#was on hold like three times before getting sent to voicemail

[lostwanderer42]

Trying to get my wrist figured out is exhausting

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[captainamericasshieldandhelmet]

Kaleidoscope | Spencer Agnew x Reader

Summary: You and Spencer dated for a few years in college, however, to live out your dream you move from LA to New York. You end up breaking up with him and are heartbroken. Fast forward to a few years later, you start working for Smosh and reunite with him again. Will you guys reconnect an old love?

A/n: Hi this is one of my first fanfics that I’ve written! There’s been a Spencer drought in fanfics on here so I decided to hop on and see if I can write something. It’s my first time writing for him so please let me know how I did and if you would like more! (If anyone even reads this 😭😭)

—————————————————————————————————————————

8 Years prior

“Spencer I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” Your voice was heard through the phone. You heard Spencer sigh. “What?” You felt tears coming down your face, not that Spencer could see.

You took a deep breath, “it’s just so hard-.” You stopped yourself trying to hold back a sob. “We barely have time to talk, we’re both so busy a-and it’s just been getting too much between us and work.” You stuttered out.

You could hear Spencer crying on the other line. “So we’re just done?” He asked, his voice full of anger.

A sigh left your lips not knowing what to do. “Spencer we’re in different states all the way across the country from one another. We don’t have time for each other anymore. I thought that this would work but-.” You stopped yourself, not knowing what else to say.

Spencer let out a shaky breath as he spoke up. “Fine if you don’t want to try anymore and give up on three years of us, then do it.”

You started to let out your cries as you tried speaking. “No Spencer it’s not that! I love you so much I-.” And then the line went dead.

All you heard was a beep, knowing that he had hung up the phone. You tried calling him back, the call going straight to voicemail. You tried a few times until a text popped up. “We’re done.” Was all the message that Spencer had sent. You finally let yourself break, the tears falling freely. You guys were done and nothing could change that, you had just hoped that you made the right decision.

Present time

You heard your name being called and stood up to grab your coffee order. You bid them a thank you as you walked to the office. Today was your first day working for Smosh and you couldn’t have been more excited. About a month ago you had auditioned for them seeing that they had an opening. You thought it’d be perfect since you were moving back to LA and you had been a Smosh fan for a few years. Hearing back from them saying they thought you would fit in felt like a dream. You had applied to be both cast and crew, being able to edit some videos and be apart of the videos as well. Walking up to the office you took a deep breath and headed inside, ready for your first day.

Once you stepped inside, you headed to the office to start with introductions first. Reaching the office you ran into Selina who couldn’t be more excited to show you around.

“Hey y/n! So glad to see you again.” She said. “We’re going to start with introductions first just to get things situated and then we’ll show you where you’ll be working at.” You smiled at her joyfulness, “Sounds great, I can’t wait to meet everyone!” You said.

After meeting with Ian and Anthony of course, Selina took you to meet the rest of the cast and crew. Since they were about to start filming for a TNTL, she thought it’d be a great idea to be able to introduce you to more people. As you both stepped in you noticed how bright the set was, you could feel the excitement bubbling in you on being able to work here.

Selina grabbed everyone’s attention to let you have your introduction. From watching Smosh before, you had known who most of the cast were. You saw Courtney, Shayne, Angela, Amanda, Tommy, Chanse, and Arasha. You gave everyone a huge smile while introducing yourself. “It’s so nice to meet everyone! I’m y/n and I’ll be in a few videos with you guys as well as being able to edit them.”

Everyone had smiled at you and properly introduced themselves to you as well. Arasha was finishing her introduction when you heard the door open. “There he is! He’s barely becoming a cast member just like you too.” You heard Shayne say. As you went to turn around to introduce yourself, you heard Shayne say his name. “Y/n this is Spencer, Spencer this is y/n!” At that moment you were fully turned around to him.

You saw him, he looked the same from the last time you had seen him, only with a little more of a stubble now and older. You could see all the years you’ve been apart show in his face. You couldn’t remember in the moment just how long it had been, you just stood in shock as your eyes met Spencer’s.

Spencer looked down at you, shock in his face along with guilt and anger. “Y/n?” Was all he could say.

———————————————————————————

A/n: I hope this turned out good! Let me know if y’all would want me to continue this. :)) Also I’m naming this kaleidoscope after Chappell Roan’s song “kaleidoscope.” I don’t know if that makes sense…

[bloatedandalone04]

To The One I Love - Part 9

Series Masterlist

➪in which you’re hit with countless memories all at once, and then are sent into a full blown panic attack when you can’t reach tyler, who, unbeknownst to you, is just as shaken up as you are.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

A loud cry left your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, the pounding in your head never faltering, even as the last thing you remembered before you lost your memory flashed behind your closed eyelids. 

“Tyler,” you whimpered, weakly opening your eyes again as you recalled every ‘I love you’, every single time Tyler called you beautiful, every moment lost between the sheets of the very same king-sized bed he was holding you in just this morning, all of it. 

It was like the missing pieces were finally snapping into place, and it hurt a bit as your head felt like it was ten sizes too big. 

Every date, every kiss, every chase. It all came rushing back to you as if you had never forgotten about any of it in the first place.  

You remembered looking at this very house with him, then throwing yourself in his arms when he bought it for you. The many times you and he went camping just for the hell of it. The countless times you’d found yourself literally in the middle of a tornado with him by your side. 

Every single moment that made your relationship so strong and so…long-lasting. 

You remembered the bad times, the arguments, the times you told him to sleep on the couch, but then went out and brought him to bed with you after half an hour of laying by yourself. 

Even though you hadn’t said it to him since getting hurt, you loved Tyler with every fiber of your being. You didn’t need to remember the last eleven years in vivid detail to know that he was your forever person, but you were so happy you did, because every moment with him was amazing and damn near precious to you. 

When the pounding in your head finally calmed down a bit, you slowly blinked and let your hands fall down to your lap. The blanket you had on your thighs was on the floor now, and the pillow you were leaning against was on the cushion next to yours. You had no idea how long you had been holding your head in pain, but when you looked up and saw the words ‘Live Stream Has Ended’ sprawled across the TV screen, you panicked. 

Were you really out of it for that long? For an entire, usually forty minute, stream? You didn’t even know what time the stream started, so you couldn’t use that knowledge to figure it out as you looked around for your phone you had dropped when you remembered exactly what caused your memory loss almost three weeks ago. 

What if something had happened to him while you were hit with your memories like a freight train? What if he didn’t end the stream, but it got disconnected because he got caught up in something? 

Irrational thoughts swarmed around your already full head, and it just made it pound more as you quickly got up from the couch, your whole body tensed up from nerves and anxiety. 

Your hands were shaking when you finally found your phone, half under the couch and hidden by the blanket. You clicked on Tyler’s contact and waited for him to pick up, and you knew he never let it get to the third ring whenever you called, so when it went to the fifth and then to his voicemail, you were panicking even more. 

He said that he’d have his phone on him the whole time and that you could call him if you needed anything, but he wasn’t picking up. Why wasn’t he picking up? 

When you called him two more times, your nerves were shot and you were sweating a bit as your heart pounded. Not knowing what else to do, you called Lilly and had tears in your eyes that quickly spilled once she picked up with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Lilly,” you gasped, holding your phone to your ear with sweaty palms as you looked at the TV screen that still showed the same message as before. “I’m…where’s…where is he? Where’s Tyler? What happened to him?” 

You fired questions at her before she could even think of the answer to any of them, your vision blurred as you heard her mumble something to someone on the other end of the line. 

“Lilly, please!” You begged, crying softly as you paced around your living room that was filled with yours and Tyler’s things. “I need him. I need to see him! I need to talk to him, Lilly, please. Please, tell me he’s there with you.”

Lilly quietly hushed you, and the background noise faded a bit before she spoke up again, “He’s not here, Y/n/n,” she said and it made your heart beat even faster. “He’s on his way to you right now, okay? He’s on his way home. Talk to me, tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You couldn’t process her words as you moved to sit on the floor, your watery eyes glued to the flat screen. “I need him,” you whimpered, “I need him, Lilly. Tell me he’s okay. Please, I need him to be okay and I need him here. I need him here with me.”

“Shh, hey, he’s on his way, yeah? He’s comin’,” she said, but it was like you couldn’t bring yourself to really listen to her words, let alone believe them. “Tell me what’s goin’ on, Y/n. You remember somethin’?”

You sniffled and leaned back against the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest. “I remember all of it,” you whispered, “Every bit of it. And then it was over, and it ended, and he’s still not here and he didn’t answer his phone. Lilly, please. Is he okay?” 

The connection was spotty, and you weren’t sure if it was because the weather was still bad or not, but when you could no longer hear Lilly’s attempts at calming you down or hear why Tyler didn’t answer his phone, you dropped yours and began pacing around the living room with tears still rolling down your face. 

But then you heard the sound of the truck you loved so much outside the house, and you practically yanked the front door open and ran out into the rain. 

-

The weather was absolutely terrible, but the tornado itself wasn’t that bad. 

It pretty much dissolved completely less than fifteen minutes after it had formed, but Tyler was kind of glad since he hadn’t chased in a few weeks up until that point, so it was a nice way to ease back into it. 

With that being said, he hadn’t planned on dropping his phone in between the seats of his truck when he made it back to the lot, and his hand was far too big to reach it by the time he heard the sound of your ringtone.

He told you to call him if you needed him, and you had called him three times before never calling him again, but he didn’t have the time to worry before Lilly came over to where he was halfway under the steering wheel, trying to shove his hand under the seat of his truck. 

When she told him that you were on the phone pretty much freaking out and rambling on and on, he forgot about his task of retrieving his own phone and immediately started the truck to drive back home to you. 

Tyler was a bit terrified that something bad had happened to you in the forty minutes he was gone, and he would never forgive himself if your injury worsened and he wasn’t there for you. 

While he tried to not think the worse, he couldn’t help it. You were fine when he left you, but now you were apparently losing your mind on the phone with Lilly. What did he miss? He had no idea, but his heart was in his throat as he carelessly drove through the heavy rain all the way back home. 

When he finally pulled into the dirt driveway, the truck was barely in park before he was pushing the door open at the same time the front door to the house swung open. Tyler instantly became soaked from the rain, as did you as you ran over to him and threw yourself into his arms. 

You were shaking, but it wasn’t because you were cold from the rain. No, you were crying, hard, and he wrapped you up tightly and held you firmly against his chest as he tried to think of what could’ve possibly made you this worked up. “Y/n,” he murmured, trying to pull back just enough to look at you properly, but you just cried harder and hugged him tighter. “Baby, hey, what happened? What’s wrong?” 

“Tyler,” you whimpered, clinging onto the front of his drenched shirt as you pressed your face against the side of his neck. “You’re okay…you’re-you’re okay. You’re here. You’re here.”

“I’m here,” he echoed, tangling his fingers in your wet hair. “I’m sorry, I dropped my-”

“Why didn’t you answer?” You cut him off as you tighten your grip on his shirt. “I called you…I called you, why didn’t you pick up?”

You were hyperventilating now, and he was panicking a bit as he held you against his body. He didn’t know why you didn’t think he was fine or safe, but he didn’t prioritize that right now. Your body was already cold, and your tears were mixing with the harsh rain drops, and he needed to get you out of this weather. “Okay, baby,” he mumbled, “Let’s get you inside, yeah? Come on, let’s-”

“I remember everything,” you cut him off, and those three words had his own body freezing up. 

“What?” Tyler’s hands gripped your shoulders tighter as he processed your words, and his eyes were wide and vulnerable as he pried your body away from his to be able to look at your full face. Your pretty irises were rimmed with red and he could see the tears on your water lines, and his heart felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest. “You…you remember everythin’? Are you serious?”

You nodded instantly, reaching up to grip his wrists as you sobbed. “I remember it all. I remember the accident, the storm…our first night here,” you gave him a teary laugh that had his own eyes burning as he felt his mouth curve into a big, relieved smile. “All of it.”

Tyler hadn’t felt this overjoyed in so long, and he almost forgot what it felt like to be completely and utterly happy. Even as he stood with you under the pouring rain that would most likely give him a cold soon. But he didn’t get the chance to tell you just how fucking happy you had just made him before you were telling him the words he’d been dying to hear from you for weeks now. 

“I love you,” you whimpered, your hands tightening on his wrists as you looked up at him with unguarded eyes. “I love you so much, Ty. I always have and I promise you I always will. I love you.”

And that was when he felt like he could finally breathe again. Like the hole in his heart was entirely filled in and fixed. 

And then he was gripping your face and leaning down to press his lips to yours in a deep kiss. And then you were kissing him back. 

 Even though kissing had just been re-introduced into your relationship as of this morning, kissing you like this is what Tyler had been craving for weeks. 

His thumbs pressed into your soft cheeks as the rest of his fingers caressed your jaw, kissing you as if you held the last breath of air left in the world between your lips, and he wasn’t sure if he could stop. 

He missed you. Every fucking part of you. And although your memories were back, he knew that even though it felt like it, he had never actually lost you. You were always right there by his side, so trusting and willing so damn perfect in every way. You were never gone. 

Tyler had no idea how long you and he made out in the rain for, but eventually he got you back inside and into the living room. Wanting to spare the couch from getting soaked, you and Tyler stumbled your way around it and ended up sprawled out on the floor, your bodies only cushioned by a blanket that was already there. 

But he was comfortable and completely content, because he had you. 

“You really remember everythin’?” He asked in between kisses as he gently pressed you against the floor with his weight. “All of it?” 

You nodded, running your fingers through his wet hair in the exact same way you always did before. “All of it,” you mumbled, still holding onto him like you were terrified he’d disappear if you were to let go. 

Tyler closed his eyes and buried his face against your cold neck, his lips peppering soft kisses along your skin. “What happened the first time we ever went campin’?” he asked, still not entirely convinced that this wasn’t a dream, that you truly did remember every moment he held close to his heart. 

“We brought every single thing we needed except for bug spray, and ended up ditching the tent to sleep on the backseat of the truck because we were both getting eaten alive by mosquitoes,” you answered and Tyler felt a warmth spread all over his body. 

His clothes were soaked and stuck to his skin, and he was cold, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking another question, “What about your twenty-fifth birthday?” 

You smiled up at him and bumped your nose gently against his. “You surprised me with a trip to Paris since I’d been talking about going there since I was sixteen,” you replied, “But when we got there, we couldn’t understand anything since we both cheated off of Kevin Adams on every test in our French class, so we didn’t actually learn the language.” 

That one made Tyler laugh, because you even remembered the poor kid’s name who was oblivious to the way Tyler would purposely sit behind him in class so he could look over his shoulder for the answers he’d share with you after. 

“Our fourth anniversary?” He asked in a whisper as he pulled away to look you in the eyes. You looked so pretty, your hair damp and tangled, your eyes glassy and your lips puffy. God, he adored you more than anything else in the entire world. 

Your expression softened as your thumbs tugged at his bottom lip. “We got wasted at a dive bar after using our ID’s for the first time, then ended up celebrating it properly the day after by going out to dinner and then a showing of The Sixth Sense at the drive in,” 

Tyler groaned quietly, leaning in to press his lips to yours as he mumbled, “You’re so perfect, baby,” then he began to press kisses all along your neck. “Every single part of you.” 

Your soft moan was music to his ears and it heated up his cold body with just that. Your fingers tangled in his hair again as he pressed countless kisses to your neck and shoulders, and he was totally fine with staying like that for the rest of the day, but you had a different idea. “Ty,” you murmured, “Take me to bed.”

He grinned against your skin, not lifting his head as he asked, “Feelin’ tired, baby?”

Tyler would gladly have a late afternoon nap with you in bed, but that wasn’t what you had in mind, clearly, as your next words had him freezing up in a completely different way. “No, not like that…I want to feel you, baby,” you whispered, and he hadn’t heard you call him that in what felt like forever, but he couldn’t even focus on that part when you just offered yourself to him so sweetly. “All of you.” 

He pulled back to look into your pretty eyes, and one of his hands came up to gently caress your cheek. “Baby…are you sure you’re ready for that?” He asked quietly, his eyes flickering to where your stitches used to be before meeting yours again. “Your heads a mess right now, and you just got your stitches taken out.” 

You gave him a sheepish smile and a shrug, “Guess you’ll just have to be extra gentle with me?”

And he knew he would do anything you wanted him to do if you asked him exactly like that. 

So he nodded and stood up, offering you his hand. He laced his fingers with yours and led you down the hall to your bedroom, his hold on you so soft, he couldn’t remember a time he was this gentle with you after your relationship hit the one year mark. Things were so new back then, you and he were still exploring each other. But now he knows you like the back of his hand. He knew your body better than his own. 

Standing at the foot of the bed, Tyler paused, unsure of where to go from here. He wasn’t nervous or uncertain, he wanted this just as much as you did, but he was scared that he’d push you too far, that he’d mess up somehow. 

And you seemed to realize that as you reached out and unbuttoned his shirt before peeling the damp fabric away from his chilled body that somehow also felt like it was on fire. You moved onto your shirt, and he watched with hooded eyes as you pulled it off and dropped it onto the floor next to his, leaving your top half bare. 

Even though he’s seen you naked thousands of times, you looked more beautiful every single time he got to see you like this. You were just so effortlessly stunning, inside and out, and he still couldn’t believe that he was the person that gets to see every inch of you like this for the rest of your lives. 

When you stepped towards him again, Tyler leaned back down and kissed you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he eased you down onto the bed. His body covered yours entirely, his hips settling in between your thighs as he deepened the kiss. And even though you were never gone, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “I missed you so much,” 

Because, really, he missed you all the time. When he got up earlier than you did and left you in bed to rest more, when he had to run out into town to do errands, when he had to wait outside the dressing room while you tried on things, even though you always showed him your possible new outfit less than a minute after leaving his side. 

“I’m here,” you whispered, stroking his face with your fingers, your thumbs brushing along his stubble. “I’m right here, Ty.”

His fingers wrapped around one of your wrists and brought your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, then to your palm. “You’re everythin’,” he murmured, “My whole world, baby. I love you so much.”

He barely got to see the big grin that took over your lips before he was leaning down and pressing a kiss to your mouth. “Please,” you whimpered when he pulled back and began placing kisses along your jawline and down your throat. He missed kissing you like this, touching you like this, physically showing you just how much he loved you. “I need you, Ty.”

Tyler reached down to pull at the string of your sweats before pushing them down your legs, his fingers hooking into the thin fabric of your panties as well to leave you completely bare to his eyes. “My sweet girl,” he mumbled, connecting your lips again as his hand slid down your body until his fingers brushed against your wetness, and he slowly worked you open. 

It had been weeks since he last did this with you, so you were a bit tighter down there than usual because of the lack of intimacy. But he got you there, ensuring that there would be no pain when he slid himself inside your sweet, wet walls he’s always had a craving for ever since the first time in that motel room. 

Tyler’s lips broke away from yours to pepper kisses along your collar bones. His free hand came up to cover your soft breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardened under his touch. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby,” he mumbled against your skin as he felt your arousal coat his fingers. 

Your soft whine met his ears as your head fell back on the bed. “Now…now,” you answered, reaching up to grip his shoulders tightly. “Now, baby. I need you.”

Tyler slowly pulled his fingers from your tight heat before giving himself a few strokes as he positioned himself at your entrance. When just his tip slipped inside, he groaned and held back from fully thrusting. You were tight, like always, but more than usual, like he suspected. “God, babe,” he muttered, pressing his face against the side of your neck as he slowly slid all the way inside you, holding still to let your body readjust to him. 

His hands framed your face, his lips pressing gently against the red line on your head that still looked a bit sore from the removal of your stitches. He briefly wondered if that stupid doctor’s roughness might have played a part in the return of your memories, but when he gave a slow roll of his hips, his mind became focused solely on you. 

Tyler pressed a few more, barely-there kisses to your head before looking back down at you, his brows furrowed as he started to rock into you. “All mine,” he rasped, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. 

You whimpered in response, gripping his wrists as you gazed up at him with the same look of pure adoration you’ve given him for the last eleven years. “Yours,” you confirmed, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Tyler kissed you deeply, seemingly unable to keep his hands and lips off you for even a second right now. He withdrew himself until only an inch remained before sliding back inside your tightness, low groans leaving the back of his throat with each thrust. 

He wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t trying to get you off as fast as possible right now. He wanted to savor every heavenly drag of his body against yours, the familiar feeling of your snug core gripping his cock, the way each thrust pushed him deeper and deeper. It all felt better than anything else in the world, like it always did. 

“So good, baby,” he praised in a low voice, sliding one hand around you to grip your lower back, tilting your hips to allow him to push himself even deeper. His other hand gripped the headboard above you for leverage as he let the feeling of being back inside you take him over. “I love you so damn much.”

“Oh, God,” you gasped, your eyes closing as you let him completely worship your body in all the ways he did before your accident. “I love you too. So much.” 

It was as if both of you couldn’t stop saying it at this point, and Tyler felt his eyes sting with tears at just how fucking happy he was in this moment. Here, with you, he felt weightless. And only you had ever made him feel like this. 

Still, he didn’t want you to see the tears that threatened to escape his eyes, even though he knew you’d never judge him. He buried his face against your shoulder, his harsh and deep groans muffled against your heated skin. 

It was safe to say that both of you were warmed up now. 

“I’m not gonna last,” he grunted, angling your body so he could grind his hips more firmly against yours. “I need you to cum first, baby. I need to feel you.” 

“Ty,” you whined, your head falling back on the pillow as you cried out so beautifully. He felt it when you came around him, and the feeling was so deliciously familiar, his pace began to falter as you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders. “God, yes, baby.”

That was all it took to send Tyler over the edge as well. His body shuddered as he came, his hips stilling against yours as he groaned against your neck as he filled you up.

Instead of collapsing against you like he normally would, he eased your body back down onto the bed and hovered over you, his fingers gently brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you as he was quite literally unwilling to let you go right now. 

You nodded with a lazy smile, reaching up to rub his lower lip with your thumb. “Ty,” you started, your other hand smoothing out his messy hair as your chest heaved with uneven breaths. “I know why I couldn’t bring myself to say yes whenever you proposed to me.”

Those words had his eyes widening a bit, not expecting that to be the first thing out of your mouth once your breathing was relatively back to normal. “Really?” He rasped, cradling your head in his hands. “Why?”

Your face reddened a bit as you gave him an embarrassed smile. “I was scared,” you whispered. “It’s so, so stupid, but…growing up and hearing about all the marriages that ended in divorce or how they made people hate each other…it freaked me out. It’s so stupid because I know our relationship is different from everyone else’s, but I was terrified of ruining what we have.” 

That was a bit surprising, because he hadn’t thought about that at all. Not once did he think that getting married would change things so drastically to the point where he would begin to loathe you instead of love you unconditionally. But it made sense to be scared of it. He’d also heard his fair share of failed marriage stories, he was just never phased by them because he knew he would be happy for the rest of his life as long as he had you by his side. 

“But I know that we’re stronger than that,” you added before he could say anything, “I mean, we made it through me losing my memory. That makes us pretty damn strong, I think.”

Tyler grinned at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yeah, we are pretty damn strong, baby,” he nodded, “It took you gettin’ this pretty head all banged up to realize that?”

You blushed and buried your face against the side of his neck. “No, I always knew it,” you whispered, “And I promise, if you ever want to ask me again, I’ll say yes. Because I’m ready and I’m not scared anymore. I’m never scared with you, Ty. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you.” 

There was the second time you had told him that in a week, and Tyler felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything he could possibly ever want is right here in his arms, and you just told him you’re ready for what he had been dreaming of doing for years now. 

What better time than now to make it official? “Well, if you say so,” he murmured, keeping one hand on the swell of your back as he reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out the black box that’s been in there for a long time now. He held the small box in his palm, looking down at you with a hesitant smile, despite everything you had just said. “Baby…will you marry me?” He whispered, hoping like hell that this would be the last time he asked you this. 

Your eyes glazed over as you took the box from his hand, and you opened it, revealing the radiant shaped diamond ring he’d picked out so long ago now. You pressed your lips together and nodded, pulling the ring free and sliding it onto your finger without saying a word. 

Tyler felt his own eyes tear up again when you grinned up at him and gripped his face in your hands, the cool metal of your new permanent piece of jewelry pressing against his warm skin. “Yes,” you murmured, nodding again after, and Tyler leaned down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

He groaned against your mouth when shifted his hips and finally pulled out of you, his body still pressing yours against the bed. “I love you so much, baby. Forever and ever and ever,” he mumbled, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips before his eyes opened quickly and he pulled away from you as he realized something rather serious. “Oh fuck…baby, we didn’t use a condom and you haven’t been takin’ your pill…fuck, we just did that with no protection.”

But even as he said those life changing words, he didn’t feel scared or nervous, because he knew he wanted to start a family with you one day, that was a given, and he was ready when you were. 

Still, he knew now that you were ready for marriage, but had no clue if you were on board with starting a family, well…now, if you ended up getting pregnant from this. 

But then you smiled up at him and shrugged, “We’ve had scarier things happen to us,” and he knew that without a doubt, he would be spending the rest of his days with you, where he belonged.

-

One more part (an epilogue) after this :')

[steddieas-shegoes]

On school picture day, Steve always gets the kids ready. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to, it’s that he kind of hates making them dress up for a photo when 99% of the time, they’re just kids.

Except Steve had to go to a training conference for guidance counselors this week and picture day is happening whether they like it or not.

Their oldest, Jules, can do everything herself now. Prefers it, actually. She’s been extremely independent since she turned 10 a few months ago and neither of them try to stop her.

But their twins are only six, and James and Connor are like tornadoes who interrupted a category five hurricane and wore their most stained clothes while doing it.

“Let’s at least brush your hair,” Eddie suggested, already mentally preparing for the arguments that would cause. “Just for the picture and then you can mess it up however you want.”

“But daddy lets us wear it crazy!” Connor lies.

“And he lets us take off our shirts!” James lied even more.

“You guys don’t even know how to lie right,” Jules said as she finished braiding her own hair.

“We don’t lie!” They said in unison.

Eddie used to think the twins talking and doing things at the same time was just coincidence, but now he knows it has to be some kind of evolutionary benefit to outsmart the parents.

“Let’s call daddy then and ask,” Eddie said, immediately being met with silence. “Oh, can we not? If he lets you do that stuff, then it shouldn’t be a problem right?”

The twins shake their heads.

“Great!” Eddie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and pretends to dial Steve. Steve’s not gonna answer, so he just sends a quick text to let him know it’s fine and to let it ring to voicemail. He holds the phone up to his ear as it rings twice and then goes to voicemail. “Hey sweetheart. You know how it’s picture day? Mhm. Well the twins told me you usually let them just go without brushing their hair or even wearing a shirt! I thought that sounded silly. So you don’t?”

“Wait! Okay we lied a little!” Connor yelled, suddenly panicking at being caught.

“And maybe a lot!” James added, already trying to climb Eddie’s side so he could reach for the phone.

“I’ll go get them ready, love you, bye!” Eddie rushed out and hung up so he could hold James safely. “I think you think I’m a fool.”

“No dad, you just let us be crazy,” James said.

“So does your daddy. Just not on picture day. You know the rules. We do this for him, right? We get nice and handsome and we smile for the camera so we can hang the pictures on the fridge.” Eddie glanced at last year’s school photos, resisting the urge to cry at how big they’d all gotten so quickly. James was missing three teeth now, Connor seemingly lost a ton of his baby fat early, and Jules had started wearing earrings. “He likes seeing your faces on the fridge.”

“But can’t we just wear our regular clothes?” Connor begged from his other side.

Eddie looked down at what they were wearing. It wasn’t that bad. No stains, at least. And no holes. That was rare for them.

“You can wear these clothes if you let me make your hair look nice,” Eddie bargained.

“Daddy’s gonna kill you,” Jules said with her arms crossed.

“He loves me too much. Plus who else would do the dishes every night? He can’t kill me!” Eddie joked, tickling James before setting him down on the floor. “To the bathroom, my princes! Make haste!”

They ran for the bathroom quickly, nearly tripping over each other in the process.

Eddie’s phone vibrated in his hand with a text from Steve that just said ‘if they don’t brush their hair for pictures, Santa won’t come.’

Eddie texted back quickly: so cruel. as his most sexiest elf, I wouldn’t pass over their house.

Steve sent a ‘🙄’ and then a ‘😘’.

Eddie pocketed his phone and went to help the boys with their hair.

When they got the pictures back a month later, Steve shook his head, but couldn’t quite hide the fond smile.

James and Connor both forgot to give normal smiles into the camera.

But their hair looked almost perfect.

[adoregojo]

"it's .... calling again?!"

based on this

mf is flabbergasted

it was a normal night where he was preparing dinner, swiftly cutting the needed vegetables into small chunks. he insisted on helping you cook even helping with the bare minimum, as long as he can ease things off your plate he'll be happy. it was a great night for him, but honestly every night with you is a great night.

that until you came to him telling him about that the guy next door sent you an email voicemail, he wasn't suspicious at first he thought maybe he wanted to greet you or something but it sent him off it was sent to you only.

he nods anyway as you play the voicemail, at first it was normal and he keeps doing the cutting quietly. he space a bit when he says he left a message days before..that was odd.

then he starts compliment you, your boyfriend stops for a while, he was now hard staring at you then the phone, his brows meeting in an almost disgusted look (not at you of course) the urge to snatch the phone from your hand was strong. but he stay still for your sake swallowing his feelings. the longer the man kept talking and threatening you the more sturdy his hand was holding the knife.

he snaps when he mentioned your childhood trauma, how fucking dare he?! suddenly your boyfriend was holding the knife as if he was a serial killer. he was ready to step out of the door to greet your very beloved neighbor a real heart stabbing warming welcome before you stop him telling him it was a joke. you actually had to hold him back physically standing between him and the door.

he stopped greeting your neighbor for whatever reason.

isagi, hiori, yukii, chigiri, kunigami

he's..something

usually at this time he would be on couch eating snacks while watching tv with you in his embrace, except you were in the kitchen getting something while he scrolled down the tv recommended shows. it was you two free time where he'd rather spend it with you than anyone, it's his favorite thing and most exciting part of all his busy week.

as you soon as you sat down he recognized the look on your face, a troubled one. usually you would have been tackled by him right now but he wanted to hear what you have first. you nervously spoke about a new coworker who sent you in voice message, he raised his eyebrow. he didn't like this already.

he decided he didn't like the guy who just spoke three words which was just him introducing himself, he takes a bite of the plate of chips, chewing on them until he heard the guy talking about your looks, your boyfriend was so baffled he choked on his chip. he thought this couldn't get any worse until he says how great in bed he is, that was his last straw.

he cleared his throat as he stands up to steal your phone, literally snatching it and mumbling who the fuck dose this guy think he is? a millions of thoughts went through his head and they were all plans to take this guy down and make his swallow his own words. he was about to lose his mind when he couldn't find his number, shoving the phone in your face.

"call him and tell him to come here. RIGHT NOW."

"babe..it was a prank."

got removed by security from your work place for trying to assault someone. he got banned too

shidou, reo, shidou, karasu, aiku, otoya, bachira, ness

never again.

you honestly didn't expect much from him, your boyfriend always remained calm and collected. not that he didn't care, he trusted you and the other part was just his natural, you always thought it was a part of his charm.

he was washing the dinner dishes quietly, with his face who was always told it was bitch resting one, you wondered what would people think of your very unbearable boyfriend was doing his chores like a housewife. it made you light headed when he was willing to do this for you only.

but it was no time to shy out now, you can admire him later. you walked up to him and pocked his arm, without turning to you he asked softly of what is it. telling him that a a client keeps sending you voicemails, for a second he seems invested, then nodding for you to play it.

he doesn't say anything for a the first minute, still scrubbing the leftovers soup plate. yet he slows his movement when the the man on the phone starts rambling about how elegant and beautiful you are, the frown was slowly making it way to his face.

eventually he stopped what was he doing, totally spacing out and grimacing at every word the guy on your phone spoke, he was patient. very patient. at least that's what he tells himself to hear the whole thing while pinching the bridge of his nose.

the message ended and the first thing your boyfriend did was head to the bedroom, his aura felt like a whole winter season. a few seconds past and you felt you went a little too far, or maybe he just got bored.

that until he slams the door open by his foot while carrying a literal shotgun, you were speechless. almost screamed in horror.

"whats his house address. i need to have a little chat with him."

he also got banned for sending death stares to every client that gets too close. doesn't get easily angry my ass.

sae, rin, barou, kaiser, nagi.

[beesonhoneytoast]

“I’m hopeless without you.”

♡ Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader ♡

synopsis: on his day off, mike hears that you were involved in some freak accident at work. he wastes no time in getting dressed and driving to your workplace. however, when he calls you, something bizarre happens. cws: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mike being a narcoleptic mess and a disaster pansexual (?), crying, confusing dreams for reality

~800 words | divider creds @firefly-graphics

Mike runs out into the living room, putting on his shirt as he rushed out of his bedroom.

Abby is lying on her stomach watching cartoons but turns her head at the sound of her big brother shuffling around and panting. “Mike?” She called for him.

“Y/n was involved in an accident. I don’t have time to call anyone to watch you, so get your shoes on. We’re going to find them.” He explained, hopping on one foot as he put his shoes on. He grabbed the keys as Abby slipped her little Mary Janes on. 

The two Schmidts went outside and Abby rushed to the backseat on the passenger side of Mike’s car. 

Mike got the front door of the house locked after a moment (as trying to do anything with trembling hands is understandably very difficult). Mike slammed on the gas after hurriedly backing out of the driveway, and he pulled out his flip-phone, selected your number on it, and put it to his ear. Every time, however, he was sent to voicemail. He left a message every time he was. 

“Y/n, it's me, Mike.” 

“If you're alive, Y/n, please reach out if you can.” 

“Please Y/n, I- I'm hopeless without you.” 

“Okay. The third time wasn't the charm, neither was the fourth. Maybe the fifth time will be the one? I dunno. I have no idea if or when you'll hear this, but... Ever since I've known you, I've felt... So at home. You're the only person I know who seems to care about me, and- I… I can't lose you. Please.” Mike said into the phone.

“Mike?” Your voice came from the receiver, laughing slightly.

Mike’s heart nearly leaped out of his ribcage. “Y/N?!” He shouted. He was so alarmed because your voice sounded perfectly okay. “This- isn't some sort of prank, right?” He whispered in denial. 

Your airy chuckles came crackling over the phone. “Mike, I'm okay. I'm at work. I just went on break and saw you were sending me like, three or four voicemails. Is everything okay?” You asked him seriously now.

Mike pulled over on the side of the street and teared up in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair after putting the car in Park. 

Abby was very confused by this entire situation. She was looking out the windows with her brows scrunched. “What's going on, Mike?” She asked. 

“Ah, I hear a certain little girl is there with you?” You teased. 

“Yeah, uh…” Mike mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I- I have no idea what happened. I just heard you were in danger and I panicked and didn't think things through and-” 

“Oh, Mike. I'm coming over to you. Are you out of the house already?” You asked.

“I'm… right next to your work building, actually.” Mike chuckled breathily. 

“Ah, I see. I'll be right out, okay?” You told him. 

“M’kay.” He muttered, sniffling slightly, causing you to frown. 

“I’ll see you outside.” You said before hanging up. 

Mike pulled into a parking spot in front of your workplace and you walked right out the front door and trotted towards his car. He couldn't believe it. 

There you were, perfectly fine and alive. You got in on the passenger side of the car. “Hi, Mike.” You greeted him softly. 

And just like that, the man crumbled, and tears spilled. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with each sob. 

“Oh, come here, buddy.” You cooed, unbuckling his seatbelt and hugging him over the console between the both of your seats. You pet his messy hair softly. Clearly, he had been in a rush to get here to you, for he didn't have the time to brush his hair and get himself tidy. “It's okay. I'm here, I'm okay, I'm alive.” You whispered reassuringly, holding him to your chest as best as you could in this awkward setting of the front seats in his car. 

Eventually, you had all gotten home and you made dinner, as you felt obligated to, considering you unintentionally scared Mike that day. 

Once Abby was sent to bed, Mike revealed that he had a dream that you had gotten into an accident at work, and to him, it felt so real that he believed it was reality. 

“I’m so sorry that happened, baby. Dreams are so weird.” You told him, hugging him for the nth time that night. 

Mike had a special little spot under your chin and on your collarbone where he could just bury his face into. He whimpered softly, holding your shirt in his balled fists. 

You kissed his forehead softly as he relaxed in your arms, moving his head down so it was now in your lap, resting against your thighs and using them for pillows. You played with his hair and hummed softly, the quiet sound of your singing gently lulling him to sleep, and soon you found yourself joining Mike in the realm of dreams.

>> end.

story written by @beesonhoneytoast. characters belong to five nights at freddy’s © 2014

[futbol16]

We Go Get Her • Barcelona Femení

This is a bit heavy, just as a disclaimer

Request:  This one is like the barca team x reader where the team knows you're struggling as your injury is getting the best of you. When you don't show up at the end of the year party, and none of the girls can get a hold of you they speed to your home. What they find, you can choose whatever, breaks their heart into a million pieces, Alexia Irene and Aitana almost passing out at the sight

Word count: 1,7k

“Where’s Y/N?” are the words that have Mapi lifting her drink away from her mouth and looking at Aitana with a shrug.

“She said she was going to come with Irene” she’s about to take another sip of her drink when the midfielder points towards the bar where Irene is talking to Marta and Lucy.

“Well Irene’s here, Y/N isn’t” Aitana wears an expectant look as she waits for Mapi to give an answer, the defender clueless to where you were.

“I don’t know about everyone’s whereabouts Tana” the blonde shrugged, this time taking a big gulp of the alcohol. She was far more interested in the closing of the year party than having to hunt down someone, she was sure you were fooling around with Claudia and Geyse somewhere.

“Is Ale here already? Ale always keeps her close” Ingrid joins the conversation as she leans into Mapi.

“Sí” is the short answer Aitana gives. It’s not like she’s panicking, but you had promised to buy her a drink after losing one of your many bets, she was also missing your company. 

The three girls leave it at that however. They go on with their evening and whenever someone asks where you were, the answer is the same, with Claudia or Geyse. That reasoning is realistic until Geyse looks at Alexia in confusion at the question, shaking her head with a frown. And when just a second later Claudia waltzes over with Patri, Aitana’s eyes widen as she shares a look with the captain. No one had seen you since the party started an hour ago and no one knew where you were. 

Immediately Alexia springs into action, Irene following as she reads the tense mood the girls have set and both of them type away at their phones. A message sent from Irene while Alexia is holding the device to her ear, impatiently waiting for you to pick it up and to hear your voice on the other side. It goes to voicemail though, which is when the panic sets in. 

“Erm so what now?” Patri questions as she nervously rubs at her elbow, concerned expression mirroring those of everyone else.

“We go, we go get her” 

The knocking on your door is drowned out by your cries and eventually Alexia gives up as she gets out her spare key, it was for emergencies, you said, but this was exactly that, an emergency. She slowly opens the door, poking her head in for any possible threat before she opens the door all the way and the team let themselves in. The place is dimly lit, only the light from the kitchen gives the otherwise dark room some sign of life.

All 23 of the girls look at each other in question as they stand by the now closed front door, waiting for someone to make the first move. A harsh tap to Alexia’s shoulder has her turning to the defender and Irene motions to her ear. The two of them look towards the direction of your kitchen as they hold their breath to hear anything and Alexia’s face drops as she finally recognizes the sound of you crying. 

“Quédate aquí” (stay here) are the words the captain throws over her shoulder at the group before the two of them slowly make their way towards where they assume you are. Aitana is quick to follow, despite the clear ‘orders’ of the captain, as one of your best friends she needed to know if you were okay.

Upon entering the kitchen the two in front of her freeze for a second before they rush forward to where you’re sitting leaning against the cupboards, sobbing. Aitana grips onto the counter as she takes in the sight in front of her, her eyes wide. Broken glass pieces on the floor, a chunk of them already dumped in the bin, a half empty bottle of liquor on the other countertop and then finally her eyes stop on your form. Your hands are bloody, blood that you’ve smeared on your face a little as you hold your head in your hands crying and Aitana’s stomach churns. 

Alexia has pulled you into her body while Irene is trying to clean your face and your palms, the both of them trying to calm you as they whisper reassuring words. Seeing you so weak and vulnerable broke their hearts, they thought of you very fondly, all of the team, the three women held their own tears back as they focused on you. 

The small midfielder finally moves from her spot and she grabs the broom to clean up the last of the glass shards, Alexia gives her a thankful look from her place on the floor. Aitana makes eye contact with Mapi and Ingrid, Frido soon by their side as they look at her questioningly and she shakes her head at them. The three look at her worriedly, but she only turns back to you.

“Cariño what happened?” Irene’s words are the first you hear after finally regulating your breathing and the older woman moves the hair out of your eyes as she cleans the remaining red stains from your cheeks.

“I don’t know” you let out with a hiccup, Alexia shushing you as she lightly rocks the two of you side to side, the back of her hand caressing your now clean cheek. 

“I was just taking a sip or two and then all of a sudden the glass l-like it just popped? I-it was an accident and then I wanted to clean it up” you sharply breathe in as you ramble out some of the words “And then it was just all too much a-and I’m just so tired of all of this” fresh tears roll down your face as you explain and the three of them share a look.

They knew you’ve been beating yourself up about your injury and how much you hated the long rehab, but they didn’t know you were in such a bad state. They’ve tried assuring you that you were doing great, even the physio had said your healing was ahead of schedule, but it simply just wasn’t enough for you, not when each day seemed a week long and you desperately wanted to be back to playing football. 

As Irene inspects the small cuts in your palm she comes to the conclusion that the glass either broke in your hand or you cut yourself while trying to clean up the pieces. She nods at Alexia, who gestures to you and with Aitana’s help, they get you to your feet, though still in the captain’s hold.

“Come chica, let’s get you to the living room, yeah?” your best friend smiles at you gently and you nod at her, the two leading you to the couch where the rest of the team had ventured to while the four of you were away in the kitchen. They look up at you expectantly, worry clear in their eyes as Alexia pulls you into her lap sitting on the couch.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Lucy and Claudia speak at the same time and your mouth twitches upwards while you give them a gentle nod, Aitana hastily shaking her head left and right next to you, only confusing the team even more. Irene soon gets back this time with a first aid kit of sorts under her arm and she kneels before you, taking your hands in her own and pulling out different things. Gasps echo throughout the room as the cuts are displayed in front of the girls and you hide your face against Alexia’s neck who only holds onto you tighter, her gaze fixed on Irene assessing your cuts. 

Aitana leans over the two of you as she wipes away a stray tear from your cheek and gently runs her fingers through your hair, calming you down. Sensing your anxiety from all the eyes on you, the girls decide to engage in small conversations, many of them asking you questions here and there to keep your attention elsewhere than on the stinging of the cuts as Irene fixes you up. But all of them keep an eye on you to make sure you’re doing all right, and it doesn’t take too long before Claudia and Geyse manage to put a smile on your face. 

“We’ll stay Y/N/N, until you’re feeling better” Aitana informs you as you notice the time on her phone lock screen and the others eagerly nod, adding their own words of confirmation and eventually making themselves comfortable in the living room. 

You smile at that, they cared for you so deeply and you couldn’t be more grateful. You attempt to move from your place on Alexia but the brunette’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you back into her.

“Ah ah, I’m not letting you go now” the protectiveness is evident in her voice but you decide against pointing it out, instead giving her a quick kiss on the cheek to calm her worries.

“I just wanna change my hoodie, the sleeves are bloody” upon inspection Alexia nods at you and she lets you stand up though her arms reach out to steady you as you almost fall back into her when something is chucked in your face.

“Here, wear mine” Mapi sends you a wink, she figured it was the least she could do after paying more attention to her drink than your safety earlier in the evening. You tug the hoodie on, inhaling the comforting scent and cuddle back in the spot between Alexia and Aitana. 

Your eyes drop as the exhaustion of your emotions and the day set in and you feel someone kiss you on the forehead, you open your eyes slightly to find Irene smiling back at you and you mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ for her help. 

As you push yourself further into someone’s embrace you thank whatever God that’s listening to you for giving you such a caring and loving team. You don’t know where you’d be without them.

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Night Shift

Content warning; Hurt/A little comfort. Angst. Pining. Simon thoroughly regretting his decision. Drinking. Drunken texting. Giving in when you probably shouldn’t have. 1.5k in length

Prev chap | next chap

You trudged home, tiredness had become burrowed into your bones long ago. Unlocking your flat door, tossing your purse to the couch and locking the door behind you, letting out a long sigh. Rubbing at your eyes as the sun slowly began to rise over the horizon, sipping on water instead of water as you scrolled through your phone. Leaning your head against the headrest, closing your eyes for just a moment to gauge how tired you were before getting up. Tossing off your dirty work clothes lazily into the hamper as you turn on the water for the shower, testing the temperature. Turning your phone back on, you glanced down at the little notification number that hung on the corner of your message app.

You had taken up the night shift to get away from the ability to answer your phone at night. Not being able to keep your phone on you at work had become a life saver because he tried. He tried to call and text, asking to come over but by the time you read them, it was 5 am, long after he had texted. The notifications used to send stones to sink to the bottom of your stomach but as you looked at the little bubble holding the numbers now, you felt nothing. And that was a victory.

He was losing it. He was losing this battle with you, he had thought that you wouldn’t hold out. He didn’t expect his texts to be left on read hours after he had sent them and now it didn’t even confirm you had seen them. So he called but it went to voicemail, so he left one. Two. Three. He stopped after five. He had become shorter with people, always on the verge of snapping at someone and had found the bottom of the bottle more often now that he went home instead of to yours. He was a wreck but fought to keep the image that he was fine. But Soap, fucking Soap, had noticed. Told him to go find “A nice lass to spend the night with, get out some frustrations.” Soap couldn’t have known better, he couldn’t have known that Ghost had tried that already. Spent nights out in bars but the moment he locked lips with someone else, he felt sick. They didn’t taste like you, didn’t hold him like you did or love him like you did.

He had walked past your flat many times at night, even knocking at the door during one night of drunkenness. He was crying, asking to be forgiven unaware that he was speaking to no one but an empty flat. He noticed the next night that your car was always gone at night, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you had found someone else?

The thought made his stomach churn like butter.

But today was the day; he had spotted you in a cafe. A coffee in your head and a sugary treat sitting on the table in front of you. He would have been a fool to miss the bags under your eyes or the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. He walked into the cafe without a game plan, no idea on what he was going to say. But he was going to say something, anything to get you into his arms again. So he can do this properly this time. Love you like you had loved him for so long. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, spotting his large frame and black face mask, gathering your items at record speed with the hopes of avoiding him.

“Hey.” He whispered, tone soft and gentle but still holding that firm confidence. You fucking hated that, you stared at him with eyes that could have melted gold. No no no no! You screamed in your head but stayed silent, a mistake. “I’m-” He cut himself off.

Your hands shook at your side, so you clenched them into fists and watched with what might have been amusement as Ghost stared at his feet. You wanted to punch him, scream and yell at him. The sadness you had at the start had become anger somewhere along the way and once you had fantasized about coming across him and punching him in the teeth. Why were you resisting the urge? You glanced at the time on the clock across the room and began to move past him before he stepped in your way.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out and you look at him like he had grown two heads. There was anger again, like hot lava running through your veins as you heard his words. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you looked up at him with fury. “Don’t say that.” You huffed, shoving a finger into his chest accusingly. “Fuck. you.” You wanted to scream it but you were already causing enough of a scene. “Forget you ever saw me.” You made a mental note to never return to this cafe before furrowing your brows. Why should you avoid the closest cafe to you? And for him? You spoke again with enough acid to melt steel, “And don’t come back here.”

~~~~~

Simon would usually find himself at the bottom of the bottle most days and nights. Enjoying the sting on the inside of his throat and the sleepy buzz that followed him like a summoned spectur. And today was not any different after he found himself back at his crummy flat, he wanted to scream and yell. Burst into tears even but he knew his neighbors were already weary of him and he didn’t want a noise complaint. So he sat at his couch and picked up the nearest bottle of booze. Which after emptying its contents far too quickly for his own enjoyment, he noticed that his only bottle of booze. Which meant he had to walk to the nearby liquor shop, in the daylight, after he had been drinking. Fucking lovely.

As he walked down the sidewalk, passing by people he looked up into the sky. The sunlight peeking through the tree leaves, he feels it again. That tug at his heart that made his stomach twist into knots. It was scary how much you had invaded his mind after you broke things off. Perhaps you had always been there, stealing his attention in boring matters like paperwork or training recruits. But now he had nothing to try and focus on, only gaps of sunlight that danced between the tree leaves. Only the reminder of how you had smiled at him once instead of the anger you had sent his way in the café.

“I miss you.” He whispers to himself, so quiet that no one else passing heard him.

It was almost Autumn now, three months since that night in late April where the spring and summer kissed each other's cheek. Three months since you had told him you couldn’t do this anymore and he had left your flat without a proper fight. He never had to be anyone else with you, not Ghost. Never Ghost, even the residual stress covered his touch like poison. It didn’t matter who he was, he was with you; and he found himself more miserable each day that passed when you couldn’t see him.

He stopped in front of the liquor shop, it was open. There were two more customers inside, one purchasing and one browsing the options but he didn’t enter. Instead, he continued down the street towards the nearby park, one he never visited in the daytime.

You didn’t know what you think you were doing, staring outside your window as you had spotted him. Walking down the street and looking up at the sky as if waiting for something to happen. You didn’t understand why after all this time, all the pain and heartache that you worried for him. You wanted to scream at yourself, tell yourself to get a grip and for the love of god, put your phone down.

But you didn’t.

Unlocking your phone, you tapped the message app. The blue dot next to his number reminded you of the missed calls, texts and unheard voicemails. Slowly, you scrolled up to the top until you reached a familiar date. Carefully, you read each text message and listened to each voicemail. Each one sadder, more pleading then the last. Until you found one that made your heart rise and your stomach twist itself into knots upon seeing it, reading it and rereading it.

I mesed up. I’m sorry and I know you’re not reding these anymoe. Just thught you deseved to know that I did like you back.

The entire thing was tragically misspelled, clearly sent in a moment of drunken weakness. What was it that your father had always told you? Drunk actions are sober thoughts. And despite everything but your heart telling you no, you typed up a message.

I want to talk.

Sent

Message read

Little texting bubbles immediately appeared. Stopped. Appeared again before a text was received.

Thank you.

[meep-moops-stuff]

Sidney Crosby x Reader - Found Father

“You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days. It’s none of my business, but it’s just been on my mind”

The snow fell delicately outside the windows. It was pitch black outside except for the lights that hung around the outside windows.

Sidney’s stare outside darted back to the sleeping y/n in his guest bedroom. She was peacefully sleeping, with the blankets right below her chin and her head lying on a singular pillow. The bed was huge compared to her.

Sidney leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

He leaned his head against the door frame as well, staring at the girl in the bed.

These past three hours have been an absolute whirlwind of emotions.

First, Sidney asked y/n if she needed a place to stay during the freezing temperature drop and the next thing he knew, he was holding her like she was a precious jewel as she sobbed about her past.

Y/n was finally asleep, and Sidney couldn’t be more thankful she found peace for at least a little bit of time.

He glance back outside the window and watched the snow fall and sighed heavily. How couldn’t he have noticed?

He didn’t notice the subtle hint that something was off with her, that there was a reason she was always at the coffee shop herself. And that there was a reason why she started to have a panic attack the moment she was left alone with him.

Sidney gently picked his head up and made his way into the hallway, closing the bedroom door but leave it open just a crack incase she had needed anything.

He pressed his back to the wall right outside the door, and tilted his head back until he heard a thump.

What in the world did he get himself into?

It finally dawned on him that he had a complete stranger in his guest bedroom, someone he doesn’t even know that well despite seeing her almost every day for the past three months.

And yet here he was, holding her as she sobbed about her past. He even called her sweetheart and baby girl- how crazy could he actually be?

Sidney slid his back down the wall until he hit the floor, pulling his knees up as he restored his elbows on them. He held his head in his hands and closed his eyes, trying to think of what to do next.

Sidney pulled out his phone and texted the first person he could think of: his teammate Kris Letang.

He has a daughter, he’d know what to say, right?

He hit the call button and held it up to his ear, half hoping he didn’t answer so he didn’t have to explain what he gotten himself into.

By the grace of god, Kris didn’t answer.

Sidney didn’t even bother leaving a voicemail, he hung up right away.

Instead, he sent him a message. He typed a few things, then back spaced, then typed it again in a different format.

Ultimately, he landed on sending, “hey man, text me when you can. Kind of urgent but kind of not. Just need your advice”

He set his phone down beside him and flipped it over so that his screen was on the ground.

Well, he thought, I’m in too deep to send her away or never speak to her again.

He laughed at his own thought, remembering the first flare of his paternal instincts he felt the first time he met y/n. He wasn’t going to give up now, not at all.

All Sidney could think about now was to what she said back in the bedroom.

How older men were the worst thing ever to her, and it made his heart shatter again.

She was so sweet and innocent, how could anyone hurt her?

Sidney shook his head and grabbed his phone to stand back up.

He checked the time, 8:30pm.

He stared at the cracked door then back at his phone.

Sidney slid his phone back into his pocket and gently opened the door again.

He shut it behind him and made his way over to the lounge chair in the corner, next to the bed.

Sidney sat down in it, careful to not wake the sleeping y/n.

He leaned backwards and stared at her for a second before being caught off guard by his phone vibrating.

He read the message from Kris:

“What the fuck did you do, Sid?”

Sidney sighed and sat up straight, starting to type away what the fuck he just did.

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Eleven

Summary: Dieter gets busier after the movie premiere and he and Emily go to NYC for The Tonight Show

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: ~6900

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites @weho2kcmo

Things got very busy for Dieter after that weekend. Meetings and auditions and interviews filled his schedule. Every day I got multiple texts and voicemails from him. I called him back when I got home, but he was a little frustrated.

”If you’d gotten back to me in time, I could have gotten you invited, too,” he said the day he’d left three voicemails about a party at a Warner Brothers executive’s Malibu beach house. 

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I keep my phone locked in my desk while I’m at work. I don’t really have time to check it except on my lunch break.”

”Yeah, I know,” he said. “I just … all this great stuff is happening and I want to share it with you.”

”I’m happy for you, Deet. You deserve all of it. And I don’t need to go everywhere with you.” 

“You kind of do,” he said slowly. “Carmen says that now that we’re red carpet official, we need to be seen together. It’s good for my image. The new Dieter Bravo is sober and in a stable relationship. Someone the studios can rely on, someone the general public can relate to.”

“I get it,” I said. “But what about privacy? A lot of celebrities keep their romantic partners out of the spotlight.”

”We’ll get there,” he promised. “But right now, while I’m still working on my comeback … I need your help, Em.”

A thought crossed my mind and I didn’t like it. “You … you didn’t ask me out because you thought I’d be good for your image, did you?”

”Hell, no! This is all shit Carmen spun. I mean, she’s good at taking what really happens and spinning it. She never told me to get a girlfriend, and she actually tried to talk me out of taking you to the premiere. She thought it was too early, that I needed some time in the spotlight alone to re-establish my image with the focus just on me, but I wanted you there.”

”Calm down, Deet. I believe you.” And I did. There was just a tiny little fraction of a percentage of my brain that didn’t.

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

Dieter showed up at my place that Friday evening with a smile on his face and a box in his hand. “For you,” he said.

I saw the Apple logo but I already had a phone and it was too small for an iPad or MacBook. “What is it?”

”Open it up,” he said. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little kid. “It’s an Apple Watch,” he said before I’d even gotten the lid all the way off. “It syncs with your phone, so you can get texts and phone calls and stuff even if your phone is in your desk drawer. This way I can always get a hold of you.”

He pulled another package out of his pocket. “I even bought an upgraded band for you. Leather.” He snatched the box out of my hands. “Get your phone and let’s set it up.”

I picked my phone up off the coffee table. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the idea of being at Dieter’s beck and call every moment of the day, but he was so excited, I couldn't tell him I wasn’t thrilled with the gift. For one thing, it was expensive. Even the most basic version was far beyond my price range. I wasn’t comfortable accepting gifts, anyway. I always made sure to pay my friends and co-workers back if they paid for lunch, or at least, made sure I treated them the next time. I didn’t like being beholden to anyone.

Dieter got the watch set up and helped me adjust the band to fit snugly but comfortably. “It‘ll count your steps, check your heart rate, all of that,” he said. “Like a Fitbit but you get texts and stuff as well. Real Dick Tracy shit.”

He pulled out his phone and sent me a text. The watch vibrated gently against my skin and a notification popped up. “See, you can read the text right on the watch,” Dieter said eagerly. “You can even send a suggested reply. And you can answer calls.” He tapped his phone again and this time the watch buzzed rhythmically as my phone rang. “Answer it!”

I tapped the green button and said, “Hello?” 

Dieter’s voice came out of my wrist. “You ready for dinner?” I couldn’t help but smile. It really was Dick Tracy level shit. 

“Yes,” I replied.

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

My watch buzzed on my wrist. I twisted my arm to wake it up and  saw a text message from Dieter. 

DIETER: U need to take next Thurs & Fri off. No questions

ME: What? Why?

DIETER: Hey no questions! Call me when u can xoxo

“I’m going to take a quick break,” I told Elaine, who as always was watching me from her office. . It was a quiet time of the day, so I grabbed my phone from the back office, stepped outside where the cell signal was stronger and called Dieter.

“That was fast,” he said. I usually wasn’t able to call him during the day.

“I can’t just take time off without knowing why,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Remember on our first date, I told you I’d show you New York sometime?,” he said. “Well, I just got booked on The Tonight Show for next Thursday, and you’re coming with me.”

“Wait, what?”

“My agent booked me on The Tonight Show,” he repeated. “It’s filmed in New York. I want you to come with me. We leave that morning, we’ll come back on Saturday. I already booked the flight.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll put in for the time off,” I said. I knew we didn’t have much on the agenda the following week and I had plenty of vacation time banked since I tended to save it up for the end of the school year when I was tired. “I’ll call you again when I get home.”

“Great,” he said. “Talk to you then, babe.”

I hung up and went back inside. Elaine immediately asked if anything was wrong. The woman had an instinct for finding out bad news and spreading it around the entire campus.

“No, no, everything’s fine. But I’ll be taking a couple of days off next week,” I said. “Excuse me, but I need to put that in the system before I forget.” I knew she was dying to ask why I was taking time off, but it was none of her business and I liked to stymie her efforts at being nosy. I hurried off to the back office to use the computer, leaving her standing indignantly at the counter.

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

I had my luggage in the trunk of my car, so at the end of the day on Wednesday, I drove straight from work to Dieter’s house. It felt weird to be driving in during the middle of the week again. I’d done it quite a bit during the summer, when we’d first started dating, but now that I’d been back at work for a few months, I was used to fighting Friday evening traffic. Not that Wednesday evening traffic was exactly light, but it was better than usual and I got to his house a good twenty minutes faster than I’d expected. 

“Hey, baby,” Dieter said when he answered the door. “You got here fast.” He pulled me inside, wrapping his arms around me and giving me an exuberant kiss. “I ordered dinner but it won’t be delivered for about an hour.” He raised an eyebrow. “What should we do until then?” 

“Gee, I don’t know,” I said, playing along. We both knew full well we were going to end up making out on the couch. It was our typical routine on Friday nights. He’d order food to be delivered about a half hour after I got there and we’d occupy ourselves by making up for not having seen each other for almost a week. The doorbell always seemed to ring far too soon, but this time we had an extra half hour to indulge ourselves.

I was on Dieter’s lap, my skirt hiked up above my waist and my hand down his pants when the doorbell rang. We both groaned, frustrated at being interrupted. I climbed off him, pulled my skirt back down and went to the door, since it was going to be a minute or two before he was able to walk properly.

“Dinner first or do you want to pick up where we left off?” I asked when I came back with the food. It was Thai food, and smelled absolutely amazing, but I was willing to wait for it if that’s what he wanted.

He fastened the button on his pants. “Let’s eat,” he said. “Don’t want the food to get cold, and I think we’ll heat back up better than it will.” I rolled my eyes and took the food into the kitchen, where I started to unpack it onto the island. Dieter got out the plates and flatware, took a couple of beers out of the fridge, and soon we were perched on barstools, shoveling Thai food into our faces.

“What time is our flight in the morning?” I asked him in between mouthfuls.

“Six,” he said with a groan. “We get into New York at two, so they’ll probably take us straight to 30 Rock from the airport so I can do makeup and shit before the taping.”

“Flight leaves at six, so we need to get there at what … four?” I was feeling tired already.

“Yeah, I think the Uber is supposed to get here at 3:15 or something like that,” he said. “It’s all on my phone.” He took a swig of his beer. “I hate early flights, but NBC wouldn’t spring for an extra night at the hotel. It was hard enough to get them to include Friday night.”

“They’re paying?” I asked. “I thought you said you booked the flight.”

“Oh, yeah, they pay for your hotel, transportation, all that shit when you do a talk show. They don’t pay you, because technically it’s free publicity for you. I’m paying for your plane ticket, but that’s it.” 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I said, playing with the label on my bottle of beer. I still felt weird having Dieter pay for things, even though he insisted it was no big deal. I knew he could afford it more than I could, but it still felt awkward.

“I wanted to show you New York, and this was a perfect opportunity to do it,” he said. “I know how you feel about me paying for stuff, so I thought doing it on someone else’s dime might make you less likely to turn me down.” He made a pensive face.

I sat my fork down and laid my hand on top of his. “Hey,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything, sweetheart. I do. I’m just not used to anyone spending money on me.” 

He flipped his hand over and entwined his fingers with mine. “I know,” he said, rubbing his thumb against my palm. “I’m trying to not go overboard.” He smiled. “It’s just hard not to spoil you, babe.”

I rolled my eyes. No one had ever wanted to spoil me before and I certainly wasn’t expecting it from him. We finished our dinner in silence, playing with each other’s fingers. This was one of the things I liked best about our relationship. We didn’t always need to say anything to communicate with each other.

I washed the dishes while Dieter dumped the leftovers in the trash (no point in keeping them if we weren’t going to be back for several days) and took the trash and recycling out to the bins. When he came back inside, he had that look on his face.

“So,” he said, taking the dish towel out of my hand and tossing it on the counter. “Shall we pick up where we left off?” He spun me around so I was facing him, backed me against the counter and gave me a deep, passionate kiss. He tasted like Thai food and beer.

“We should probably go to bed early,” I said when he came up for air. “Early flight and all.”

He hummed in agreement, already busy nibbling on my neck. I pushed him away and steered him backward toward the bedroom. He bumped into the wall a couple of times, but we made it eventually. 

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

The next morning was all a blur. We got up at 2:30, stumbled our way to the Uber, yawned through the security lines at LAX and slumped into our seats on the plane. Dieter fell asleep almost immediately, but I can’t sleep in that sort of situation, so I only managed a fitful doze. When we landed, we were met by a team of bright young interns from NBC who grabbed our luggage and whisked it off of the hotel in one car while we were bundled into another one for the drive to Rockefeller Center.

Dieter and I were crammed in the back seat of a town car with an intern who was consulting two different phones at once. She rattled off the schedule for the evening before making a call and carrying on a conversation while texting several people on the other phone. 

“Is it always like this?” I whispered. Dieter just shrugged and put his arm around my shoulder. I stared out the window at the city passing by as we drove along the expressway. He played with my hair as the intern tapped away at her phone, oblivious to us both.

The car pulled up in front of 30 Rock, the famous building that housed NBC Studios, the Rainbow Room, and other landmarks. I couldn’t help but stare up at the towering building as the intern ushered us inside. I was used to seeing skyscrapers now and then in L.A. but nothing this huge and imposing.

Suddenly, there was yet another intern at my elbow. “Hi, I’m Stephanie,” she said brightly. “Are you Mr. Bravo’s assistant?”

“She’s my girlfriend, Emily,” Dieter said. “Take care of her, okay?”

“Got it, Mr. Bravo,” she said. The other intern was already steering him away, chattering something about getting to makeup before she got killed.

“See you later, babe,” Dieter said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before he disappeared.

I must have looked a bit shell-shocked, because Stephanie patted my arm. “Karen’s a force of nature,” she said. “That girl thinks the world will stop turning if she lets off the gas even a smidge. Which is why she’ll probably be running the place in fifteen years.” She shrugged and consulted her clipboard. “Well, while they’re prepping your boyfriend for camera, would you like a quick tour of the studio? The show starts shooting at five, but they start letting the audience in at four, so we have a little time before then. I can show you the set and everything, let you pick out where you want to sit during the show. Unless you’d rather hang out in the Green Room with Mr. Bravo?”

“Oh, no, I’ve never been to a taping before, I’d like to be in the audience,” I told her. She looked me quickly up and down.

“Let’s swing by wardrobe, get you a scarf or something to brighten up your outfit,” she said. “The director likes to have some color in the audience.” I was wearing my favorite jumpsuit, which was not only cute but extremely comfortable, which was important during the flight. It was also black with thin white pin stripes, not exactly something that would pop on camera.

Stephanie led me into the depths of the studio, pointing out things right and left as we wended our way through the labyrinth. We stopped in the wardrobe department, where she talked someone into loaning me an adorable electric blue blazer that set off my jumpsuit perfectly. Then she walked me into the studio where The Tonight Show was shot.

Crew were bustling around, setting up cameras and lights and prepping the set, but Stephanie took me right up onto the stage. “So here’s where Jimmy sits,” she said, pointing out a chair behind the desk. “And the chairs where the guests sit.” She plopped down in one and patted the cushion beside her. “Come on, have a seat. This is the view Mr. Bravo will have when he’s on stage. So, where do you want to sit?” She pointed at an area of the audience. “You‘ll be in his line of sight if you sit in that section.”

“Oh, um, wherever you think would be good,” I said, a bit overwhelmed as I realized that in a short time Dieter was going to be sitting right here in this chair, being interviewed by Jimmy Fallon and looking into the audience to see me sitting among the hundreds of others, watching him. How did he do this all the time? Get up in front of strangers and risk looking like a fool? I got nervous just speaking in front of five or six coworkers that I’d known for years.

“Hey, Stephanie, you warming up the chairs?,” a stagehand said as he walked past. He had a headset on and a phone in his hand. How did these people keep track of all these conversations? 

“Just showing Emily around,” she said. “Her boyfriend’s a guest; wanted to show her what his view will be.”

“Well, we need to do some lighting checks so you need to clear the set,” he said.

“Sure,” Stephanie said, jumping up. She gestured for me to follow her. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“Um, no,” I said. We’d had some pretzels on the plane but hadn’t had time to stop for anything after leaving the airport.

She walked me up into the seating area, stopping to slap a sticky note on an aisle seat two rows up from the front. “We’ll hit craft services so you can eat,” she said, “but this will save your seat for you.” We continued up to the top of the auditorium and out into a waiting area where a bunch of people were milling around. “These are the audience members,” she said off-handedly, steering me to the left. “They’ll let them in after they finish all the checks but we can take our time.”

We went through a door that Stephanie had to unlock with a key card and through two more doors and down a hallway to a long room lined on one side by tables covered with sandwiches, fruit, cookies, and other assorted food. “Take whatever you want,” she said, grabbing a bottle of water out of a bucket of ice at the end of the table. 

I was surveying the spread, trying to decide what to choose, when I heard Stephanie say, “Hey, Jimmy.” I looked up and saw Jimmy Fallon grabbing a coffee and bagel off the table.

“Hey, Steph,” he said. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Emily. She’s here with Dieter Bravo. Thought she should have something to eat before the show starts.” 

Jimmy nodded and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Emily,” he said, shaking my hand. “Dieter’s still in makeup but he’ll be out in a minute. He said you came straight from the airport so I’m sure you’re starving.” He waved his hand at the food. “Take whatever you want, it comes out of Seth Meyers’ budget.”

Stephanie laughed, and so did I, even though I was searching my mind to remember who Seth Meyers was. I didn’t watch much late night television, since I had to get up so damn early for work.

“Hey,” Jimmy said, leaning toward me. “Got any embarrassing stories I can ask Dieter about? They gave me the standard, boring questions but it’s more fun if I can put a guest on the spot.”

I grabbed some strawberries off the table and popped one in my mouth to give me a chance to think. “Um, you could ask him about the scar on his butt,” I said. “Even if he won’t tell the story, it’ll get him flustered.” 

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Oho, that sounds promising,” he said. He grabbed a napkin off the table and pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket, scribbled a note and shoved both back into this pocket just as Dieter came into the room.

“Oh, yeah, food,” he said as he came toward us. He did pause to give me a quick kiss but most of his focus was on the food. I followed him down the line of tables as we each filled a plate and then found seats on the other side of the room. People were running around, some eating, some carrying clipboards, others just running for no apparent reason. It was organized chaos.

“You coming backstage?” Dieter asked in between bites.

“No, Stephanie saved a seat for me in the audience,” I told him. “I’ve never seen a show taping, so I thought it would be interesting.”

He nodded. “I’ll look for you,” he said, winking at me. He popped the last bite of his food in his mouth. “They’re going to call for places soon,” he said. “I’ll see you after the show. Have fun.” He leaned over and kissed me before taking my empty plate and stacking it on top of his. He tossed them both in the trash as he headed back the way he’d come.

Stephanie reappeared at my side. “Let me get you settled in the audience,” she said. “We’re about twenty minutes from the monologue.” I was surprised at how quickly time had gone by. No wonder everyone was in such a hurry.

She led me back through several doors and back into the studio. The seats were all full except for a few that had large bright yellow “RESERVED” signs on them, including mine. Stephanie ripped the sign off my seat and waited until I was settled. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the lobby after the show. Enjoy!”

Stephanie disappeared and I settled into my seat. I had an excellent view of the stage and she was right: I was going to be right in Dieter’s line of sight. An older couple was sitting in front of me and next to me on the right was a young woman who was practically bouncing in her seat. She was on her phone and I couldn’t help overhearing her side of the conversation.

“No, somebody took it,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “No, nobody important that I can tell. Some middle aged soccer mom type. Probably somebody’s mom or aunt or something. Yeah, I was hoping for the aisle seat, but I got as close as I could. I’m going to have such a great view! God, I hope he can see the audience from the stage. I wore purple because it’s his favorite color, he’d definitely see me if I was in that aisle seat.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out who she was talking about. She was in her twenties, wearing a low cut purple blouse and tight jeans. Her phone case had a picture of Dieter on it and her purse sported a Cliff Beasts themed tag. 

“I am so glad you told me he was going to be on tonight,” she went on. “I had to spend seventy-five bucks to get a ticket off someone in line, but it will be so worth it! I mean, I’m about ready to hyperventilate already just knowing I’m in the same building he is!”

Just then my own phone dinged and I pulled it out of my purse. 

DIETER: U should have come backstage they have skittles!!

Next came a photo of a giant bowl of Skittles. I stifled a laugh as I texted back.

ME: Don’t eat them all u will be bouncing off the walls all nite

DIETER: Too late The text was followed by a GIF of Tigger bouncing on his tail.

ME: U r crazy 

DIETER: Yup. Gotta go I’m on deck, i go right after the monologue

ME: Break a leg

I slipped the phone back into my purse. If the girl next to me only knew who I was texting … The awkward high school girl in me wanted so badly to rub it in her face, especially after the “soccer mom” crack, but I knew it was petty and childish. So I kept my mouth shut.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please silence or turn off your phones and other electronic devices,” an announcer said. “Remember, photography and recording during the taping are strictly prohibited.” I dutifully powered off my phone, but the girl next to me simply tucked hers into her purse, keeping one hand inside the handbag. I had the feeling she was going to live Tweet the entire thing.

A few minutes later, the lights over the audience dimmed and a young man came out to warm up the audience. “Folks, Jimmy will be out in a few minutes to do his monologue, but first let’s get to know each other a bit better.” He started into a spiel, asking those who were from out of town to raise their hands, then those who were in New York for the first time. He walked up and down the aisles, asking questions here and there, making stupid jokes that made everyone groan. 

Then, he bounded back down to the stage, consulted with someone who I assumed was the director (she had a huge headset on, three clipboards and an iPad). He nodded, the director lifted on hand, did a countdown, then pointed at The Roots who began to play the theme song. The announcer came back on. “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon!”

The “Applause” sign came on and then Jimmy was walking on stage. He looked taller than he had backstage, but maybe that was because instead of scrounging for a bagel, now he was standing in a spotlight, delivering a witty monologue. When the monologue was over, he said, “We’re going to take a quick break, but when we come back, help me welcome our first guest, Oscar winner Dieter Bravo!”

The girl next to me practically screamed right in my ear and I winced. The director made a signal with her hand and the spotlight went out, Jimmy seemed to shrink back to normal size and the red lights on the cameras went off. “We’re out,” the director said. “Two minutes.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” the girl next to me was muttering. Her leg was bouncing so hard I was afraid she was going to work her seat loose from the bolts holding it to the floor. 

“Back in thirty,” said a stage manager. The girl started wringing her hands and she was breathing so erratically I was afraid she was going to pass out.

“Ten.” Were those actual tears in her eyes? 

“Five, four, three, two, one ….” The director pointed at Jimmy, who was now seated behind his desk, the lights went back up and the camera lights glowed red.

“Welcome back!,” Jimmy said. “And now, let’s welcome our first guest. He won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for Illusions and is currently co-starring in the hit film Time for a Change … give it up for Dieter Bravo!”

The curtains parted and Dieter walked out, waving to the audience, a huge smile on his face. The girl beside me was screaming, “I love you, Dieter!,” and it made my ears ring. I clapped politely.

He scanned the crowd as he walked toward Jimmy’s desk and I knew the moment he spotted me; his eyes lit up and he gave me a quick wink. “Oh my God,” the girl beside me said to no one. “He winked at me!”

I rolled my eyes but held my tongue. Dieter shook hands with Jimmy, turned to face the audience again, waved one last time, then sat down. As the applause died down, Jimmy tapped his stack of cue cards against the top of the desk.

“So, Dieter, it’s great to see you again,” he said. “I think the last time was, what, when you were in ‘Cliff Beasts 6’?”

“Yes, that seems like a lifetime ago,” Dieter said with a laugh. “Kind of was, actually.”

“Things really have changed a lot for you the last couple of years,” Jimmy said. “But this isn’t an Oprah interview, so don’t worry, I won’t ask any hard questions. Maybe.” There was laughter from the audience. The girl next to me was perched on the edge of her seat, hands clasped in front of her so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

Jimmy and Dieter chatted a bit about the film. It was standard stuff, nothing he hadn’t already said ten times before, but somehow Dieter made the same old anecdotes and platitudes sound fresh. 

Then Jimmy flicked his eyes up into the audience and I swear he looked right at me before smiling quietly. “And acting’s dangerous, too,” he said. “You don’t do a lot of action films but there are sometimes stunts involved. I think you got a scar on your elbow from a scene in Nightshade?”

”Yeah,” Dieter said. “The set had some exposed screws and nails on this one part and I accidentally fell against it. Cut me pretty bad. I had to get stitches.” He grimaced.

“But that’s not your only scar,” Jimmy said. “I heard you got another scar, more recently? In a more intimate location? Can you tell us about that?”

Dieter closed his eyes and I knew he was cursing me inwardly. He opened his eyes, gave me an “I’m going to kill you later” look and turned to Jimmy. “Yes, I do have another scar, but there’s two ways I can tell the story. One way embarrasses me, and the other embarrasses someone else, who I suspect is the person who told you to ask me about it. So … do I throw her under the bus, or do I throw myself under the bus?” He grinned wickedly and glanced up at me. I just smiled at him. It was up to him how he wanted to tell the story and whichever way he chose, I was fine with it.

“Oh, I don’t think you can throw her under the bus,” Jimmy said. “Believe me, never embarrass your significant other in public, or you’ll pay for it for years. My wife still brings up the time on our third date when I … well, I’d better not say anything else or she’ll lock me out of the house. Again.” Everyone laughed. 

Dieter sighed and sat forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s the story. The one that makes me look like an idiot. So … I was at my girlfriend’s house. It’s the middle of the night, we’re sound asleep, and the smoke alarm started peeping. Not going off like there’s a fire, just that annoying little ‘peep’ that means the battery’s low. And we wake up and I’m like, ‘What’s going on?,’ and she says, ‘It’s the smoke alarm, it needs a new battery.’”

“It always happens in the middle of the night, doesn’t it?” Jimmy asked. “What’s up with that?”

“Right?” Dieter said. “So, she says ‘I’ve got to get the step stool so we can reach it,’ and I, trying to impress her with my handyman skills and supreme manliness, reason , ‘Oh, no, I can just stand on the bed and reach it.’ So I get a battery out of the drawer and I stand up on the bed and unscrew the cover … feeling pretty proud of myself. And then I stepped back just a bit, my foot slipped off the edge of the mattress and I fell off the bed.” Everyone gasped. “Knocked over the night stand, which broke the lamp … and then I landed on the lamp. The broken lamp.”

Jimmy grimaced. “Oh, man.”

“Yeah,” Dieter said. “Landed on my ass right on top of a huge shard of glass from the lamp. Naked. Bleeding all over the floor. She’s freaking out, I’m freaking out —- because it hurt like hell — we rush to the emergency room at like one o’clock in the morning and I end up getting nine stitches.”

Jimmy was dying laughing by this point, laying across his desk. “Oh, man,” he said again. “That … that is … I mean, I know it isn’t funny, you got hurt, but …” He dissolved into laughter again.

Dieter laughed ruefully. “Yeah, at the time we were pretty traumatized, but now it’s pretty funny. I mean, no one wants to show up in the ER and have to tell the doctor that they’ve been stabbed in the ass … by a lamp.”

Everyone was laughing by this time, including me, and Jimmy had tears running down his face. “Oh, oh,” he gasped. “You have got to thank your girlfriend for telling me to ask you about this. This is hilarious.”

“Oh, I will,” Dieter said. “Trust me, we’ll be talking about this tonight.” 

Jimmy recovered his composure long enough to say, “We need to take another break, but just you wait … next up, Broadway’s newest Aaron Burr …” I was distracted by the girl next to me frantically tapping away on her phone, which was hidden in her lap under her purse. She was typing so hard she bumped me with her elbow.

“Oh, sorry,” she whispered. When I glanced over I saw part of her text: OMG that image him naked on the floor, so hawt, I’m gonna die

I shook my head. “And we’re out,” the director said. “Two minutes, folks.” I looked back up and Jimmy and Dieter were chatting about something, leaning across the desk to hear each other over the murmur of the audience. Then they both looked up at the same time, caught my eye and busted up laughing. I pointed at them and shook my head.

“Thirty seconds,” the call came and I realized the girl next to me had seen me pointing at the stage.

“You know Jimmy Fallon?,” she asked, her eyes narrowing. I could see the wheels turning in her head. Just how much had I heard of her description of me, and if I knew Jimmy, could I introduce her to Dieter?

“Not really,” I said. “Just met him today.”

“Then you know …?,” the light was dawning in her eyes.

“Ten seconds!”

“Shh, we’re almost back,” I said, turning my attention back to the stage.

“Five, four, three, two, one ….”

The lights went back up, Jimmy snapped back into host mode and was introducing the next guest, an up and coming young man who had recently taken over the role of Aaron Burr in ‘Hamilton’. He walked out, shook hands with Jimmy, and then with Dieter, who moved over one seat. 

I did my best to pay attention to the interview (which was extremely interesting), ignoring the girl next to me who was alternately staring at me, typing furiously on her phone and watching Dieter. Every time he flicked his eyes in my direction, she tensed up. It was extremely petty of me to enjoy it so much, but I didn’t care. 

At the next break, she turned to me, all bright eyed and smiling. “So, how do you know Dieter?”

As if you haven’t already figured it out, I thought. “He fell off my bed,” I said simply, then turned my attention back to the stage. She didn’t try to talk to me again until the show was over.

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

The girl followed me into the lobby. I tried my best to ignore her and was relieved to see Stephanie waiting for me. “Come on, Emily,” she said. 

“Oh, do you work here?,” the girl said, butting in. Stephanie gave her an irritated look and nodded. “Will there be a meet and greet with the guests? A stage door or something?”

“No,” Stephanie said. “I’m afraid not.” She turned away and ushered me toward the locked door we’d passed through before. “Let me guess, fan girl?,” she said as soon as we were far enough away for the girl not to overhear.

“Yes,” I said. “I thought she was going to have an aneurysm when he walked on stage.”

Stephanie snorted. “You should have been here when we had the Backstreet Boys a couple of months ago,” she said, unlocking the door. “A bunch of middle aged fan girls acting like teenagers … it was insane.” We wended our way through the backstage area again, this time going past the room where the craft services tables were laid out and through another door. “Welcome to the Green Room,” Stephanie said.

It was not green, instead a hodgepodge of browns and tans, with a scattering of comfortable chairs and couches. The table in the middle of the room held a tray of fruit and that giant bowl of Skittles that Dieter had sent me a picture of. “You can hang out here and Mr. Bravo will be out in a few minutes,” Stephanie said. “I’ll take your blazer back to wardrobe.” I handed it to her and she disappeared through another door. I sat down on the couch, grabbing a handful of Skittles.

“Ha, I knew you couldn’t resist them.” Dieter came into the room. He’d undone another button on his shirt and already mussed up his hair. He grabbed a handful himself and plopped down next to me.

“Sorry for telling Jimmy about the scar,” I said, bumping my shoulder against his.

He shrugged. “It made for a good interview,” he said. “Better than the boring questions his staff gave him, that’s for sure.” He chuckled. “QuestLove said when I write my memoirs the title should be ‘Stabbed in the Ass By A Lamp: The Dieter Bravo Story.’”

Karen popped through yet another door. “Your car is ready, Mr. Bravo,” she said abruptly. We knew it was best not to keep her waiting.

As we settled into the back of the town car (alone this time, thank goodness), Dieter let out a huge sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat,” he said. He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven. “Let’s just eat at the hotel and make it an early night, what do you say?”

“Sounds fine by me,” I said. We’d been up since 2:30 and even though we’d gained three hours and my biological clock thought it was only going on four, I was still running on fumes. 

The Benjamin wasn’t far from Rockefeller Center. Our car pulled up in front of the entrance, which was presided over by a magnificent carved owl. Everything was done in tasteful, calming browns and cream. We stopped by the desk to pick up our keys (the interns who had taken charge of our luggage had already checked us in) and rode the elevator up to our room. It wasn’t large but Dieter had warned me that rooms in New York were never big. “Real estate is precious in the city, especially in Manhattan,” he’d told me.

We ordered room service, deciding to split the Steak Frites and a Caesar salad. While we waited for the food, I unpacked our bags and explored the amenities in the bathroom, which included the fluffiest bathrobes I’d ever seen in my life. We ate dinner, then took turns in the shower. By eight thirty, we were both wrapped in our bathrobes, lounging on the queen sized bed, flipping through the channels on the television.

“Want to stay up and watch the show?” Dieter asked as he settled on a channel that was showing Raiders of the Lost Ark. We’d both seen the movie a million times but it was a classic and we didn’t have to pay close attention to it, so it was perfect for a lazy night.

“Sure,” I said. “Not like we’re going to do anything more exciting tonight.” I had rummaged in the minibar and was laying out a bounty of macadamia nuts, Toblerone bars, and tiny bottles of Chardonnay.

“Hey,” he said.

I laughed. “I mean, we aren’t going out or anything. Although I have the feeling we’ll be lucky to stay awake long enough,” I said, stifling a yawn. It really had been a long day.

We snuggled up on the bed, munching on our impromptu dessert and watching Indy’s exploits. During the commercials, I told him about the fan girl who’d been sitting beside me and I thought he was going to fall off the bed laughing when I told him my answer to her question of how I knew him.

“Oh, sweetheart” he said. “You are so snarky sometimes.” He kissed my forehead. “I love it.”

When the movie was over, we watched a PBS travel program about trains in Scandinavia before switching over to the news at eleven. I could barely keep my eyes open by the time The Tonight Show came on, and after Dieter’s segment, I gave up completely. I took off my glasses, laid them on the nightstand and slipped out of my robe and under the covers. A few minutes later, Dieter followed suit, clicking the television off and then the lamp. “Good night, baby,” he mumbled as he slid his arms around me.

“Good night,” I said, nuzzling against his chest. I always fell asleep quickly when I was in his arms. That night was no exception.

[wildrangers]

Sweet Like Cinnamon // Timo Meier

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: This is my submission for the wonderful @matthewtkachuk in The Summer Fic Exchange 2k23, organized by the lovely @wyattjohnston! It’s a falling in love story with a dual timeline so I hope everyone enjoys ☺️

Warnings: resolved angst, cursing, accidental hurt/comfort (ish)

Your hands shook as you read the notification lighting up your screen: Timo Meier extended eight years in New Jersey. Click for contract details.

You quickly swiped it away, biting your lip as you contemplated what to do next. Things hadn’t been the best between you since playoff’s but this changed everything. You had to call him, right? Maybe just a text, to be safe.

T, I just saw the news congratulations! I can’t wait to see you in the fall.

It was already mid-afternoon in Jersey, so you knew it had to be late in Switzerland. Plus, he was probably getting bombarded with messages. With those thoughts in mind, you went about your day without worrying too much that a text didn’t arrive by the time you were getting into bed. As your thoughts inevitably drifted back to him, you couldn’t help but feel surprised that you’d only met him a few months ago.

***

Nico had given you all of three hours’ notice that you’d be having a stranger as a house guest for the next couple months and that had been about two and a half hours ago. You didn’t mind having new guys on the team stay with you, that’d been happening for years, but an earlier warning would’ve been nice.

That was actually how you’d met Nico years ago: your brother, Adam, was a veteran on the team at the time and offered his home to the rookie who knew so few people in the States. You’d been finishing up college and were accustomed to your brother’s teammates constantly coming and going as you juggled schoolwork and internships. Nico had crashed the longest because you two grew so close. When he did finally move out, it was only for the two of you to move into the same building together across town.

You were drawn back to the present as your doorbell rang just as you finished tucking in the quilt in your guest room. Nico really had some nerve being early after springing this on you last minute. You padded over to the door, throwing it open to see him and a bigger guy laughing.

“Hey guys, come on in” you said moving out of the way so they could roll in Timo’s suitcases. “I’m Y/N.”

“Timo, I can’t thank you enough for doing this” he replied, offering his hand once he’d gotten his bags inside. You shook it, unsurprised to find that his hand easily engulfed your own.

“I don’t mind at all, it’s nice to finally meet you” you said honestly; Nico had spoken of Timo often over the years. “Hello Nico.”

“Ouch, that’s all I get from my American sister?” he teased, holding out his arms for a hug. You rolled your eyes but quickly embraced him.

“You’ll get a warmer greeting once you make up for the late notice” you chastised before turning back to Timo. “But seriously, I’m glad I can help. Nico just didn’t give me much time to get the place ready.”

“I think that’s mostly my fault” Timo admitted, grimacing. “I assumed I’d crash with him and didn’t call until my plane was about to take off. I forgot Nina was staying with him for a bit.”

“Ah, I see. So, what you’re saying is I should have had Nina stay with me and leave you two to fend for yourselves at his place” you teased, earning their laughter.

***

When your alarm pulled you from sleep, your stomach sank that there was no reply from Timo waiting for you. As you got ready for your day, you debated calling him—maybe the text had fallen through the cracks. It wouldn’t be weird if you called, right? You finally bit the bullet and hit his name as you pulled onto the busy Newark streets. More worry flooded your system as your call went directly to voicemail.

“Um, hey T, it’s just me. I sent you a text but I wanted to let you know how I happy I am that you’ll be in Jersey for the next eight years. You deserve it and I can’t wait to celebrate when you’re back in the fall. Um, okay, call me back when you can. Bye!”

Work was crazy that morning so you eagerly pulled your phone out as you sat down with your lunch, expecting to finally hear from Timo. Disappointment filled your chest as his name was nowhere to be found in your notifications. You realized suddenly you hadn’t heard from Nico all day, which was unusual in and of itself but particularly given the good news so you shot him a text:

I’m on lunch, you around to chat? Miss you!

Your lunch hour passed with no reply from either Swiss boy and you tossed your phone back into your bag feeling dejected as another memory replayed in your mind.

***

You’d jolted awake at the sound of the door opening behind your spot on the couch. Timo had been staying with you for a few weeks at this point but you still weren’t totally used to not having the place to yourself. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, grabbing the remote to turn off the television broadcasting a Devils loss, hoping Timo hadn’t noticed. You turned around to greet him and noticed he didn’t quite seem like himself.

“Hey, you okay over there?” you asked tentatively. While the two of you had grown friendly, this was the first time he’d come home visibly upset after a game. If it was your brother, you knew not to talk to him until he came to you. If it was Nico, you’d already be popping some popcorn for you two to share. But Timo was a wild card.

“Just a shit game” he mumbled, slipping off his shoes and shaking off his jacket.

“How can I help?”

The offer seemed to surprise him, his hands freezing where they worked on loosening his tie. “I wouldn’t want to bother you” he replied but you could tell he was hoping you’d meant it.

“What’s your post-loss treat of choice? Nico’s is always popcorn but I have chips, ice cream, you name it” you offered as you stood and stretched before walking into the kitchen.

“Do we have any of those cinnamon cookies left you made the other day?” he questioned quietly, making you smile. You loved baking for people so it pleased you he had deemed them worthy of softening the blow of a tough loss.

“Go get changed, I’ll get them out.”

Since Timo had arrived, you’d noticed he seemed to hate feeling like a bother. He’d waited almost a week before letting you know he wasn’t sure how to get to the closest grocery store since his car was still being shipped from California. Similarly, he’d apologized on and off for days after dropping his lunch on your rug even though he’d insisted on cleaning it himself and you could never find the ‘stain’ he asserted he left behind. Because of these experiences, you waited until you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall before pre-heating the oven and grabbing the leftover dough from the freezer.

You hummed to yourself as you began lining the tray with cookies, keeping an ear out for the return of his footsteps. By the time you heard them, the oven was almost ready and you were sitting on the countertop. He took in the scene before him and shot you a look, “You didn’t have to make more, it was just—”

“I wanted to” you cut him off. “Plus, I’m comfy up here so you have to put the tray in when the oven beeps, so you’re helping anyways.”

He rolled his eyes playfully but nodded, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

A not quite comfortable silence descended for several moments until the oven beeped and Timo dutifully placed the tray on the center rack.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed as he shut the oven, turning to face you—he looked absolutely exhausted. “Not much to say, I’ve been playing like shit since I got here.”

“Oh, none of that” you chastised him, tossing a towel at his face in protest.

“What was that for?” he laughed in surprise as he caught it before it bonked him in the head.

“That was for being way too hard on yourself. It’s a new team, a new system, a new city all while you’re still recovering from an injury. No one was expecting you to come in at 100%.”

He shrugged, chewing on his lip as he processed your words, “But I’m a free agent at the end of the season, I have to prove myself.”

“UFA or RFA?”

“Restricted. But I like it here so far and it’s fun playing with so many other Swiss guys. I want to do well with what time I have so I can sign for longer here.”

You nodded in understanding, “I know it can be tough not knowing where you’ll likely be long-term but all you can do is take it day by day.”

“You sound just like Nico” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“My actual brother has been in the league a long time and I’ve been close with Nico for over five years now. So, I have some experience calming down guys I care about while they catastrophize after a loss.”

“Are you going to adopt me like you did Nico?” he asked tentatively and there was something in the way he held himself, avoiding your gaze, that made you pause. You couldn’t quite tell if he was asking because he wanted you to or if he was thinking of something more.

“Nah, I have enough brothers” you tried which earned a grin from him that made your toes curl.

“Good, my sister wouldn’t be too happy either” he joked and a far more comfortable silence settled between you.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to but I don’t mind listening if you do.”

His head dipped again but not before you caught the pink tinging his cheeks. “Would it be weird if I admitted a hug would really help?”

You grinned at him opening your arms wide, “Hugs and cookies, that I can do.”

He returned your smile before stepping between your legs and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Yours twined around his middle and you rested your cheek against his broad shoulder. As you rubbed his back, you felt the muscles slowly begin to loosen beneath your touch. Feeling bold, you moved one hand to his hair, massaging the scalp underneath which earned you a grateful sigh as more of his weight settled against you.

“Thank you” he murmured into your hair softly.

“My pleasure” you said just as the oven timer dinged, causing him to draw himself up and away from you. He began to turn to get the tray but paused, looking back at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. He was reaching for an oven mitt before you could process the tender act and how it made your heart both race and settle itself.

***

The rest of your work day passed in a blur, juggling your responsibilities with your thoughts constantly circling back to Timo. As you walked to your car and could finally check your phone, you felt your frustration flare as you scrolled through your notifications and didn’t see anything from Timo or Nico.

You hurriedly tapped Nico’s contact as you left the parking garage, hoping to get some reassurance that you were overthinking. But you felt anger rise as it rang only a few times before you were sent to voicemail.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, drumming your fingers on your steering wheel as you waited to leave a message. “Nics, it’s me, can you call me when you get this? It’s important. Okay, bye.”

You went out to dinner with friends as a distraction but constantly checked your phone until your best friend finally snatched it away. You were admittedly grateful she forced you to stop obsessively staring at it but your swirling thoughts were another story.

By the time you’d settled into bed for the night, you were certain you weren’t going to hear from Timo. Nico would probably reach out with some excuse for himself and his friend and that would be that. As you tossed and turned, you found you couldn’t stop the memories flooding your mind.

***

The bass was throbbing and you could barely hear yourself think as you people-watched from your seat in a corner booth. All the guys, their partners, and friends were at the bar celebrating clinching a play-off spot. You’d been there a few hours already and were ready to go home but didn’t want to rush Timo—he’d earned the time enjoying himself and his teammates.

You were lost in this train of thought when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. Your eyes rose to meet Timo’s as he leaned down to speak in your ear. “You look like you could use a break, want some fresh air?”

You eagerly nodded in agreement, taking the hand he offered to help you out of the booth. You were a little surprised when he held onto it as you two made your way to the cool air outside. You took a deep breath as you leaned back against the building, closing your eyes to appreciate what a gorgeous night it was after the long winter months.

Your eyes flew open when you felt him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His bright blue eyes were intent, the smell of his cologne enveloping you as you took a shaky breath. As his hand moved to rest on your cheek you noticed its slight tremor before he leaned in. When his lips met yours, the kiss was achingly tender and gentle, as if he worried you might break.

Before you could doubt yourself, your hands clasped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. As the heat of his body pressed into yours, you opened your mouth to his exploring tongue and briefly lost yourself in the feel of him. But all too soon, rational thoughts flooded back into your mind: he didn’t have a contract, you didn’t know where he’d be in a few months’ time, you didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship with Nico, you couldn’t risk him not feeling for you how you did for him.

Seeming to sense your unease, Timo pulled away slightly, eyes searching yours while his thumb gently stroked your cheek.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t do this” you mumbled, turning away from the intensity of his gaze and running your hands over your face.

“What’s wrong? It seemed good and then…” his words trailed off as he waited for you to turn back to him. The best you could do was face him again while keeping your eyes firmly on the ground. “Are you upset with me?”

“What? No, of course not” you replied, finally looking up at him. His face bore confusion, hurt, and worry which made you feel even shittier about your inability to find the right words to explain yourself.

“Do you still want to sign in Jersey long-term?” He opened his mouth to respond but you steamrolled ahead. “I just mean, you’re a free agent come summer. Even if you wanted to be here long-term, it doesn’t mean it would happen. You could end up with a bridge deal or being traded again and I just—”

He cut you off by pulling you into his embrace. You sighed, breathing in his scent as you held onto him tightly.

“There’s too many unknowns aren’t there?” he asked quietly and you nodded into his chest. He held you for another moment, hand gently stroking your hair, before he pulled away to look at you. “I get it, really, I do.”

But there was something shifting in his face, the warm openness you were accustomed to was hardening before your eyes. “No, don’t do that” you begged, hands cupping his face.

“Do what?”

“I can see you shutting me out” you said sadly and he flinched slightly at your words. “And if you have to, I understand, but I really care about you, T. Enough that I can’t just dive in and take it as it comes, because if you end up somewhere else or are only here for a season, I can’t do that…it would hurt too much.”  

He took a deep breath before leaning his forehead against yours, “No, you’re right. If we’re going to do this, I want to do it right. You deserve that much.”

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“Me too” he replied, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Since that night, you’d been friendly with each other but things were understandably different. The looming unknowns of his future, as well as that of your relationship, hung heavy between you despite your best efforts. As you watched the boys shake Carolina’s hands onscreen, you busied yourself making a batch of cookies for Timo. You were leaving in an hour for a work trip and he’d likely be home in Switzerland when you returned a week later. All that was left unsaid sat like a rock on your chest.

As the cookies baked, you pulled out a sheet of paper to write him a note to go with them:

I’m so proud of you, T.  I’m sorry I can’t be here with you but I’m just a phone call away if you want to talk. I’ll miss you this summer and hope I’ll see you again in the fall. -Me

When you landed a few hours later, you’d received a thank you text from Timo but nothing more. Over the next week, you did your best to accept that this distance between you two would be the new norm for at least a few months, possibly beyond that. But, when you walked into your kitchen after returning home, a little flicker of hope reignited at the sight of your favorite sweatshirt of his left neatly folded for you on the counter.

***

That hope hadn’t lasted long as the summer dragged on. You two texted occasionally at the start but navigating this limbo was difficult. You wanted him to make the decision that was best for him and his future—all you could do was wait until then. As you burrowed yourself deeper into the warmth of his sweatshirt, you finally drifted off to sleep.

Only to be woken up a few hours later by incessant pounding on your front door. You nearly knocked your lamp over in your hurry to illuminate your room so you could get to the door and stop the noise echoing throughout your apartment.

“I’m coming!” you called, annoyance lacing your voice. The building had better be on fire for someone to wake you up at 2AM like this. The knocks blessedly stopped and you yanked the door open. You fell back a step at the sight that greeted you: Timo, hair messy, bags under his eyes, two suitcases behind him.

You two stared at each other for a long moment before he cleared his throat, “Can I, um, come in?”

You shook off your shock and opened the door for him, “Of course, I’m sorry, I’m just surprised.”

“Hopefully good surprised?” he asked nervously.

“Mostly exhausted and confused and a little hurt you’ve been ignoring me for over a day now” you admitted then cursed yourself. “I’m sorry, I’m still waking up, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No, I’m sorry, I was going to stay at a hotel and call you in the morning but I just wanted to see you after all those flights.”

As you processed what he said, your brain was finally starting to catch up. “Timo, have you been travelling here since you re-signed?”

His cheeks pinkened and he nodded, nervously playing with the handle of his suitcase. “Why would you do that?” you asked when he offered nothing more.

“I’ve missed you so much” he admitted, eyes meeting yours. “I get why we paused, really, I do, but it was torture being with you here every day, being just friends again. I thought it’d be easier back home with less reminders of you, but it wasn’t. Not at all. I kept wanting to call but I didn’t want to upset you. I knew my agent was working on as long-term of a deal as possible but I didn’t want to get your, or my, hopes up until it was finalized. So, when it finally was, I just wanted to see you.”

“You flew all the way here just to see me?” you asked, emotions tightening your throat.

“I guess I should have asked first instead of assuming” he mumbled shaking his head at himself but you quickly stepped forward and took his hands.

“No, this is perfect, I just can’t believe you’d do that for me” you explained, eyes tearing up. “I’ve missed you too. So much.”

That was all it took—before you could blink, his lips were crashing into yours. If your first kiss was tentative and sweet this kiss was its opposite. All of the emotions of the past few months came pouring out as you desperately clung to him. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you flush against his frame, and you melted into the warmth of his embrace. Your teeth clashed and your tongues fought for dominance and you couldn’t breathe but you wouldn’t pull away.

Finally, he pulled back panting and buried his face into your neck. You soothingly ran your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath. His hands snuck up from your hips to slide under your sweatshirt, “Is this mine?” he asked and you felt his lips pull into a smile.

“Maybe” you replied and giggled as he tickled your sides in response. “Would it totally freak you out if I admitted I haven’t washed it since you left? I didn’t want it to stop smelling like you.”

He pulled away to place a gentler kiss on your now swollen mouth. “I won’t be freaked out by that if you won’t be freaked out that I only let myself finish that last batch of cookies on the plane ride here.”

You threw your head back in laughter at his admission, “They have to be so stale by now.”

“I didn’t care, they were all I had of you back home.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you stood on tiptoes to kiss his forehead softly. “If I’d known, I would’ve left behind something of mine that wouldn’t expire on you.”

“I’ll forgive you as long as you let me stay with you for a while.”

“I can do that. How long do you think you’ll be here before you fly home?”

“Only long enough to convince you to take the trip back with me. Nico misses you too, you know.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Shelbs, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing 💕 Thank you for the freedom you gave me; I tried to put in details so it still felt personalized you.

[louis-ii-reyes-strand]

Hi friends in my phone! I hope you're all having a great Wednesday!

Thank you @welcometololaland @birdclowns @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet for the tags. I'm diving into your snippets as soon as I've posted this!!

“Ignore it, you’re more important right now. Getting you upstairs and nak–” His words, already muffled by TK’s neck, were drowned out by the click of the voicemail machine coming to life, then, “Carlos Tomás Reyes, you better be dying and not ignoring me.”  Carlos froze.  TK grinned. “Is that your sister?”  Carlos dropped his forehead to TK’s chest with a groan. “This can’t be happening.” “It sounds important,” TK said, even as his hands came to settle at Carlos’ shoulders, one edging into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, holding him in place. “You should answer it.” Carlos groaned. “But we haven’t seen each other in a week!” TK smiled dazedly, still sometimes unbelieving that Carlos was completely enamoured with him. It only made Carlos more resolute in his mission to prove it to him. “We have all of tomorrow off together,” TK reminded him, as if he could forget and hadn't been counting down the days. Carlos knew he was pouting, but it couldn’t help it. “It’s probably not even important," he whined.  TK laughed and began shoving at him. “Go,” he urged.  Carlos huffed and stood up. Luisa was still talking, but he couldn’t quite muster the ability to understand what she was saying. He gave TK one last imploring look before hitting the speakerphone button on the machine. “Hola, Luisa,” Carlos answered, interrupting her creative use of their first language.  “Ay, Dios mio, Chico! Why have a phone if you don’t answer it?” She tutted. He could perfectly imagine the groove in between her eyebrows and the way her lips pinched at the corners. Carlos eyed TK as he gracefully pulled himself from the couch, looking artfully tousled and almost well-fucked. He could just look at him for hours when he was like this, he wanted to do more than look. He felt his breath come quicker as TK crossed the room so he could wind his arms around Carlos’ waist. TK placed a finger against his own pursed lips, faux angelic look on his face, and nodded towards the answering machine where Luisa was still going. “What were you even doing that meant you couldn’t answer the six times I called on your cell? I know you’re not at work because I actually looked at the schedule you sent us.”  “I was, uhh, working out,” Carlos replied. He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. TK hid an ugly snort in Carlos’ shoulder, pressing his smile into the skin.  “Working out? At three pm on a Tuesday? That’s not in the training plan I made for you. Honestly Carlos if you weren’t going to follow it, why–”  “Why are you calling, Luisa?”  “Oh, yes! Ana’s in labour and she needs you to make those galletas you always make her.”

I'm super late to this today (Mauricio Dubón just walked off a must win game!!!) so majorly low pressure tags for @reyesstrand @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut and anyone else that wants to share 🖤

[jennay]

Misery

Request: reader struggles with depression and Jamie wants to help.

Master List

No one noticed you were falling apart until the pieces fell before them and caught fire. How were they supposed to see when the warning signs came with excuses and white lies?

You weren't proud that it took them this long to start catching on. You were disappointed that you'd become such a good liar.

The guilt ate at you every day, making you want to hide your aching heart from everyone. You could band-aid the pain with a smile and continue to laugh through the dread and worry.

You found yourself isolated and ignoring texts or phone calls. Every time Jamie tried to get ahold of you, you sent it to voicemail or blatantly ignored his text message, leaving the word read under his texts.

Jamie noticed the change in your behavior almost immediately. He sadly watched as his girlfriend lost her bright glow, and that spark he loved began to fade.

He received a call from your coworker and dear friend that you'd called off three days in a row, and both of them knew you rarely called off of work, even when you were sick.

The big red flag floated in his eyes. What were you doing? All that Jamie knew was that he needed to check on you even if you yelled through the door and told him to go home again.

Before Jamie decided to go to your house, he called your mom and met her for lunch. He expressed his worries, claiming he could help if you opened the door.

When your mom heard this, she became concerned; something was wrong if you weren't speaking to Jamie. Growing up, he was the only person you trusted. While Jamie was traveling, your mom would joke that you didn't talk for a month. She weakly smiles at Jamie and hands him her spare key to your apartment. "Let me know if I can help." She tells him.

Jamie pulls into the parking lot of your apartment. He feels excitement as he runs up the first flight of stairs.

Jamie saw you nearly every day until you slipped into this funk. You wouldn't explain to him what caused this mood because you weren't sure what caused it either.

Jamie knocks on the door, and though you hear the knock, you don't move from the nest you've made in your bed. You turn on your fan as loud as it will go and pull the blankets over your head. The blackout curtains on your windows made it nearly impossible for you to guess the time.

You snuggle into your comforter and pray whoever is at the door will leave. You weren't in any mood to socialize.

When he gets the door unlocked, he wants to race straight to you; but when he enters, he stands in shock. All of your belongings are packed in boxes.

Pictures that filled Your shelves were taken down, and floor rugs rolled up.

Jamie fears what kind of thoughts you're having; he's never seen you pull away quite like this, and if you did, you went to him for comfort, or you figured a solution.

Jamie quietly opens your bedroom door. He frowns, catching a glimpse of you under your blankets hidden in the dark, the same place he left you over a week ago.

"Oh, Love." He whispers.

He pulls out his cell phone and uses the light to guide him through the darkness. He sits on the side of your bed next to where you lay.

"Love." He rests his hand on your shoulder, and gently shakes you. “Baby wake up.”

Your eyes flutter open, and though it's impossible to see through the blackened room, you can sense that it's Jamie.

Sighing you sit up. "Jamie?"

He holds your hand, "Can I open the blinds?"

"How did you get in here? I locked the door.”

He leans over your body and pushes the drapes back, allowing a small amount of light to leak into the room. You squint your eyes; you can't remember the last time you opened them.

"Your mom gave me her key." His eyes scan your face; you look ill, tired, and unhappy.

"You talked to my mom? What is it that you think your doing?" You watch his eyebrow raise.

"I'm checking on my girlfriend. You haven't answered my calls or texts and ignore me whenever I ring the doorbell." His shoulders slump, and he stares at the ground. "What's going on with you? Why is everything packed up like your leaving?" He bites his lip, feeling confused and not fully knowing what to say. "Did I do something to upset you?"

You nervously chew the inside of your cheek. You didn't know how to explain what you were feeling. You only know it hurts a lot, and you don't want to be here anymore.

You hate the look on his face. The one that looks like he's been overthinking and beating himself up. "I need to know if I did something wrong so I can fix it."

You shake your head, "You didn't do anything."

"Then why are you avoiding me?" He cautiously asks.

"I don't know." You sit against the backboard of your bed. Your hands weakly fall into your lap when you shrug. "I feel bad, that's all I know, and I can't do this anymore."

He holds one of your hands and rubs his thumb up and down your wrist. "How can I help?"

"You can't." Your lips press together; you don't want to say anything else. You didn't want to tell him that you would sell your stuff and maybe disappear. "I don't want help." You quietly say.

Jamie stands, and you wonder what he's doing until he gestures for you to scoot over. He squeezes next to you and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you close to him. "You can't keep pushing me away. I won't let you." He moves your legs over his lap with his free arm and holds you like a small child. "I'll stay with you until we can figure this out." He leans to the side and grabs the remote for your TV.

You try to get angry and tell him to get out of your apartment, but you give in the moment your head falls to his chest. "I don't want to feel this way." Your eyes fill with salty tears, and you take a shaky breath. "It's not fun anymore. I don't want to do this." You admit.

Jamie feels his heart shatter into pieces. "Love," He wraps his arms tighter around you, almost afraid you will be gone if he lets go. "It's okay." He tries, "We need to get you to a doctor."

"No."

"Darling, your sick..." He kisses your temple. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'll be with you every second of it. Please." He begs.

"I'm scared." You pull your legs off his lap and turn on your side. "I, I don't...Jamie, I'm sorry. I feel awful, and I don't recognize myself. It would be better if I disappeared. I didn't want to hurt you. I tried to kill the pain."

"I know, Love."

He takes this opportunity to snuggle up to you, taking his place as the big spoon. He kisses your neck, "It's going to get better. I promise." He runs his fingertips up and down your arm in a gentle manner. "This world needs you; I need you... I want to grow old with you and take care of you." He quietly tells you.

Jamie would not lose you to depression; he'd almost lost himself to the battle and would not allow depression to take you. Not now, not ever.

Turning on your other side to face him, you curl into Jamie's body and bury your face in his chest. Eyes are slowly closing while Jamie plays with your hair. You feel safe and calm for the first time in months. Who knew the one you tried to push away greatly was the one you needed the most?

[irondadidontfeelsogood]

cw: vomit

The Stomach Bug Sucks

—————

It’s a rainy Tuesday in Queens, and Peter is holed up in the tower. He’s in the library—something he begged Tony for, specifically for days like this. It’s his refuge.

He curls up on the cushioned bench by the bay window and sighs. He wishes Tony were home. He’s not feeling that great, although that’s no surprise. At first, he thinks he just ate way too much for lunch—it wouldn’t be the first time—but then, he figured out that half the school is coming down with a bad stomach bug. They’re dropping like flies. Figures he’d get it the worst since his immune system only lets in the most terrible of illnesses.

He can feel his stomach churning, what was once mild is now bordering on unbearable. In hopes of distracting himself, he grabs a book from the shelf beside him and picks up where he left off. It’s a pretty good book, but he’s not sure he has the stomach for doing anything right now.

He only makes it twenty pages or so before he’s really nauseous, and the words start to blur and droop on the page. He shuts his eyes with a groan, wrapping his arms around his middle. Eventually, he fishes his phone out and dials Tony’s number.

It rings, and rings, and rings, and he’s sent to voicemail. He wilts. When the beep sounds, he’s not sure what to say.

“Um…hey, Tony. I was just, uh, wondering when you’d be home. I’m feeling a little sick kinda. But, um. I’ll be okay. Just give me a call when you’re headed out, I guess. Okay, bye.”

He hangs up and sets his phone down, swallowing carefully. His mouth is starting to water, and that’s never good. It tastes bitter.

He decides to try taking a nap. He lays down and curls on his side, trying not to let the change in position make him heave. He’s really not feeling good right now.

He drifts in and out of sleep for the next half hour, each time waking a little sicker. Eventually, he gives up on sleeping and just lies there groaning every now and then. He thinks that he should get up and drink some water, but his body won’t seem to obey.

The sound of soft rain hitting the window is his only comfort. His stomach begins to really ache, the waves of nausea getting increasingly violent. He sits up when he finds himself unable to swallow back the newest round of spit.

All the color drains from his face, and his stomach lets out an extended growl in warning. He tries several times to swallow back the rising feeling with no success. The nausea suddenly gets so bad that he wants to cry. His heart is pounding, and his whole body starts to shake.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up, he internally chants.

He wills himself not to be sick for three more torturous minutes before he’s so violently nauseous that he pitches forward, throwing up a huge, splattering wave of pizza all over the floor. Again, he pukes, twice as much. He sucks in air greedily and vomits again.

The sickening sound of vomit hitting the wet carpet is enough to push him over the edge again. He coughs and retches up his whole lunch right there between his feet. He’s sweating and shaking uncontrollably by the time it’s all over.

He wants Tony to come home so badly. He does finally cry for a while, sobbing over his mess. He doesn’t know how he’s going to clean it up without getting sick again.

The taste in his mouth is enough to finally get him to stand up and head to the kitchen. By the time he gets there, his stomach feels full all over again. It gurgles under his hand, promising a repeat performance.

He gets a glass of water and drinks it with shaking hands. Not even thirty seconds after he’s finished it, he’s rushing to the bathroom with a hand clamped over his mouth. He barely makes it through the door before he throws up on the tile.

His knees hit the ground hard in front of the toilet, and he blows chunks all over the seat. Thankfully, the subsequent waves manage to make it into the toilet. With a safe spot to vomit, he doesn’t hold back.

He throws up on and off for half an hour. He’s sore and shaking, panting over the dirty water. At least he’s not nauseous anymore.

With trembling hands, he grabs a wad of toilet paper and does his best to mop up the vomit by the door and on the seat. Once it’s all up, he uses cleaning wipes to finish the job, and that does make him feel better. At least he was able to clean up one of his messes. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to look at the one upstairs without puking again. Just the thought has him hovering over the water for an extra few minutes.

His stomach is aching as he retreats to the couch, wrapping the throw blanket around himself and feeling his consciousness slip away. The room is mildly spinning as he falls asleep, and he prays he’ll feel better when he wakes up.

Unfortunately, when he wakes up, he’s immediately rushing to the bathroom, half awake. He throws up in the sink, then drops down in front of the toilet and lays his head on the seat, letting the vomit come up whenever his stomach pumps. He’s just so exhausted.

Afterwards, he lays beside the toilet and cries for a while. He must have cried himself to sleep, because he finds himself being woken up gently. He pries his eyes open to see Tony’s hazy figure above him, his face concerned.

“Hey, Pete. I’m really sorry I’m home so late. I didn’t see your call. You okay?”

Peter groans, too tired and nauseous to really speak yet.

“Did you throw up?”

Peter nods.

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry.”

Peter still can’t say anything. He lets out a muffled sob. Tony rubs his back.

“This can’t be comfortable, kiddo. How about we get you to the couch?”

Peter hums, letting Tony help him up and get situated on the couch. By the time they’ve sat there for a couple minutes, Peter feels okay enough to speak.

“M’really sorry, Tony. I puked all over the floor in the library…and in the sink,” he softy admits, cheeks flaming.

“Oh…it’s okay, Peter. I know you didn’t mean to. Are you okay now?” He asks, hand drawing across Peter’s back.

Peter thinks for a minute, feeling his stomach churn lethargically. He still feels way better than before. It’s complicated.

“Dunno…like, half the school has a stomach bug right now, so…probably have that.”

“Sounds like it. I’m sorry, kid, that really sucks.”

“Yeah…”

“You feel up to some water? Maybe a popsicle?”

“Mm…popsicle.”

Tony smiles a little, says okay, and gets up from the couch. Peter tucks himself into the corner beside the armrest and tries to stop shaking.

Tony ends up bringing back a glass of water and a blue popsicle—Peter’s favorite. He thanks him and Tony sits down, grabbing the remote.

“Wanna watch some Star Wars?”

Peter nods, opening up the plastic packaging. The popsicle tastes so good, erasing the taste of vomit from his mouth. Return of the Sith starts to play, and Peter feels comfortable for the first time in hours.

He ends up having a second popsicle, and he’s nearly falling asleep on the couch. He’s in and out of it, missing little sections of the movie here and there. He’s hardly aware of anything at all until suddenly he gets a familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His mouth floods with spit, and nausea rises hot in his throat. He pauses the tv. His breathing gets short.

“You okay?” Tony asks, sounding a little nervous.

Peter shakes his head. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Tony’s up in a split second, rushing toward the kitchen and coming back with a trash can just as Peter feels a heave coming on. He gags dryly over the bag, his stomach churning wildly.

He gags again, nauseous as hell. Not even thirty seconds later, he’s retching a stream of blue vomit all over the bag. Tony tells him it’s okay, he’s okay. He throws up again, bright blue.

Eventually, he’s throwing up his breakfast, hot and acidic. It’s disgusting. He’s shaking all over again.

It takes him ten minutes to stop barfing, and another three to stop dry heaving. Finally, he pushes the bin away. Tony keeps rubbing his back and offers him some water.

He thanks him quietly and takes a small sip, grateful for getting the taste out of his mouth. A chill runs over him. He groans softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, kid. Guess you weren’t quite ready for all that sugar.”

Peter shakes his head and takes another sip. His stomach starts to settle. He’s spent.

“M’really tired, Tony,” he murmurs, eyes falling shut. He curls as close as he can to the arm of the couch and feels Tony draw the blanket further up his shoulder.

“That’s okay, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. Feel better.”

Peter hums, darkness closing in around the edges of his vision. He falls asleep in under a minute, Star Wars playing softly around him.

—————

A/N: Here’s a soft one. Hope you’re having a good day/night!

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

complicated exes. ( mike logan x reader )

gif belongs to me

Mike was an open book to you. His childhood, his work and his past relationships. The night you met you bonded over complicated exes although Mike argued his frequent caller was nothing compared to your ex-boyfriend who you had recently taken a restraining order out on.

After you arrived home from work and found items moved around he helped you through the procedures although he would have rather hurt him instead when you found photographs of you and Mike on dates and kissing goodbye.

Mike understood why you were hesitant to embark on a new relationship so you took things slow, meeting up for coffee as friends until you couldn't deny it anymore. You cared about him and you decided that your ex wasn't holding you back any longer.

For two weeks, a period in which you moved into Mike's apartment, there was no sign that your ex was around. But before you could become too hopeful, late night phonecalls began and Mike tried to track your ex only to find he had moved out of his apartment months ago and no one seemed to know where he was, the calls made from payphones.

Despite his attempts your ex-boyfriend was unsuccessful in ending your relationship, in fact his antics only made it stronger and after three months, having a simple drink in a bar, Mike knew that one day he would propose to you. He was tired of relationships that never went anywhere, and you were the perfect balm for his wounds, and he took away your insecurities one by one, by being a caring, doting, protective boyfriend.

Your ex-boyfriend wasn't the only difficult man in your life, your boss was a sexist philanderer and while he had never met him, Mike had listened to your day which you tried to keep upbeat despite your boss commenting on your sex and how 'men do it better' or attempting to flirt his way into bed with you. One day it had gone too far and you had fled, quitting as you left the building and called Mike as you took a cab home to the apartment.

The next day Mike came home hours after he had left to visit the crime scene and gave you the news that your boss was murdered, stabbed repeatedly in the parking lot by his car. You were floored by the news and while you wouldn't shed any tears, you were filled with unease and fear as you quickly figured out who the killer was.

Mike's job working homicide was difficult enough, court appearances, smart-ass suspects, and lawyers dragging their feet. So now and then it was common for you to keep any worries you had to yourself and focused on helping him unwind after a long day. But when you received a voicemail from your ex, his confession to the killing recorded before he declared that you could never outrun him, that Mike was next, you knew it was time to confess that the calls had never stopped.

Due to staff shortages, you were offered your job back and you accepted until you could find somewhere better, and when Mike and Lennie interviewed your colleagues, they each reported a man loitering in the lobby of the building the day of the murder. One woman claimed you had motive and Mike was quick to shut her down, until Lennie sent him away to take a non-biased statement.

You exited your office when you saw Mike walk by and he sighed when he saw your expression. "Oh, no, I know that look. The 'we need to talk' look."

You wanted to smile at how well he knew you, but this time you couldn't muster the energy, anxious about his reaction when you told him. He followed you into your office and looked around. "So this is your office, huh?" He took a seat in front of your desk while you closed the door. "it's uh..."

"Depressing?" You suggested, taking a seat on your desk. "I need to tell you something."

Mike stared at you for a moment, a sigh leaving his lips. "I get the feeling I'm not gonna like this."

"The phone calls never stopped." You confessed. "My ex he's been leaving voicemails and sending me texts every day. Sometimes four times, sometimes ten."

"What -" Mike huffed, gesturing with his hand, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You would try to find him and you've got enough to deal with already. I didn't want you to go out there worrying about me." You said softly. "He left me a voicemail the morning after the murder."

Mike slouched in the chair, exhaling his anger away as you took out your cellphone to play the voicemail. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened, his eyes looking at you while your ex made threats about finding you home alone when Mike was out working late.

You knew from his expression he wanted to lecture you, tell you that you should have told him regardless of the job he had. He had once said, "what kind of cop would I be if I can't look after my own girlfriend?" and it was something he lived by.

"You should have told me about the calls." He said, sending you a stern glance before standing up.

"I'm sorry." You gazed at him with teary eyes, worried he was angry with you for withholding information but Mike was angry at himself for not realizing you were quietly carrying this burden.

He brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your head. "Briscoe needs to hear this." He told you as he pulled away. "Don't worry this time the bastard isn't getting away."

You closed your eyes when he kissed your forehead, opening your eyes when he stepped away to leave your office to find Lennie. He turned, hand resting on the doorknob. "Oh, and next time, I want to hear everything. I mean it, you step on an ant, I want to know."

You exhaled light laughter, a smile forming on your lips when he sent you a wink before walking away. You took a deep breath, thanking your lucky stars that you found a man like Mike Logan.

True to his word, Mike and Lennie arrested your ex-boyfriend who brandished a knife but Mike fired a round into his shoulder, making him drop it, and quickly handcuffed him. As the two retold the story over a drink in a bar where the events were told with hilarity as the two bickered about who arrested your ex.

"Well, whoever it was," You turned to kiss Lennie's cheek then turned to your right and kissed Mike's cheek. "Thank you. Drinks are on me."

"I won't argue with that." Lennie grinned.

You stood up from the barstool and walked away to approach the bartender, and Mike's eyes followed you as he finished the remnants of his drink. Lennie cast his partner a glance and knew that this time it was different. Mike Logan was ready to settle down, officially a one-woman man. And Lennie couldn't think of anyone better suited than you.