproachful look “no idea. Should I know her?”

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Uh… okay?”

“She’s an actress!”

“Um…”

“She’s a self-made, independent woman not looking for marriage and free of societal expectations!”

“You better not let out mother find out that a woman with no title is your role model.”

“Oh I’d be more than happy to let her know that. I believe that the amount of injustice put on women-“

“I do realize the amount of your thoughts in the subject.”

“Since when are you judgmental?” Eloise scoffed

“I am not!”

“Fine then Come see her performance with me.”

***

Y/N was almost pushed on the stage, without having any time to gather her thoughts or to revise her role, forced to improvise by putting on a bright fake smile and subjecting the audience to a minute or two of suspension, before realizing what she was supposed to play that day.

Clearing her throat and fixing her costume she stepped into the light, joining the rest of the cast on the stage and started giving her lines.

Any other time she would be focused solely on the scene and words coming out her mouth making sure each of them were perfectly accentuated and spoke just the right way.

So what was this inexplicable instinct that made her scan the audience?

Spotting him.

With his eyes fixed on her, showing something that could not be mistaken for anything else but sheer admiration.

And she did not like it at all.

to be continued? ;)

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton fluff

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