#whatever anyway gonna make sure i have my emergency snacks in my desk

[starlightkun]

🎶🛌

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

Ohhh I'm curious what kind of "might be the end times" N/J are living in? And how did that relationship weight happen/when did they individually notice it happening?

they are living in the “we’re nearing the final prediction of an apocalypse theory that has accurately predicted a bunch of other stuff so far” kind of end times! it’s alt-2016 and there are weird signals coming in from space and nobody really knows what’s going on but given the apocalypse theory … it probably isn’t good! N is kind of resigned to it, like, whatever happens happens. if the world ends he’s off the hook for student loans. J is having a much more difficult time with it. he is very much in the camp of “how am I supposed to keep doing my silly little job and my silly little tasks when the WORLD might be ENDING?” he is also learning that he has an anxiety disorder but that’s a different story.

(not that it’s abnormal to be anxious when all manner of apocalyptic bullshit is going on! I myself am anxious All The Time! but he’s realizing as all this stuff is happening that perhaps his massive uncontrollable spirals about it are not … normal?? I honestly think he might eat about that too but rn we are focusing on the happy stuff!!)

but anyway, N and J have been together for 2-3 years at this point. J was a little chubby when they got together, but he also wasn’t much for cooking so a lot of times in the pre-N era he would just make himself a packet of ramen and call it a day. but once he and N move in together, there is So Much Food all the time. N isn’t just making something for dinner, he’s making an entree and sides and bread and dessert and he’s making a little cheese plate for J to snack on while he finishes up work or watches N cook. N also buys a lot of snacks and J is the kind of person who will just eat if there’s food around whether he’s hungry or not, so it, uh, doesn’t take long.

putting the rest under a cut as it got … long … but pls feel free to ask more oc questions!!

J is a very empirical evidence kind of guy so when his pants start getting harder to button and his waistbands start folding under his belly and his shirts start getting tight around his upper arms, he starts paying attention. it’s not a huge shock given how much he’s been eating, but he’s still kind of surprised by how fast his jeans go from “a little snug but wearable” to “I have to unbutton these if I want to sit comfortably at my desk.” (never mind the always-surprising “even my sweats are getting tight now?”) so he finally takes stock and is like, “welp, time to size up!” bc there is no way he’s giving up or cutting back on N’s cooking. could he exercise? sure. is he realistically gonna get up at 5am to accompany N on his morning run? absolutely not. he’ll just buy new clothes.

N notices that J is putting on weight first though. he’s been on the lookout since the first time he cooked dinner for J and J ate three helpings and was like, “oh man, I’m going to get so fat if you cook like this all the time.” to which N was like, “... that’s … fine!” while internally combusting. he enjoys cooking and baking for the actual activity, but he also likes having an excuse to shower people with food for … reasons. when they first started dating he was very “oh no 😇 I accidentally 😇 made 4 dozen cookies 😇 whatever will i do with them 😇?” he notices first that J’s belly is starting to press against his t-shirt and that he can see a couple stretch marks beginning to bloom down his sides. N is taller so he doesn’t have many excuses to ask J to get stuff off high shelves but J likes to do big stretches after a long day of hunching over in his desk chair, so N gets some good looks at how his stomach is starting to shelf over his waistbands. little by little he watches J’s belly button indent emerge beneath his t-shirts. J gains enough in his hips and thighs that N can tell he’s filling out their kitchen chairs a little more. the backs of his thighs are starting to dimple and his upper arms are getting so perfectly, squeezably chubby and it’s taking everything he’s got not to get too handsy and give himself away. he wants to FEEL IT! he wants to EXPLORE! especially since the bulk of J’s gain is from food HE COOKED. he wants the hands-on experience of how much he’s helped J overindulge!

he grinds his teeth and tries to be normal about it until J brings it up, which sort of backfires but also sort of works out because J has his own theories that N likes it and starts making offhanded comments about his gut getting bigger and “maybe I should start hitting the gym” to smoke him out. (J is a queer computer nerd who almost certainly had a traumatic time in middle school PE, he is not going to the gym.) N comes clean and J is very chill with it. he’s gonna keep enjoying N’s food anyway, he might as well have fun teasing him while he does it! he gets a lot of mileage out of it. ate too much at a work function? he can tease N by telling him how much he ate while getting a belly rub and “forgetting” to stifle his burps. got weighed at a doctor’s appointment? he’s gonna whisper that number into N’s ear while they’re making out later. out of breath bc the work elevator is broken and he had to take the stairs? might as well leave N a voicemail so he can hear how out of shape he is. tipsy after drinks with his coworkers? the only cure is cuddling with N and asking him to feed him the pizza J impulse-ordered on his way home. had a big meal and now all of his pants are a little too tight on his belly? time to sprawl on the couch and let his belly hang out unencumbered while he groans and whines about how he knew he was overdoing it, but it was too good to stop. helping N in the kitchen? his belly’s so heavy, guess he’ll have to just rest it on the countertop. none of it is kinky for him but he’s having a GREAT time nonetheless. turning N on is the real reward. (N is in feedist hell but also feedist heaven. never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for a boyfriend who’s not only cool about his kinks, but is also so enthusiastic about indulging them.)

J puts on 60-70 pounds over the course of their first year together — the first half go on pretty quickly and the second half more gradually — and retires his outgrown t-shirts to wear around the house for N to appreciate. he plateaus around there for the most part but slowly gains a little more as their relationship progresses, and he always gets a little heavier around the holidays while N tests out recipes and bakes a metric fuckload of cookies for everyone they know. at family gatherings J tells everyone who makes a comment about his weight or aims a pointed look at his belly that N is such a great cook and is keeping him so well-fed and gives his belly a little pat or a jiggle. it gives N the vapors. (later J shows him some pictures from college and casually drops that he’s gained almost a hundred pounds since then. N is going to think about that for a LONG time.)

he grinds his teeth and tries to be normal about it until J brings it up, which sort of backfires but also sort of works out because J has his own theories that N likes it and starts making offhanded comments about his gut getting bigger and “maybe I should start hitting the gym” to smoke him out. (J is a queer computer nerd who almost certainly had a traumatic time in middle school PE, he is not going to the gym.) N comes clean and J is very chill with it. he’s gonna keep enjoying N’s food anyway, he might as well have fun teasing him while he does it! he gets a lot of mileage out of it. ate too much at a work function? he can tease N by telling him how much he ate while getting a belly rub and “forgetting” to stifle his burps. got weighed at a doctor’s appointment? he’s gonna whisper that number into N’s ear while they’re making out later. out of breath bc the work elevator is broken and he had to take the stairs? might as well leave N a voicemail so he can hear how out of shape he is. tipsy after drinks with his coworkers? the only cure is cuddling with N and asking him to feed him the pizza J impulse-ordered on his way home. had a big meal and now all of his pants are a little too tight on his belly? time to sprawl on the couch and let his belly hang out unencumbered while he groans and whines about how he knew he was overdoing it, but it was too good to stop. helping N in the kitchen? his belly’s so heavy, guess he’ll have to just rest it on the countertop. it isn’t kinky for him but he’s having a GREAT time nonetheless. turning N on is the real reward. (N is in feedist hell but also feedist heaven. never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for a boyfriend who’s not only cool about his kinks, but is also so enthusiastic about indulging them.)

J puts on 60-70 pounds over the course of their first year together — the first half go on pretty quickly and the second half more gradually — and retires his outgrown t-shirts to wear around the house for N to appreciate. he plateaus around there for the most part but slowly gains a little more as their relationship progresses, and he always gets a little heavier around the holidays while N tests out recipes and bakes a metric fuckload of cookies for everyone they know. at family gatherings J tells everyone who makes a comment about his weight or aims a pointed look at his belly that N is such a great cook and is keeping him so well-fed and gives his belly a little pat or a jiggle. it gives N the vapors. (later J shows him some pictures from college and casually drops that he’s gained almost a hundred pounds since then. N is going to think about that for a LONG time.)

[aiekerman]

Easy - Eren Jaeger

Eren Jaeger x Reader - fluff, college!au

AN - If you saw me post this before, no you didn’t. But in actuality it is a repost I just changed it to second person oops. But anyway, hopefully anyone who sees it for the second time likes it again lol. 

(A part 2 and/or prequel does exist for this in my brain if anyone was ever interested!)

Song vibes: Easy by Troye Sivan ft. Kasey Musgraves

Summary - Just a pair of friends that definitely do not like each other. But leave their rooms at midnight for each other with no hesitation, and know each other’s food orders, and are low-key affectionate with each other.  A pair of friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: Hey :)

Eren drags his head out of his textbook as his phone goes off. Pushing stray hairs back off his forehead and out of his eyes. His tired eyes lit slightly at the sight of your name. His fingers quickly replying

Eren: Hey u

He glances at the time, 12.03 am, he frowns, worried whyyou were awake so late. Three bubbles appear on his screen as he waits for your reply to arrive.

Y/N: U up?

Eren: I’m texting u back aren’t I?

Her reply takes slightly longer this time, and his mouth crooks up at the side, picturing the eye roll you were most definitely doing.

Y/N: Shut up

You know what I mean

Eren: Yeah I’m up

Last minute studying

He pulls the phone from its charger and leans back in his chair, one foot against the desk leg and swinging back slightly. You take a little longer to reply and his eyes drift to the top of the screen where your contact picture is. His mouth betrays him again and a smile ghosts over it. 

The picture is simple. A candid of you sat proudly in front of a sandcastle you were making at the beach during spring break. Your legs splayed either side of it, covered in sand. You were smiling up at someone, probably Sasha, your hair a wavy, salty mess, blowing in the sea breeze.

Your reply finally comes, vibrating the phone in his hand and dragging him from his thoughts. He rolls his eyes at your message.

Y/N: Midnight Taco Bell run? :)

Eren: Have you been smoking?

Y/N: No I just also happen to be doing midnight work and have a craving

His fingers move to reply before another message comes through, very quickly, and he pauses.

Y/N: And I miss your dumb face

Eren: You mean my pretty face?

Y/N: I change my mind I’m asking Jean

Eren: Shut up I’m getting ready now

Y/N: :))

Eren chucks the phone over to his bed, staring at his textbook for a second. He knows he should keep studying, or better yet, go to bed. But he misses you too. He stands from the seat and shuffles around his room, quietly as possible. Armin was definitely asleep and would definitely make a dumb comment about Eren being whipped for someone he wasn’t even dating.

Eren brushes off the thought and pulls his sneakers on, swaps his gym shorts for sweatpants and scrapes his hair back into the best bun he can manage. 

After wandering out of his room he grabs his keys and wallet from by the door and shuts it over with the quietest click he can manage. 

On his walk to his car he sends one more text.

Eren: Getting in the car now

Eren: I’ll be like 10 mins

Y/N: I’ll be the cute one in pyjamas ;)

He laughs at the flirtatious message before switching on his car and driving off. 

His mind doubles back to what would be Armin’s comments on the situation. They weren’t dating, but flirting between friends was entirely normal. He shakes off feeling the need to justify his relationship with you. You were friends, best friends. That almost hooked up once. The first time you met. But now you were just friends.

Before he even realises it he’s pulling up at the kerb by your building, his eyes glancing up to the door and watching a shadowy figure emerge. His head leans back against the headrest when her form comes into the dim street lights.

You’re dressed the same as him, sweatpants hugging your hips and an oversized hoodie drowning your top half. He squints for a second, was that his hoodie? Nah, it probably wasn’t, you had similar taste in hoodies anyway. You push the hood back when you reach the car, a mess of hair tumbling out around your face. It resembled a bedhead, but he knew you well enough to conclude you’d been sleepily running hands through it all night to make the mess. Tugging at the roots in efforts to stay focused on whatever it was you were working on.

You tug the door open and pull yourself into the seat. Situating yourself before turning to him and pushing your glasses up her nose, foregoing contacts at this hour, ‘Hi.’

He smiles down at your smaller form, ‘Hey you.’

‘Let’s get going.’

He raises an eyebrow at you, watching you slide down in the seat. Your eyes are wide as you stare back, ‘What?’

‘Seatbelt.’

You roll your eyes and push yourself back up, reaching for the seatbelt, ‘Yes, mother.’

Hearing the belt click in place he pulls off, satisfied with your safety being secured.

You grab his phone from the cupholder, and push it under his face slightly, not obstructing his view but close enough for him to give it a quick glance and unlock his face ID for you. You start scrolling spotify and find your combined playlist, made with midnight food runs in mind. RnB starts flowing out of his speakers.

Dropping the phone back in the cupholder you turn to look at his profile, ‘So what you been studying for?’

‘Psychology final, not until next week but after I kinda bombed the midterm I don’t wanna be caught off guard. You?’

‘Final project is due in two weeks. I’ve kinda got it finished but I’m not sure.’

He smiles, knowing you were just being a perfectionist about it.

‘Am I gonna get to read it?’

‘Why do you want to?’ You laugh at him, looking over at his profile that was focused on the road ahead, but seeing his lip was pulled up in a smirk.

‘Cause you haven’t shut up about it all year, I wanna know if all the support snacks I’ve bought you have been worth it.’

You scrunch up your face and shove it down into the hoodie you were adorned in. It smelt like Eren. Wait, was this his hoodie?

‘Huh, nothing to say back?’ His grin is too smug as he steals a look at you. You glare up at him, ‘Shut up.’ 

Silence settles over you in the last minutes before you approach the destination. You push yourself up to sit when the glowing sign comes into view, your eyes lighting up again.

‘Drive thru or sit in?’ Eren questions, approaching slowly as he waits for an answer.

‘Sit in, please.’ He nods before swinging into a parking spot.

You both jump out and Eren rounds the car to your side, bumping you with his hip in greeting now you were out of the car. His hands are stuffed in his pockets but you grab hold of his sweatshirt sleeve gently as you start joking about how you had to sneak out without setting off Sasha’s food radar.

Inside you bounce ahead of him slightly, up to one of the self serve screens and start ordering. He smiles softly at how you had to shuffle the too-long hoodie sleeve up to let your hand emerge.

He comes behind you and places his chin on top of your head, watching as you confidently tapped at the different items.

‘You haven’t asked what I wanted yet.’ 

‘I know your Taco Bell order, idiot.’

‘Maybe I want something different this time.’

‘No you don’t.’

The screen goes black for a second while loading the checkout and he glances at your reflection. You push your glasses up your nose, looking up and sticking your tongue out at him when you see his eyes already on you. 

He smiles before ruffling at your already messy hair and standing back to pull out his wallet. Glancing up, he catches you doing the same and suddenly moves quicker, as do you. Whipping out his bank card and reaching around you to tap it on the terminal, the familiar beep of a successful transaction going off before you can push your card in the bottom slot.

Eren grins in triumph while you stuff your wallet back in the hoodie and grumble, ‘Stupid contactless card.’

You pull the receipt from the machine while he walks over towards a booth, dropping into the seat and stretching his legs out while watching you.

Your hands are shoved into the hoodie, you sway and shuffle around on you feet. Standing still was never one of your strong suits. 

A smile takes over Eren’s face as you yawn and rubs at your eyes, pulling the hood up over your head and pulling at the strings slightly. He chuckles at the image of your head being swallowed. You turn at the sound and frown at him, mouthing out ‘don’t laugh at me.’ Prompting his laughter to continue on.

He settles back in the booth when their number is called and you wander up to accept the tray of food.

Dropping yourself down across from him, the two of you automatically begin splitting out their food, almost instinctively knowing which packages were for who; Eren always had the nachos, you never deviated from fries. 

You ate in silence for just a moment before you pick up conversation again, ‘Are you gonna go to Jean’s party after finals?’

‘So bold of you to assume Jean could pull off a decent party without me.’ He smiled, stuffing a bite of his burrito in his mouth as you giggle. ‘What about you?’

‘I mean yeah probably, if everyone else is going.’

‘Well, Jean has got me and Connie roped in to help with set up, so Connie will make Sasha go, and Sasha will make Mikasa go, who will make Armin go, who will make sure I don’t flake off early and I’ll make sure you stay.’

‘Connie and I.’ You correct, reaching for your drink.

‘Shut up.’

‘Also, Eren Jaeger flaking early from a party is wholeheartedly unheard of.’

‘I left the last one early because someone needed to be walked home after throwing up.’

You pause with the straw at your mouth, eyes narrowing in a glare. 

‘You can’t get too messy this time anyway. Bertolt is gonna be there.’

You scrunch up your face in confusion, ‘Why’d you say his name like that.’

‘Because, you haven’t got laid since spring break, he’s cute and you said you guys have gotten super close from your fiction writing class.’

You roll your eyes at the tall boy’s explanation and shrug, ‘He’s kinda cute. I guess. And we haven’t gotten super close, we barely knew each other before the class.’

‘Exactly, he’s at perfect arm’s length for a hook up. You deserve it after all the stressing you’ve done this semester.’

You shrug again. Setting your drink back on the table and leaning back, your feet stretching out to bump against Eren’s, you think about it.

Eren watches you, yourr eyes staring out into space. Bertolt was cute, he didn’t get around that much from what Eren had heard of the boy, but he was sweet enough that he knew he could trust him with you, even just for a night.

But even as he looked you over, dark circles beginning to shadow under your eyes, figure swamped in your loungewear and hot sauce staining one edge of your mouth. You were way out of Bertolt’s league.

‘You’re probably way too good for him anyway.’

‘Even just for a hookup?’ Your eyes meet his green ones, your mouth showing a teasing smile starting to form.

He stuffs more burrito in his mouth and nods.

‘You think I’m too good for everyone.’

He swallows and reaches for his drink, ‘cause you are.’

‘Was I too good for you, is that why you didn’t have sex with me?’ You start grinning and laughing as he chokes on his drink. He leans an elbow on the table as he coughs, glaring at you through his lashes.

Eren sticks a hand out at you and gestures for you to cough it up. You pull a dollar from your wallet and stuffs it in his hand.

He imagines it’s the same dollar he gave you last week after he joked about your almost hook up. The metaphorical ‘don’t talk about the time we almost had sex’ jar was essentially the same dollar passed back and forth.

‘Was that one worth it?’ He raises an eyebrow at your giggling face as you reaches to open your crunchwrap, nodding in a satisfied manner.

You hold the hexagonal taco in your small hands and Eren chuckles. You eye him, taking your first bite and speaking out a muffled, ‘What?’

‘Your tiny hands always make those things look huge.’

‘Maybe your meaty boy’s hands just make it look small.’

He sticks a hand out in front of you, palm spread out to show the full size, ‘My hands are not meaty. And they’re no bigger than average.’

‘What are you talking about?’ You mirror him, lifting your hand to press a palm against his, the tips of your fingers just brushing above the second knuckle. 

‘Your hands are just tiny.’

‘No, they only look small because yours are huge.’

You both fall silent, two sets of eyes trained on your pressed together hands. Eren ignores the feel of his heart pounding up against his chest.

What was wrong? They’d held hands before? 

The ring of your phone blaring out an alarm drew both of them from the trance. Eren slid his fingers to interlock with your’s, playfully pushing your hand back towards your body.

‘Who’s calling you at this hour?’

‘No one, I, uh, I set an alarm for one thirty am. Otherwise we’d sit here all night, knowing the two of us.’

He lets out a small laugh, nods in agreement and starts to gather up your trash. His eyes run over your face just before standing, choosing not to make fun of the blush gracing your cheeks.

You stand and fall in stride next to him, bumping his hips with your own and poking his side, ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Got your eye on anyone for Jean’s party?’

‘Nah, I’d rather just chill. I’ll probably spend half the night making sure Jean stays relatively sober for his own party.’ You laugh at the idea, nodding your head fervently. Jean usually ended up the messiest of the bunch.

The exit into the cold night air, and your body is immediately taken over with shivers. Eren rolls his eyes but loops an arm around your shoulder, his own body a constant furnace. You hum in appreciation, leaning into his side as he rubs at your arm.

Climbing into the car, he blasts the heat. This time you pull on your seatbelt with no need for prompting, your head turning to stare up at him, the raise of her eyebrows translating to You happy?

He stays quiet, pulling on a cheesy grin that answers back, Very.

You flop back into your seat, a yawn overtaking you and the heat of the car soothing you The effort to keep your eyes open immediately doubled.

‘You can close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we get to your building.’

You look at him with a sorry expression, ‘But I dragged you out I shouldn’t-’

‘Sleep, idiot,’ he cuts you off, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to run over your hair, long fingers running through it. Always a surefire way to make you sleepy.

You drift off quickly, a smile softly laid on your cheeks.

Eren feels his heart beating hard once again. He swallows it down. Focuses on the road. Just friends was easier.

[halloweenhoneylover]

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you. 

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

——— 

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call.  (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously. 

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye. 

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again. 

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

——— 

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings. 

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

——— 

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled. 

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good. 

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence. 

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled. 

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation. 

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Ten

Summary: you finally get to visit the boys at the embassy. You and Javier finally get to consummate the relationship.

W/C: 6k+ (I’m sorry it’s the FINALE I had to)

Warnings: language as always, mentions of injury, SMUT! (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation if you squint, p in v sex, Javier Peña is his own warning when it comes to sex

A/N: YOU GUYS. this is it! I’m so honored that you guys love it as much as you do. This series was originally only supposed to be a oneshot but I just fell in love. I’m so glad I get to share it with you all! BIGGEST thanks to @remmysbounty for being my Colombian culture expert in this and helping me with my spanish phrases, listening to my ramblings, and generally being my editor and idea helper.

previous chapter | epilogue

“Ana, phone for you,” Lorena calls as you walk past the nurses’ station.

You nod, but you’re carrying a tray of medicine for a patient. “Can it wait?” You ask.

Lorena asks the person and then looks back up at you. “He says it’s quick.”

Sighing, you walk behind the desk. “Will you take this tray for me? Room 429,” you ask, and she nods dutifully, walking off with it after handing the phone to you. You answer the phone with your name, sitting in the chair Lorena was just in.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” a familiar southern voice says from the other end. You panic for a moment, wondering why he called you, but his voice seems relaxed. It can’t be anything too bad.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, twirling the phone cord around your finger, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk.

Steve chuckles. “Not much. Just Javi bein’ a dumb fuck.”

“What’s new?” You sigh, but you both know that both of you have affection behind your teasing.

“Exactly,” Steve says in agreement. “Anyway, Javi’s back at work, as you know. The bandage he has is falling off, and he says it’s fine but I know enough from Connie to know that’s not good. She said you get off work soon, would you bring some stuff to the embassy?”

You look at the watch at your wrist. He’s right. You get off at noon, and it’s about 10 right now. “Yeah, of course. Could I bring you guys lunch too? Eat with you?”

There’s a small snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Listen, though, there’s some real shitty guys around here. You’re gonna get hit on and Peña isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“I’ll be wearing scrubs, Steve. What is there to talk about?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Lonely and horny men desperate for an American woman aren’t above much. Just… lettin’ you know now.”

“I think I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can hear it in your tone. “I’ll be there at 12:30 with lunch and supplies for Javi, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Thank you, kid.”

“I’m, like, a few years younger than you. You act like you’re my dad.”

“Whatever,” he laughs and hangs up the phone.

-

After your shift, you enter Valeria’s diner. Her eyes light up as she sees you, rushing your way. “¡Ay, mi hermosita! ¿Quiubo, chiquita?” She asks, grabbing your arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell her genuinely with a smile. “I didn’t know if… the bombing, if it affected you. I’m so glad it didn’t.”

“And me with you! Especially that Javier, dios mio,” she shakes her head.

“Actually...” you chuckle a little. It’s a nervous laugh, afraid to tell her what happened. “Javi was injured. He and his partner were very near the bomb. He’s okay now, but he lost a lot of blood and had to have emergency surgery. He’s got a big scar here,” you tell her and trace along your abdomen where his injury was. “He’s back at work already, but he spent a few days in the hospital and about a week or two at home.”

Valeria frowns. “Oh no. I’m glad he‘s alright now. I worried so much about him, but I figured he lived since there were no American casualties.”

You nod. “Exactly. I’m actually on my way to the embassy now, bringing him some bandages, and I wanted to pick up lunch for him and his partner.”

The woman claps her hands together excitedly. “And here I am, blabbering on! I’ll go get an order in for you. What would you like, dear?”

You put in an order that you figure Javi and Steve would both like, waiting contently at a booth Valeria seats you at and sipping a coffee she brought to you.

The little restaurant makes you smile as you think about the memories. Laughing with Javier for hours in the early morning, sharing life stories and experiences. You realize now that you think you loved Javier even then, on the night when you sat a few booths over, wrapped in his leather jacket while his mustache collected little grains of sugar and cinnamon.

Not long after, Valeria comes to your table with two large bags of food. “I couldn’t help myself- I threw a few extra desserts and snacks in. Javier needs to eat more, tell him that I said that and that’s why there’s so much.”

You laugh happily and stand. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

She takes your payment and hands you a large to-go cup of coffee- you deserve it after such a long shift, she tells you- before sending you on your way. The embassy is a distance away, and you hail a taxi to make your way there. The car fills with the scent of the fresh food, making your stomach rumble. When you arrive, you pay the driver and head inside.

A receptionist sits just inside. “May I help you?” She asks politely and without much interest.

“Uh….” you hadn’t expected this step. “Yes. I’m here for Agents Murphy and Peña?”

She nods, grabbing the phone. She dials a number and talks, making a face of annoyance as she switches to speaking English. She must’ve dialed Steve. She hangs up not long after. “Murphy will be here in a moment,” she tells you with a nod, and you back away to allow the next person to talk with her.

Steve finds you about a minute later. “Hey. That’s a lot of food,” he chuckles as he looks at the large bags you’re carrying.

“I went to Javier’s favorite place. This one waitress there absolutely adores him, so she gave me extra because he doesn’t eat enough,” you inform him with a smile. “She even threw in some free desserts.”

“Jesus. We could feed the whole embassy with those,” he shakes his head, taking one from you to lighten your load.

You walk through hallways and several sets of stairs, before entering the office area and finally reaching the two desks, one messy and one neat. Javier sits at the cluttered one, looking up and eyes lighting as he sees you. “Hey,” he laughs and even dares to smile: a rare sight when he’s at work. “What are you doing here?” He asks, rolling his chair back from his desk and taking your hand.

“Steve said you needed bandages,” you shrug and hold up one of the bags.

He gives him a dirty look and the blonde man simply shrugs, sitting at his own desk.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What’s all this then?” He asks, referring to the bags you and Steve carry.

You set one on a free space in his desk and untie the top of the bag, setting a takeout container in front of him. “Lunch,” you say simply, opening the styrofoam to release a drift of a delicious smell.

Javier sighs at the scent. “Did you see Valeria then? Is that why there’s so much food?” He asks with a little laugh.

You nod. “Exactly.”

Javier sighs and grabs a fork from the bag. “Here,” he says, pulling you to sit on one of his thighs. You squeal at the movement, laughing and grabbing the desk once you’re seated.

“At least warn me, huh?” You laugh and he steals a quick kiss from you, earning a whistle from a man who walks past.

“Wow, Peña has moved on from fucking the informants,” the man chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You both glare at him, though he finds yours more intimidating than Javier’s. “Mm, we’re projecting our sexual frustration, are we?” You ask, taking a bite of food in your mouth with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry about us, run on home to the wife who doesn’t want your dick anywhere near her,” you say with a sweet smile, turning back to Javier’s desk and sipping your coffee.

The man walks away with wide eyes and Murphy laughs genuinely. “Holy shit,” he shakes his head and smiles.

“What? It’s clearly true,” you chuckle, looking back at Javier and taking another bite of the food in front of you. He’s got his heart in his eyes, barely managing to hold back a grin.

“I fucking love you,” Javi laughs contently, waiting you to finish chewing. When you do, he kisses you passionately for a moment, releasing you a few seconds later.

“You got some observational skills, kid,” Steve snorts and shoves a bite of food in his face. “We should get you working here.”

You roll your eyes. “What is your thing with calling everyone kid, Murphy?” Javier laughs, and you nod enthusiastically. You were just about to ask the same thing.

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the phone on Javier’s desk rings. “Peña.” He makes several noises of agreement before hanging up a few moments later. “Trujillo needs something. Be right back,” he tells the both of you and presses a kiss to your head. You stand to allow him to, and he kisses your lips quickly before speed-walking up the steps from the bullpen area and out to somewhere else.

You sit back down and both you and Steve continue eating your food. A minute or so later, a woman walks past but stops as she sees you. “Oh my God, Steve, is this Connie?” she asks, leaning against his desk.

“No, this is Peña’s girlfriend. She and Connie work together,” he informs her. Her face sours at the word girlfriend.

You tell the woman your name and shake her hand with a smile. “Peña has a girlfriend? My god,” she laughs lightly. Javier walks back down to his desk and the woman’s eyes light up. You stand so he can sit again. “Javier Peña, all settled down.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles and sits, pulling you back onto his lap. You squeal again at the sudden movement, more so for the amusement of the woman in front of you. Laughing, you steady yourself on his desk. “Javi, warm a girl!” You chuckle, turning around to kiss him quickly. You’d discovered recently that you couldn’t get enough of it now that you were allowed to do it.

The woman shakes her head and chuckles as she walks away, heels clacking on the tile floor of the embassy.

Steve rolls her eyes. “Ah, Carolina. Last woman at the embassy Javi hasn’t fucked, and she’s been going after him for months.”

“Bullshit,” you and Javier say at the same time, laughing and turning around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Bullshit to the fact that she’s the last woman here I haven’t fucked. Yeah, she’s been all over me,” he admits and nods.

“Well that’s too damn bad for her, isn’t it?” You laugh and offer Javier your cup of coffee.

He takes a swig and sighs. “Goddamn, this stuff tastes good. The coffee here is shit. We really need to do something about that,” he says to Steve, earning a shrug in response as he forks more food into his mouth.

The three of you eat in content silence, Javier keeping one arm wrapped around you as he eats. Steve flips through a file as he munches on his food too.

A couple of minutes later, a stone-faced bald man in army green fatigues walks. He raises an eyebrow as he sees you sitting on Javier’s lap.

You bite the bullet and introduce yourself first, telling him your name and offering a hand to shake. “Javier’s girlfriend.”

Javier chuckles at the man’s confused expression. “Yeah. Ángel, this is Trujillo. We work closely with him and his men. What else do you need?” He asks the man, turning the chair toward him.

“It can wait, I suppose, until after lunch. Wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Trujillo says before walking off.

Javier shakes his head. “Now I see why the two of you can’t get shit done around here,” you tease and kiss the side of Javi’s head with a smile before taking the last bite of your food.

Not long after, the two men finish eating too. You stand from Javi’s desk. “Walk me out?” You ask him softly, and he nods. “I’ll see you later, Steve. Thanks for the invite,” you chuckle, taking Javier’s hand once you’re both standing.

As you walk through the halls, Javier is smiling. It’s a rare occurrence around the embassy, enough to draw stares. You smile proudly, lacing your fingers together as you walk. “So, Superman. I have a proposal,” you offer, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Shoot.”

“You get off work around six?”

“Sure do.”

“And I don’t work tonight.”

Javier chuckles as he looks down at you. “Where is this going, hm?”

You shrug a little. “All I hear about is how good you are in bed. How good of a lover you are,” you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. “Why don’t you prove it to me tonight, hm?” You ask, fingers tracing the seam where his buttons hold his tight shirt together- just barely.

“Oh god, cariño,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if my body is up to it yet, with the incision and-“

“I’m a nurse, Javi. Your nurse. I know medically that you’re stable by now. As long as it isn’t painful for you, we’re safe,” you tell him with a growing smile. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” You ask in a low voice, your hand sliding across the bare ‘v’ of his chest, exposed by his low-cut shirt.

“Yeah, it has.” Javier licks his lips as he looks down at you, a growing smile. “Your place. Sound good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you admit with an excited grin, placing a kiss to his cheek as you reach the door. “You bring the protection,” you murmur next to his ear before kissing him softly on the lips. You break away and smile at his dazed face. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” You tell him and squeeze his hand.

“Fuck, I love you too, ángel,” Javi smiles and kisses your forehead, opening the door for you. “See you then.”

-

Six o’clock rolls around. You know Javier won’t come right from work, but you wait excitedly anyway. You treated yourself to a long hot shower, cleaning up and waiting. You’re dressed in a wrap dress and nothing else, waiting on the couch and trying to distract yourself with reruns of a telenovela. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on your counter.

Surprisingly, a knock comes at your door around 6:15. You shout for them to enter and it’s Javier. “I thought you didn’t get off until 6:00,” you smirk a little as you look at him, closing the door behind himself.

“Steve covered for me. I left at 5, went home and showered, changed bandages and everything,” he chuckles, locking the door.

You smile and stand, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How kind of him,” you chuckle softly, an arm around his waist. “Listen, I thought about it. If you’re still in pain, this can totally wait,” you offer, looking up at him with big and concerned eyes.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you, ángel,” he murmurs, putting both hands on your waist. “Nothing could hold me back now.”

You throw your arms around his neck as Javier’s lips crash against yours, in a deep kiss that wastes no time. You make a soft noise of content against his lips and that spurs him on, his hands roaming all across your body. He breaks away, eyes wild and lips swollen already. “How many times have you cum in one night?” He asks, smirking.

You can’t help but moan in response, kissing him again deeply, your mouth exploring his. He breaks away again. “Answer.”

“Uh… three. On my own. Only once with someone else,” you tell him breathlessly, your brain so wrapped up in him that it’s difficult to think about anything other than him.

“Alright, then four’s the goal,” he chuckles, kissing you deeply and pulling your hips against his. His hands grope your ass and you moan softly.

It’s already the best you’ve ever had and he hasn’t even touched you. The passion and love you have for each other is evident in how deep and intense every little movement is, from the way you drag your nails down the back of his neck to the way he smooths his hands over the curve of your ass, feeling no panties beneath the dress. “Fuck,” he murmurs into your lips.

“My bedroom, please,” you whine, breaking away from him.

He nods, glancing in the direction of the hallway that leads to your room. He catches sight of the bottle of whiskey. “What was that for?” He asks, breathlessly chuckling.

“Confidence,” you admit with a laugh. “Don’t know why I thought I needed it. Not with you.”

“Well, it’ll go perfectly with cuddling in your bed after, hm?” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. You sigh softly at the feeling and he walks you along to your bedroom, backwards, until you feel the backs of your legs pressed against your bed. “Let’s see what’s under here,” he mumbles breathlessly, kissing at your neck as he frantically fumbles to untie the knot around your waist that holds the wrap dress in place. He’s clearly experienced at removing all kinds of clothing, and you can feel your arousal starting to slide down to your upper thighs.

“Javi,” you whimper, and he swears he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“Oh fuck, dulzura,” he shudders at the way you sound, lifting his head and catching your lips in another intense kiss as he slips the dress off of your shoulders and it falls to the floor. “No bra, no panties,” he chuckles as he looks down, finding your exposed body. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He mumbles, his lips trailing from behind your ear to your neck to your collarbone to between your breasts.

“Please,” you whimper and Javier pushes you to lie down on the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees and spreading your legs. “Javi,” you mumble, gripping your breasts.

He looks up at you and swears he could cum in his pants right now, just from the way you look spread out for him. You’re already dripping and he bites his lip as he takes a long look at you. “Fuck, ángel,” he says with a shudder, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “Play with your tits for me,” he commands as he slips the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and the large gauze bandage covering part of his equally muscular abdomen.

You nod, though it doesn’t do much at this angle, and he finally gives in. His last bit of self control leaves his body as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into you at the way you taste. You whimper and your hips squirm softly before Javier brings a large hand up, pinning you down. “Javi… go slow, please,” you murmur. “It’s… been a while.”

He nods. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he breathes out, dark eyes even darker with his widened pupils. He’s just as entranced by you as he was by those heavy drugs in the hospital, his mind foggy from the way you taste. His nose nudges at your clit, causing you to make a soft noise. Javier slips a thick finger inside of you, shuddering at the way your walls flutter around it. “God, that’s gonna feel so good around my dick,” he mumbles, slipping in a second finger and lapping at your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, one hand sliding into that dark hair, gripping it. “I lied. You don’t have to go slow, do whatever you want to me,” you shiver and whine out, bucking your hips up only for Javier’s hand to push them back down.

“Patience,” he mumbles, latching onto your most sensitive spot and sucking on it softly. His fingers push in a little deeper and curve against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, wishing you had him to do it. You knew he would, with his reputation. Of course he would. He already feels like he knows every inch of your body, every sensitive little spot he can stroke to drive you wild. You squeal softly at the movement, your back arching. He smirks but continues, not bothering to stop and comment.

You’re already close, and it’s driving you wild, the other hand clutching at the comforter beneath you. “Not gonna last. Feels so good,” you murmur to him, almost ashamed at how quickly he’s going to make you reach your peak.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he mumbles into you, his eyes closing in concentration as his tongue works hard against your clit.

“Thought about this all the time. My fingers couldn’t get anywhere near as deep as yours, Javi,” you coo, brow furrowing. “Just wanted you inside of me, doing this to me. I thought about it every night since I met you,” you whimper. “Nowhere near as good- fuck, I’m about to-” you groan but it’s cut off as your orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake and your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the word tumbles from your mouth over and over again as it washes over you. After you come down, there’s a delicious oversensitivity inside of you. Javier doesn’t let up. “Javi,” you murmur softly.

“Gonna get another out of you, ángel,” he murmurs for a moment before going back with renewed intensity. You thought it was perfect before, but the way he continues now allows you to feel every bud on his tongue, every line in his fingerprints inside of you, the way his fingers move at slightly different speeds as they drag against that spot deep inside of you.

Only a few moments pass before you’re there again, whining out his name as you feel something warm gush from deep within you. It’s all too good, all too much, feels like an electric wire threaded through your limbs and core. “Javi,” you shudder as you finally come to your senses. “I- uh, did I just-” you say, eyes widening as you see the damp spot beneath you.

“You sure fucking did,” he smirks, removing his fingers from inside of you and sucking on the two slick digits.

“I’ve never done that,” you admit, biting your lip.

“It means I’m doing something right,” he chuckles a little, sitting up to kiss you softly, slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you moan as his tongue probes your mouth ever so gently. “It’s all good, baby. Wanna see if I can make you do that again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. “You were promised four.”

You shudder softly, hands on his shoulders. “I was,” you chuckle with the little oxygen left in your lungs. “What do you say…” you trail off, reaching between the two of you and palming at his denim-covered erection, “I take care of you, you get one more out of me, and then we finally fuck, hm?” you ask, recovering your senses.

“How could I say no to that?” he murmurs, kissing you deeply again. You squeeze softly at the bulge, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “How- I, what do-”

“Lie down up there,” you tell him and nod toward the pillows. When you stand, you tear the comforter off of your bed and toss it aside. “We’ll just have to sleep without that tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are staying the night, right?” You ask, suddenly taken aback.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes down his jeans and boxers and his dick springs free. He’s huge, not overly long but very thick, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a smirk. “Oh, you like this?” he chuckles a little, lying down with his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” you laugh softly, already imagining how he’ll feel inside. “Yeah, I do,” you nod and crawl onto the bed, lying down on your stomach between his spread legs.

You slowly trace a stripe along the underside of him, paying special attention to the frenulum and noticing the way his leg jerks beneath you. Adjusting yourself, you make big eyes up at him as you suck on the head, tracing the tip of your tongue against the little spot. “Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming in seconds,” he laughs breathlessly. “You’re fucking amazing, baby,” he mumbles, his eyes slipping shut at the feeling. “Wait, stop, stop.”

You do exactly that, looking up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Yeah?”

Javier takes a deep breath and smirks. “You can make me cum with your mouth another time. I want this to be about you. Get up here and sit on my face.”

The boldness of his words makes your mouth fall open into a soft o-shape. You’ve certainly never done that before, but the idea is interesting. “It’ll be good, I promise. I already made you cum twice with my mouth, you know that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of your face.

“But…” Javier is much more experienced than you, you know that, so it must be fine, but there’s a little nagging insecurity inside of you. “What if I squirt again and, like, drown you?” you ask shyly.

Javier looks at you for a second before laughing softly. “No, it won’t. Come here, I can prove it to you if you’d like,” he offers, pushing a wisp of your hair back. The fact that you’re less experienced makes him even harder, if that’s physically possible, and you can feel it in your hand. He wants to do this, and that reassures you. You gulp and nod. “That’s my good girl,” Javi mumbles darkly.

You shudder at his words, your skin prickling. He can feel it. “Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He scoots to lie flat on his back on the bed. “Come on up here, baby,” he says softly, and you agree.

You straddle his legs and gradually make your way over his body, careful to lift your hips as you pass over the incision. You’re hovering above his chest, looking down at him with the question in your eyes. “What if I like, crush your head?” You murmur and bite your lip.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” he mumbles, stroking your thigh. “Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes,” you nod shyly. You’re not used to being this open about your wants.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, hands on your hips and pulling you gently. Inviting you onto his waiting lips.

You slide your hips the rest of the way and moan as his tongue finds your clit almost immediately. He moans back, entranced by you already. He puts on a bit more of a show, making loud noises and digging his fingers into your ass. He murmurs something into you but it’s lost in your folds as he lavishes your clit with his attention.

“Okay, I like this,” you admit with a breathless chuckle, moaning at the way his tongue works against you, his mustache tickles you, his nose nudges your clit when his tongue is elsewhere. You’re still hyper-sensitive from earlier, and you can tell. Your orgasm approaches rapidly, faster than it has ever before. You fall slightly forward, bracing yourself against the headboard as the tingling sensation builds.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, panting heavily, your hands gripping the headboard tight. He makes a noise of approval and the vibrations from it cause you to let go, practically wailing his name. Your toes curl in pleasure, whimpering as it pulses through your body. It leaks from you before you can notice it, squirting into Javier’s mouth. He swallows every last bit of it, moaning at the way you taste.

Javier’s been so patient with you, putting everything about you first. He continues to eat you out as you come down from it. Eventually, you lift your hips, kneeling with your still-dripping pussy over his face. “You gonna fuck me now?” you ask, barely any air in your voice.

“Oh God yeah,” he chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your clit before pushing you over to lie next to him.

“Javi!” You squeal out with a laugh, falling next to him, his face by your legs. You’re giggling as you look over at him, hands on your bare stomach. “What if I would’ve landed on you and hit the incision?” you chide, though you both know it’s joking.

“It’d be worth it,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee. He stands with a groan, cracking his neck and grabbing the condom from the pocket of his jeans. He opens it and rolls it over his leaking dick, and you smirk as you look at it, adjusting yourself back where he was lying.

“You sure this’ll be okay with the abs?” you ask him as he walks back to your side, your fingers ghosting over the gauze-covered incision.

He nods. “Yeah. You ready?” He asks, a hand cupping your face to look up at him.

“I’m waiting on the fourth,” you tease, giving his dick a gentle tug and earning a groan. “Now get on top of me and fuck me, Superman,” you say with a seductive smile, licking your lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles softly, propping his arms up on either side of you and nestling his hips between your legs. You can feel his dick pressing against your folds, and you grind your hips up into his. He moans, shivering hard. “Oh fuck. You better know it’s not gonna take long,” he tells you. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this for so long. First time I saw those tits bouncing on the treadmill, your ass when you were doing those squats,” he admits, hand running up your side and pinching a nipple as he finally admires your bare body beneath him.

“Get poetic later, get inside me now,” you beg of him, leaning up and kissing him deeply. He paws at a tit and you whine into his lips, harder when he rolls a nipple between two fingers. “Don’t tease,” you plead, spreading your legs wider.

He finally slides in and swears he’s seeing stars from the second the head is past your entrance. He groans out before he can stop himself, and you involuntarily make a matching sound. “Javier,” you cry, the way he stretches you making your already dripping pussy even wetter.

He nods. “Yeah baby,” he mumbles next to your ear.

“Start moving, I’m ready, come on,” you urge, nipping at his earlobe that dangles just above your lips. He shivers at the feeling and nods, pulling out and pushing back in. The first thrust and he’s already holding back.

He moans your name quietly, starting a slow but steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you. He looks down and bites his lip as he sees the way your tits jiggle with his thrusts. “Oh, ángel,” he groans. You bend up and kiss at his neck, daring to work a mark into the skin. “Yeah, that’s my girl, marking me up. Want that girl at the embassy to see it when I’m at work tomorrow, don’t you?” he grunts, breathing heavily already.

“All mine, no one else’s.”

“All yours, baby,” he nods, thrusting harder. “Give ‘em something to talk about, mark me up,” he groans, his eyes almost rolling back in his head from the feeling. You nod, leaving love bites and hickeys all over the smooth skin of his neck, the skin that smells like aftershave and soap and cigarettes and his sweat.

He reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs circles into your clit in time with the thrusts. “Oh, fuck do I love you, baby,” he groans. “You gonna come again?”

You’re embarrassingly close already, and the fact that he can tell is even hotter. “Yeah,” you whine into the thick column of his neck.

“Good girl, gonna squirt around me?”

“Yeah,” you whimper again, hips grinding against his hand. “Love you so much, Javi.”

“Love you too. Go for it, baby. Do it,” he asks of you, and who are you to deny him of the sensation in the moment? You stop holding back, your walls fluttering around him and your pussy leaking as your whole body tenses.

“Javi,” you cry into his ear, clinging to the back of his head and pulling him down to where you’re now lying flat, limp as a rag doll from his ministrations.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in his gravelly voice, biting down on his lip. “So good, fuck, love you baby,” he grunts in time with sporadic thrusts as he finally spills into the condom, an animalistic cry coming from his throat.

His thrusts slow and he gradually pulls out of you, lying down and pulling you into his side. “Would you believe me if I said that’s the best I’ve ever had?” He pants out, kissing the side of your head.

You drape an arm across him. “It’d be an honor,” you chuckle softly.

“It was,” he tells you honestly, this time kissing your lips. “God, I fucking love you,” he tells you with a dazed smile, eyes slipping shut.

He’s so sexy like this, sweat beaded on his forehead and dark hair stuck to it. He’s fucking beautiful is what he is, like a work of art with those swollen lips and the developing bruises on his neck. He’s your personal masterpiece. You’ve done all of those things to him, made him fill that condom, hell, you put those stitches in yourself before he left the hospital. He’s fully and truly yours. “I love you too, Javi,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a smile as your eyes water.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks quickly as his eyes open.

“I just love you so much,” you admit with a watery voice. “That was the best I’ve ever felt, and you let me ask stupid questions, and you did this all even though I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms a couple of weeks ago.” You bury your face where his chest meets his arm, the tears freely running.

“Ángel,” he coos and kisses your head. “You are the entire world, you know that? You saved my fucking life, not just from the shrapnel. I would’ve drank and smoked and worked myself to death if you didn’t come in.”

“And I would’ve died from that cold,” you add with a weak giggle.

“And you would’ve died from that cold,” he chuckles and lifts your head. “I love you so much. No solo como te quiero, como te amo.”

There’s a difference in the way Spanish speakers say “I love you” that native English speakers cannot understand. We say I love you to our dogs, to our partners, to our sisters and parents and to our lovers and spouses. It’s all the same way to say it: I love you. In Spanish, there is te quiero and te amo. Javier might say te quiero to his father, to Connie when she brings him food during a rough hangover. Never in his life has the man said te amo and meant it. Not to Lorraine, not to any girl he ever held in his arms as he pounded her senseless. Never, except to you.

And you can feel it in the way he presses a tender kiss to your face, in the way a tear drips from his eye and onto your forehead. He loves you in the way that inspired the greatest artists to write sonnets and plays and make beautiful art, the way that Escobar would do anything, would kill for his beloved Tata, the way Romeo and Juliet loved and fell hard and didn’t care about the repercussions and died for love of each other.

“Javi,” you coo, looking into his big brown eyes that are brimming with tears. “Te amo también, te amo, y nunca lo olvides.”

thanks for reading!

-

translations:

quiubo- what’s happening, what’s up

Chiquita- girl, girlfriend

dulzura- sweetheart

Y nunca lo olvides- and don’t you ever forget it.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @apascalrascal @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging @pedro-pastel @notabotiswear @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

[katblu42]

Bandit

Remember the whump generator wheel?  I decided I would spin it 5 times to give myself a prompt pairing for each brother.  Some of the pairings have prompted rather un-whumpy ideas!  This is the first result.

I need to say that I have no experience with these creatures, and no knowledge of housing construction (and a tendency to get very frustrated with researching stuff very quickly), so I apologise for any inaccuracies in those departments.

Gordon, Help Eating and Vent

It turns out to be fluff instead of whump, and I realise it may not exactly address the intended idea of help eating, but . . . here it is anyway!

At first he thought he was imagining it, but over the course of the last hour the little scratching noises had increased.  It was distracting him from his homework.  Something was inside his bedroom wall, he was sure of it.  Gordon wondered whether he should tell one of his brothers.  More specifically one of his older brothers.  Telling Alan would only get the kid excited and make rescuing whatever animal was stuck in the wall more difficult.

Scratch.  Scuffle, scratch, scrabble, scratch.

As quietly as he could, he slid the chair back from his desk, tip-toed to the wall and pressed his ear against it.  Nothing. He almost gave up, thinking perhaps whatever it was had gone somewhere else, or fallen asleep, then he heard a quiet swooshy movement – the kind his hand might make if he brushed it against the wall.  Scratch, scratch.  It was close now.  Low down, near the floor.  His eyes swept along the skirting board until he spotted the vent on the other side of his desk.

Hmm.  If he could get the vent open maybe he could spot the animal stuck in the wall and maybe even get it out.  On close inspection of the 8” by 6” vent cover he could see it was attached to the wall with 4 small screws.  He’d need tools.  And maybe snacks to encourage the animal to come out.  And maybe a box or something to put the creature in until he could relocate it outside.  Yep, he had a plan.  He darted out of the room to collect the items he needed.

Wham!  He darted straight into Virgil.

“Whoa!  Where’s the fire?”  Virgil caught hold of him by the shoulders, steadying him and making sure he was not about to hurt himself after bouncing off his bigger brother’s chest.

“Ooof!  Sorry, Virg.”  Gordon spoke almost at the same time, made sure his feet were solidly planted again and shrugged away from Virgil’s grip.  Curiosity and concern burned down at him from beneath raised eyebrows. He felt his own eyes betray him as he glanced back towards his room and back up to meet his brother’s gaze.

“What are you hiding in there?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Gordon put his hand over his heart. “It’s just . . . there’s a . . . I was just going to . . .”  He sighed – a physical thing involving his whole body – and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor for a moment.  When he finally looked back up at Virgil the familiar expression of patient calm he found there gave him the encouragement he needed.  “I think there’s an animal stuck in my wall and I need to get some stuff so I can see if I can rescue it.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. That was all it took.  Gordon knew he had an ally.  He showed Virgil the vent he wanted to open, described the noises he’d heard and waited impatiently with his bigger brother until they both heard the noises again.  Virgil agreed to help him open the vent, suggesting a box to catch the animal in was a must, but perhaps they should hold off on the snacks until they discovered what type of animal it was and therefore what it might eat, and whether it needed coaxing out of the wall space.

While Virgil went to collect the right type of screwdriver and a couple of other tools (just in case), Gordon prepared a makeshift animal carry box.  He dumped the dirty laundry out of the plastic laundry bin from the corner of his room.  Its sides were a kind of latticework that would ensure the animal could still breath when he placed the lid on top.  He lined the bottom of the bin with a few towels so the creature would be comfy.

Virgil returned with the tools and a flashlight.  Together they moved Gordon’s desk so they had more room to work around the vent. Virgil made short work of the removal of the first 2 screws.

“Get ready with that nest of yours, Gordon,” he said as he lined up the screwdriver on the third screw. “Hold it close to the wall, below the vent, just in case the cover swings loose and the animal makes a run for it.”

It was at that moment Gordon remembered Virgil had a fairly strong dislike of rats and mice.  The expression of grim determination on his brother’s face suggesting he was forcing himself to continue his task despite the fear made Gordon feel kind of proud of him.

The third screw was removed, but the vent cover stayed firmly in place.  Virgil moved on to the last screw and Gordon kept the re-purposed laundry bin in place. This last one proved difficult to remove, rusted in place. With a grunt from Virgil and a slight cracking sound the screw finally began to move, and within a few turns of the screwdriver was moving more freely.  Once all the screws were out Virgil had to use a flat bladed driver to prise the top of the vent cover free from the wall.  Before removing it all the way he glanced at his younger brother, who nodded in confirmation that he was ready.  The cover came off the vent and . . . nothing happened.

Gordon let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and put the laundry basket nest down. The sudden release of tension in Virgil’s shoulders indicated his brother probably felt much the same way as he put the vent cover down, resting it against the wall.

“Let’s take a look,” Virgil suggested as he reached for the flashlight.  “See if we can see who’s in here, or something to show us what we might be dealing with.”

Gordon inched himself closer so he could see inside the vent as Virgil clicked on the flashlight and aimed it into the darkness.  The beam of light illuminated a small section of flexible ducting before it curved upward. Both brothers felt a little deflated at this result until they heard the scuffling noise close by.  Remaining silent and keeping the flashlight beam steady, they waited and were rewarded by the sudden appearance of a pair of eyes glowing back at them from a black, white and grey banded furry face.

“It’s a racoon,” Virgil stated with an audible sigh of relief.  “It must have made a hole in the ducting there near the bend, look.”

As the little furry head disappeared again Gordon could just make out the ragged edges of the hole Virgil was trying to catch in the flashlight beam.  A frown creased his forehead as his attention turned to how they were going to get the little guy out.

“What are you thinking, Gordon?”

“Do you think Alan’s small enough to crawl in there and rescue Bandit?”

The look of horrified surprise on his big brother’s face, which quickly flickered through a glare in response to Gordon’s mischievous smile, before settling on mild confusion greatly amused the younger boy.

“You named the racoon Bandit?”

“Yep.”

“And you know Alan wouldn’t fit in there, and even if he did we would not be sending him in there after a wild animal.”  Virgil’s eye roll and head shake just amused Gordon more.

“I know, but it’s fun to see the faces you make when you think I’m being serious.”

“Ha ha.”  Virgil turned off the flashlight and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, sitting back on his heels.  “We’re gonna need to figure out how to get this little guy – Bandit – out of there, and we’re gonna need to tell Dad about this.”

“We do?  Why?”

“Because Bandit is only a kit and that means his mom and the rest of his family could be in the house somewhere, probably in the attic.”

“Awww.”  Gordon’s features scrunched into his that’s-so-cute face.  “Mumma racoon’s missing one of her babies.  We gotta get Bandit back to his family.”

“We have to get him out here first, Squid.”

“Snack time!”  Gordon stood up and was two steps towards the door faster than Virgil could react, then he suddenly stopped and turned back. “What do baby racoons eat?”

Neither brother knew the answer to that question, so a quick internet search was carried out.  A trip to the kitchen was made and Gordon returned with two pairs of rubber gloves – because racoons can carry rabies and it’s best to be as safe as possible – an old baby bottle with a little milk in it and a few different fruits and nuts.  They didn’t know whether Bandit had teeth yet or not, so the kit might not be ready for solid foods, but they also weren’t sure if cow’s milk would be suitable for a baby racoon.

The first attempt at coaxing Bandit out of the vent involved placing a few berries and nuts as far into the ducting as Virgil could reach with the aim of attracting the little racoon and then luring it out with a trail of food.  After a few minutes of waiting the scratching, scuffling noises were heard, a little black nose appeared through the hole in the ducting . . . then disappeared again.

Ten more minutes of waiting and no further activity passed before Gordon decided they should try some banana. He took prime position kneeling on the floor in front of the vent. Virgil moved over beside him aiming the flashlight, and holding the laundry bin nest at the ready.  Gordon held a few pieces of smooshy banana in his gloved fingertips and slowly stretched his arm as far into the vent as he could reach.  With his arm and the flashlight taking up most of the available opening he had to press his face up near the vent and look through one eye in order to see inside.

The two boys waited silently, listening for the tell-tale noises of movement within the wall cavity. It wasn’t long before Bandit made another appearance, the little black nose twitching as the kit cautiously emerged through the hole and tentatively advanced toward Gordon’s hand.  Gordon spoke words of encouragement to Bandit and tried to make coaxing “racoon noises”.

“Come on, that’s it.” He made a few squeaky sucking noises through his teeth.  “Come get some yummy banana.”

The coaxing noises gave way to sounds Virgil recognised as Gordon’s too-excited-by-the-cute-animal-for-real-words vocalisations as Bandit began licking at Gordon’s gloved fingertips and making vocalisations of its own.  Each time the kit stopped licking Gordon inched his hand a little nearer to the exit of the vent and Bandit followed, drawn by the tantalising promise of more of the tasty fruit.  Bandit’s little paws tried to grab onto Gordon’s fingers, perhaps to stop them moving away, but the gradual progress towards the vent continued.

When Gordon had withdrawn his arm far enough for them to be able to see without the flashlight Virgil turned his attention to the prospect of containing the little critter.  He broke off a little more of the banana and placed it on the towels inside the laundry bin to encourage the kit inside.  Gordon was talking to Bandit again, softly, soothing, encouraging the kit to keep edging closer to the edge.  His hand was all the way out now, held just in front of the opening and Bandit’s head was tentatively peeking out into the room. The little nose still twitched, the tiny paws kept reaching out to hold fingers or bits of mushy banana.  Ever so slowly Gordon moved his other hand into position above the vent and while Bandit was busily focusing on the banana smeared hand he gently took hold of the kit and lifted him out.  Moving both hands in tandem, and with Virgil bringing the laundry bin close, Bandit was quickly transferred into the little nest. Gordon kept the hand with the food close to Bandit, moving it towards the banana pieces Virgil had placed in there. Soon Bandit was holding a piece of fruit in tiny paws and Gordon withdrew his hand altogether.

Making sure Bandit was as comfortable as possible the boys placed the lid firmly on the laundry bin, and shared a high five.  Now they just had to remove the fruit and nuts from the ducting, replace the vent cover, clean up the mess they’d made in Gordon’s room, tell their Dad about Bandit and the potential family of racoons somewhere in the house, reunite Bandit with the rest of the family and safely re-home all the racoons.  Should be easy, right?

[shining-red-diamond]

Ch. 2

Words: 2.4k

Pairing: NCT Misfit Unit x OCs

Genre: Fluff, angst, suggestive, mystery!AU

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of poisoning, death, light alcohol consumption

“There was a what at the ring?!” Taeyong panicked loudly, causing Savannah to nearly drop her spoon as she ate her yogurt.

She hadn’t realized the news was on as she was busy eating her breakfast and preparing some interview questions. The reporter on the screen was covering a story about an underground fighting area that had become a crime scene after a fighter “mysteriously froze all of a sudden before collapsing to his death.” Behind her was the abandoned nightclub and the same yellow tape blocking off the general public.

“Oh, that,” Savannah sighed as she smacked her forehead. “I meant to tell you, but I was exhausted from it all.”

Taeyong could never get angry with her. As much as he wished she would have told him what had happened, he understood the emotional trauma of witnessing a tragedy like that. Although part of his job as a fireman was to get civilians to safety, not everyone is lucky enough to make it out alive; and just having to deliver the bad news to the families who lost loved ones is heartbreaking enough.

A sigh escaped his lips as he massaged his temples. “Savannah, this is why I don’t like when you go into the field for things like this,” he explained in a softer tone.

“Honey, I wasn’t hurt,” his wife defended herself. “I know you worry about me, but I’ve taken self defense classes. And you were the one who got me pepper spray.”

Taeyong couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Still,” he sighed. “It just scares me that I could lose you when you’re by yourself.”

“Hey, I get nervous, too, but I have more chances of survival in certain situations.”

“Well, I still want you to call for help when you need it, whether that’d be me or emergency services. Promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

Taeyong kissed her goodbye one more time before grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

“...The wrestler’s autopsy report states that he passed away of cyanide poisoning,” the news anchor reported. “Medical examiners found large amounts of the toxin in his bloodstream, and concluded the fighter had consumed it minutes before he died.”

“Cyanide,” Savannah repeated.

She quickly jotted bullet points of everything she knew so far:

Hendery saw someone strange

Jeno had a weird phone call about someone (girlfriend?) and left the scene. Nervous about something(?)

Wrecker was poisoned with cyanide. How?

Now, she hoped Johnny would have some answers for her. Savannah wasn’t expecting to solve this mystery right away, but she had a start.

After checking the time, she grabbed her keys and her purse, turned off the TV, and then headed out the door.

-

The drive to the gym was about five minutes as Taeyong often worked out there when he wasn’t on duty. It was in a joint building with a pizza parlor and a dry cleaning service. The Iron Bell’s sign displayed a red dumbbell logo with lettering in a sort of punk cooper black font.

“It’s always the gyms who have the loudest signs,” Savannah chuckled as she walked into the building.

The interior of the gym was pretty nice to Savannah’s surprise, and it was much larger than she expected. The walls were a bright shade of crimson with multiple TVs showing multiple channels and lined up near the ceiling. On one side of the gym were your typical ellipticals, treadmills, and weight equipment; but on the other side of the gym was a large, fenced-in octagon mat used for MMA practice or whatever type of defense/offence practice. Two men, YangYang and the medic boy from the fight, were busy practicing defense moves, and a few people were making use of the machines.

Savannah took note of her neighbor Mark Lee taking advantage of the available weight set as his fiancée Alice Gilmore, a coworker of hers, was busy jogging on one of the treadmills, her blonde ponytail swishing with each step.

“Hey, Sav!” he greeted as he finished a set of reps. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Mark, Alice,” she smiled. “I’m here to see Johnny Suh. Is he here?”

“I think he’s in his office,” Alice replied, out of breath as she slowed down her treadmill speed. “It’s behind the wrestling mat.”

“Thank you,” Savannah nodded as she headed towards the office door, which she now saw labeled in white as “MANAGER.”

With three knocks, she heard a voice say, “It’s open.”

Savannah carefully pushed the door open to find who she was looking for sitting at a desk and on the phone with someone. The office itself wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was organized. The shelf displayed a few awards for the gym, and a few pictures of a familiar young boy with blond hair and a bright smile around six or seven years old. Her coworker Sierra had pictures of the same child on her desk at the newspaper office. Then, it hit her: Johnny was Sierra’s husband, and he was the boy’s stepdad.

“Alright, baby,” he said as he smiled, and Savannah guessed he was talking to his wife. “I’ll pick up Alex for his doctor’s appointment. Hey, I’ve got to go. Savannah’s here...I love you, too...Bye.”

He hung up and stood to greet the journalist who just entered his office.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized as he held out a hand. “I didn’t quite catch your name when we spoke last night.”

“I’m Savannah Nguyen, Mr. Suh,” she introduced herself as she shook his hand.

“Please, call me Johnny,” he scoffed lightly. “We go by a first name basis here, Savannah. Have a seat.” He motioned to a leather seat that was covered with duct tape. Clearly, it had seen better days; but it held Savannah up fine.

“My wife mentioned you two were coworkers,” he continued. “I thought your last name was Lee.”

“Legally, yes,” Savannah nodded as she fished out her notebook from her purse. “I married my husband about a year and a half ago.”

“Oh, yeah! The firechief Lee Taeyong.”

“That would be him.”

“Then, why are you still going by your other name?”

“My editor suggested I use my maiden name for my stories. Nguyen is more of a pen name of sorts.”

Johnny just nodded.

“Anyway, we’re not here to talk about marital statuses,” Savannah changed the subject. “I managed to catch you after the fight, but then the whole fiasco had everyone shaken up. And if you saw the news this morning, his autopsy came back as death by cyanide poisoning. So, could you tell me about anything that might have happened leading up to the murder?”

“Nothing too out of the ordinary that I noticed,” Johnny shrugged as he thought about it.

“No strange people? Or any snacks that could have been tainted?”

“We get all kinds of people who come to the fights, so anyone could have taken out Wrecker.”

“Pretty much.”

Savannah then showed him the notes she had.

“It’s not much, but it’s all I have so far.”

Johnny’s brow furrowed as he read what was in front of him.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I did notice that Jeno had disappeared, but I wasn’t sure where.”

“My best guess is that he has some sort of female acquaintance in the hospital, but since he works with Taeyong, I’m told the girl in question is his girlfriend.”

“Probably,” Johnny agreed. “I’ve seen her. Really pretty girl. He would bring her when he had a fight, but she hasn’t been coming the past few months. We asked about her a few times, and Jeno said she was fine. The conversation never went further than that, though, so we figured it was none of our business really.”

Taeyong’s hunch had been confirmed, however, the question of what exactly was going on with her was still in the air. Savannah knew she would have to talk to Jeno to get the full story, but she hated feeling that there was something off about the situation.

She took the notebook back from the gym’s manager and wrote down some new notes.

“Do you know if Wrecker had any enemies?” she continued her interview.

Johnny laughed a little. “Wrecker had beef with everyone,” he scoffed. “But enough to end his life? Not that I know of.”

“Well, the guy named Hendery said he saw someone run from the scene.”

“Who?”

“He wasn’t sure. All he saw was a person of medium height in a dark coat and fedora. He couldn't tell if they were male or female.”

Johnny clicked his tongue and nodded. “Okay, that is a little weird. Come to think of it” -he sat up a little straighter and rubbed his chin- “I did see Wrecker drink something before he went on, and it wasn’t in his usual bottle he aggressively drinks from.”

Savannah paused for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“It was some small paper cup thing, but I don’t know if you’d want to go digging in the garbage for it.”

Savannah just nodded and wrote down more of what he said. “Well, I think that’s gonna cover it for now,” she said as she put her notebook back into her purse. “Thanks for meeting with me, Johnny.”

“No problem, Savannah,” he smiled as he showed her to the door. “And if you want some more people to talk to, Brittany has had some business dealings with Wrecker a while back. If you wanna find her she works at Jessi’s. I’m not sure if she’s working today, but it’s a great place if you want a margarita.”

“Noted.”

With the new information in hand, Savannah decided to go pay a visit after work.

-

Taeyong drove his wife to the bar in case she decided to have a drink, so he would pick her up after he ran some errands. Jessi’s wasn’t too far from their house, and many of the people she had worked with always recommended it due to the great drinks, food, and the owners and employees were super friendly and sociable. The outside of the bar seemed like your normal restaurant on the outside with the neon sign of the name written in an elaborate sort of cursive and bright colors. As soon as one walked in, they were met with what looked like a mix of a cool lounge decorated with black, gold, and platinum records. The main dining area’s furniture were white chairs, and the tables were the cleanest looking silver Savannah had ever seen. Even the dark-wooden floor was spotless. A few posters of the singer were the centerpiece on each wall, and two TVs hung on the bar wall above the drink mixes.

Savannah was almost in shock at how creative such a bar was put together.

“Hi, Savannah,” Brittany smiled enthusiastically, her name tag reflecting off of the late afternoon sunlight that peaked in. “Have a seat.”

Snapping out of her daze, the journalist did as she was asked and set her purse on the wooden bar.

“What can I get for you? A Manhattan? Whiskey sour? Or are you a beer gal?”

“Do you have any Mojito?” Savannah requested.

“Oooo, Hemingway’s alleged fave. Would you like vodka or tequila with it?”

“Tequila, please.”

Brittany immediately got to work. She began slicing a lime into four wedges and put them into a glass. Some sugar was scooped up and poured into the glass before Brittany muddled it all down to a mix. She then took some mint into her palm, gave it a firm spank, and then added it to the drink. After giving the mix one more gentle muddle, she poured in some crushed ice about halfway up before adding the tequila and stirring it. After one more small scoop of ice and an adding of some club soda, Brittany topped it off by rubbing some mint leaves along the rim and using it as a drink topper.

“Here you go,” she said, proud of her work once she added a slim black straw.

“Thanks. So, Jessi really owns this place?” Savannah asked once she took a sip of her extravagant looking drink. “Wow! That’s good.”

“The one and only,” Brittany nodded as she wiped down where she had prepared the beverage. “And she has joint ownership with Hyuna, who owns the Red Lounge with her husband Dawn.”

“My husband and I have been there. Great environment like this one.”

“Oh, absolutely! Hold on, let me handle these guys, and I’ll get back to you.”

Two men in suits had entered, and Brittany was quick to fix them their Bloody Mary and Alice. Savannah studied her body language and the way she spoke with them and two other guests who walked in. Brittany always had a smile, her high-pitched voice was always warm and welcoming, and she made sure the guests were served and relaxed with their orders. She could be ruled out as a suspect, but Savannah still wanted to make sure in order to narrow down the list.

“You’re so talented at this,” Savannah applauded when she returned. “Do you also entertain in the evenings with the drinks? Like tricks with shot glasses?”

“Thanks,” Brittany giggled as she mixed and served a Mimosa for a woman sitting at the other end of the bar. “And no. Hendery does all of the fancy tricks. I just mix and pour. Plus, I only do the day shifts.”

“I see.”

Savannah pulled her notebook out as she took another sip of her drink.

“Anyway,” she began, “Johnny mentioned that you had some business with Wrecker a while back.”

“Oh, that,” Brittany rolled her eyes. “Well, he had borrowed money from me because he needed a flat on his truck fixed; but he had failed to pay me back. So, I confronted him about it before the fight on the night he was killed.”

“Did either of you threaten the other?”

“I didn’t threaten him,” Brittany defended herself, “but he did say something about ‘watching my back.’ Honestly, the fighters there give empty threats most of the time; so I wasn’t too worried.”

Empty threats? Savannah thought. She did see how the other fighters protected each other in that makeshift arena, so Brittany did have something of a point.

“And everyone knows I carry pepper spray, so Wrecker would’ve had to get his eyes flushed out if he tried anything.”

“I see.”

“Cyanide poisoning,” Brittany repeated the news report. She must have seen it that morning, as well. “We were thinking he had some sort of poisonous dart shot at him. Nobody heard gunshots.”

“Wrecker was poisoned for sure, but I spoke with Johnny. He thinks he ingested it through a drink of some sort.”

“Weird.”

Savannah nodded and sipped her drink.

[faythelyse]

Joji x Reader {female reader} Apocalyptic Setting <Part One>

The sound of your closest friends baby jolts you awake. You had fallen asleep sitting up in a chair near the window. You stand and stretch for a moment before walking into the kitchen. Jessica meets you at the doorway to the kitchen.

"We're officially out of food." She bounces her daughter on her knee.

"Alright, I'll grab Ashlee and we can hit that up this place we noticed coming back from our last haul. It looked like a department store or something. I have an extra cheese stick in my bag if Jade is hungry."

Jessica knods and sighs. You knew saving that cheese stick was a good call. After grabbing the snack for Jade you head to the garage where Ashlee was working on the truck we scored a few months ago. Ashlee notices you enter and slams her hand on the top. "We still need some gas for this bad boy!"

"No time like the present to go look for some?!" You add expecting a negative response.

Ashlees face turned sour. "We're out of food."

"Yep. You going."

"Well of course, but we just went on a trip 3 days ago. Those rations were supposed to last a week. Jess eats like a fucking pig." Ashlee starts throwing her gloves off onto the desk and prepares a bag for the emergency food trip we are underprepared for in all honesty.

"How much ammo do we have left?"

Ashlee sighs heavily "We were low last trip. We might have 5 or 6 shells left for the shotgun."

"And the handgun?" You interject.

"Fifteen." Ashlee finishes packing up leaving the shotgun for me to take. "I'm gonna take a smoke break. Meet me out front when your ready to roll." She puts the cigarette in her mouth and walks out.

Grabbing the gun you quickly head for your room to gather the essentials. Outside Ashlee was taking the last drag off her cigarette before flicking it to the road. I stare at the bikes in front of us wishing we had gas for the truck. "Jesus christ I hate these bikes, I'm wore out by the time we get to wherever we're going." Ashlee smiles. "Soon Y/N" Ashlee closes her eyes and daydreams for a moment. Imagining life with a car again.

About halfway there we stop and scout a bit. Make sure no one is out and about before we pull closer into this town.

Right on the edge of town we leave our bikes locked to a tree behind a small abandoned house. It was a soft pink color. It somewhat stood out making it easier to remember where we left our things. We chat quietly while making our way to a large department store.

The store was huge. The sign had fallen partially. A corner of the building was also caving in. Jessica, never going out on many supply trips didn't always realize the danger she put Ashlee and I in on a somewhat regular basis. Although we have become better at it over time.

As we arrived at the doors we became silent. Searching for any possible noises or animals that could get us in worse trouble than we were already putting ourselves in. Instead of going in through the front we found a side door that appeared quieter to open. Upon entering we were stunned to see lots of stuff still on the shelves. Why had this store not been hit so badly by looters. Shocked by the nostalgia and childlike joy we let our gaurd down. We casually walked down aisles and shared past memories that seemed insignificant then. We would give anything to be able to visit a store normally again. Buy a new dress to wear for date night or some shit.

"Holy shit, they have mother fucking WINE!!!"

Ashlee was almost in tears, and I couldn't contain my smile. We packed as many as we could. We still needed room for actual food.

Just then we both heard a single gunshot so we dropped immediately to the floor as quickly as possible. Readying our guns we slowly get up and sneak closer to the back of the store where the gun had fired. There is a hallway that leads back to the bathrooms and what I assume might be the head office or the workers lounge area. We see a shadow at first emerging from the hallway. We aim thinking it could be one of the infected, but it was just a man. He pulled out a walkie telling someone on the other end he's fine. Ashlee and I are frozen for a minute. We hadn't seen people in a long time. Hell it's even been awhile since we've seen an infected. They have been sparce lately. Probably just spreading out more. Although we weren't a very populated area anyway. Ashlee whispers "What do we do, ignore them?" I shrug not knowing myself. It would be risky to assume they are friendly. And if they were to rob us we would be left with nothing. Another man runs up, he has a large backpack on. Ashlee and I locked eyes for a moment. We had the same idea to potentially rob this man. I shake my head. "Maybe they will trade?" I whisper.

Ashlee shakes her head in disbelief that they would consider trading. We had not glanced back at the men for a minute, when we turned back to check on them they were gone. I turn back and shrug, if they were gone then we had no further issue. Ashlee and I nod knowing we should get a move on and wrap this up before we get spotted. While crouching we slowly walk around the nearest aisle where we are met face to face with the two men we had just spotted. Both shocked we all immediately stand, but none of us draw a weapon. After a solid 30 seconds of no speaking just staring I speak up

" We really just need to grab some food, we won't be any trouble." It was then that I noticed one of them was injured.

"You're hurt?" I said softly. Ashlee also softened her expression when she noticed the wound. Ashlee broke her silence as well, "Y/N is a healer of sorts, maybe we can help."

Ashlee and I are both suckers for wanting to help. The man with big sad brown eyes looked at me with some hope.

"Can you really hel-ehp" he stopped abruptly and grabbed the wound on his side that started to soak through his thick green coat. I couldn't tell the severity of it, I didn't want him to die though, so in the moment I just decided to say yes. His friend went alongside him to help support him. "My name is Ben" He proceeded to shake Ashlees hand and then my own. "This is George, nice to meet you. We were here looking for medical supplies, if you could help us out we would pay you back some how. Whatever you need, I promise. We'll work it off."

"I'm not a real doctor or anything man. I just started learning this stuff since the world went to shit. I've practiced on dogs, and cats, a few humans. Nothing too crazy. I've become pretty decent at sew up jobs. I just promise to do my best to help. If something goes wrong I just cant have you blaming me."

Ben smiled "Listen, its not like im going to find some heart surgeon out here. Anything you can do to help is better than whatever I could come up with."

Ashlee walks up to the other side of George and throws his arm over her neck. "I'll help walk him to the bikes."

I nod and quickly grab everything i can that is edible, even found a few seed packets. Elena will be stoked to add these to her garden.

We biked back to our little community that cosisted of 2 houses that have been conjoined by fencing in the two. Its somewhat protected by being hidden in the many trees that surround our community.

Jessica was sitting smoking outside. As she saw us pull up with two strangers she looked worried. I held up my hand to show her everything was okay and waved. We brought George in and laid him in a spare room we had set up for me to work on anyone who had been hurt. There was no bed, only a futon mattress had been laid on the floor.

"Set him down gently." Ben whispered.

Ashlee had a worried expression, I could tell she was worried about the blood loss. He appeared paler than before. I sat down and started preparing my equipment as fast as possible and urged Ashlee to grab some other things I needed.

As I neared being finished with sterilizing the needle I told everyone to leave the room. I can never concentrate while people watch. I had assumed George was knocked out when I reached down to start removing his jacket he grabbed my wrist.

"This is going to fucking hurt isn't it." He breathed. I nodded. I had nothing to numb him. Then I remembered the extra wine Ashlee and I had discovered. We had grabbed six bottles. I pulled out a bottle and handed it to George. He glanced it over.

"For the pain?"

"For the pain." I said as took it back from him to open it. After opening I asked if he would like a cup.

"Bottles fine, lets get this over with." He started to shrug off his jacket exposing the large gash on his side. Hopefully he hadn't punctured an organ or something I couldn't fix.

He took 3 large drinks and motioned for me to come to him. I started cleaning the wound to the best of my ability with what we had. It was time to start sewing. Sewing still makes me nervous.

I was ready to pierce skin when he interrupted.

"Do you have anything to bite on?"

I took the belt that was around my waist wrapped it up and handed it to him. He bit down and nodded to show he was ready.

I started and his eyes rolled back into his head, I kept going. I wanted this to be over as fast as possible. He started making a few small shrieks here and there but he was toughing it out rather well I thought.

As I was getting to the last few stitches his hand found my leg and grabbed it tightly. I felt horrible for causing him so much pain.

I started to just mumble I'm sorry over and over again until I had finally finished. His head fell back onto the pillow in exhaustion and agony. I leaned up and pressed my hand to his forehead and face and apologized some more. Trying to gauge how well he was actually doing. I stopped myself and realized I needed to finish by covering it with a bandage. I grabbed clean cloth from the cabinet and bandaged him. I look at him for a moment. I should grab his friend and let him know I've finished. He probably wants to wait with him until he wakes up. As I struggle to stand back up George's hand grabs mine and squeezes. I squeeze back giving him reasurrence, and leave to confront everyone.

Ben steps up to me immediately as i exit the room.

"What's the damage, is he cool? Are we good?"

I could tell he was nervous about the answer.

"I'm not sure yet honestly, he's all stiched up. He's also still alive and lucid which is a good sign. It's going to take a long time to heal. Maybe a month or two. It also needs to stay clean and free of infection. I recommend staying here until he's fully healed. Ben seemed pleased with my answers "Can I go see him now?" I nodded and he rushed in.

Ashlee pulled me to the side. "You reccomend they stay for two months?"

"Yes, that was my recommendation. He was hurt prerty bad, he shouldn't be moving at all for atleast 3 weeks. I think we should just chill. As long as he heals well, we could use their help."

Ashlee crosses her arms. "This is risky, but Im with you. It's nice to have new faces around."

"I agree" I smile, feeling slightly better that I may have saved someone's life.

[captainkippen]

I don't know where I'm going with this, it's just a piece of free writing because I felt inspired. Might keep going and turn it into a short story or something.

TW: Implied abuse.

1994.

The door clatters open like a twister is blowing through and I jerk up with such violence I almost slide right off my seat. There are a few bleary-eyed moments of confusion as my heart calms down before a takeaway cup of coffee is thrust under my nose and I'm forced to take it before it ends up decorating my shirt.

"Rise and shine, loser. You fall asleep at your desk again? You know you're gonna have permanent keyboard marks on your face if you keep doing that."

I bat Jay's hands away from my neck, saving myself from one of his terrible massages. He keeps telling me he has magic hands, but I'm pretty sure the crick in my neck only sticks more stubbornly when he tries to get rid of it. I give my shoulders a roll, sighing into the satisfaction of feeling my joints click, and swivel around to face him.

He's dressed in the same clothes he wore to mall yesterday and the heavy stench of too many cigarettes clings to him which means he probably spent the night at Ricky's - our local 24 hour diner - periodically ducking into the alley to burn through a new pack of Marlboroughs. A fresh smudge of dark purples and blues stains the skin around his eye. I hope he at least gave his brother a bruise back to match.

"What time is it?" I punctuate my question with a yawn just to make a point, but he just grins and holds up his watch.

7:15AM. Wonderful. At least he waited until he used the front door for once. My parents fret about him breaking his neck every time he leaves scuff marks on the window ledge to avoid waking them up.

"Did you actually get any sleep last night?"

"Did you?" He fires back with a raised eyebrow, shrugging off his jacket and flopping onto my bed to grab the latest issue of Rolling Stone from where he left it strewn across one of the pillows last time he crashed here. Comfortable silence falls as I admire the way his fingers bend the magazine back. There's this little crease that forms between his brows whenever he's concentrating, physical evidence of him trying to force his brain to focus on one thing at a time and not the myriad of random thoughts bouncing in there at any given time. I hide my smile in my coffee - he knows I'm not really annoyed, but I refuse to give up the illusion. It's a ageing routine, but one I never get bored of.

I count the minutes until the silence breaks. One. Two. Thr-

"So I was thinking," he says, the sighs like he's exasperated at his own inability to keep words in. It's one of the many things I like about Jay - he always speaks his mind. It makes it easier to understand him.

"Dangerous task for you."

An unimpressed middle finger greets my words before they're completely out. I hold back a snort.

"Sorry. Go on?"

We've known each other since we were seven. Across the street neighbours. He was the first person I met when I moved in with my foster parents. In a street full of unfamiliar tree and looming white houses he sat there on the curb pretending to fish with a stick and a piece of string. He'd called over as I got out of the car, asked if I liked trout. I didn't even know what trout was. That was okay. It was gross anyway, apparently.

I don't remember ever making friends so easily, like we just fell together and that was it. No fuss. Ten years on and the surprise hasn't waned.

"You guys want breakfast?" My mom pokes her head around the door with a tired smile, interrupting whatever train of thought Jay was hopping on.

I shake my head and lift my coffee, ignoring the disapproving look she gives me. Coffee is not food nor is it particularly good for you, but it's also not worth a battle over nutrition before eight o'clock.

"All good here, Mrs H." Jay smiles, all teeth and charm and twinkling eyes, then pats his stomach as if to confirm it. It's a smile that's impossible to disagree with when it's directed right at you.

"You sure? Alrighty then," Mom says, doubt creeping into her tone despite her fond look. She was forever trying to feed Jay, convinced he was too skinny. Worried he wasn't getting enough to eat. I can't say I blame her - some days Jay looks like he's auditioning to play Mike Teevee right after he got put through Willy Wonka's stretching machine, but it's all an illusion. I've watched him consume an entire box of donuts in one sitting more than once. His stomach might as well be a trash compactor for all the junk he eats. Plus he always has snacks tucked into the glove compartment of his car in case of emergencies, right alongside a sock full of laundromat destined quarters, a spare toothbrush and his shaving kit.

"Sawyer, honey, can you please clean up a bit in here? It looks like a bomb hit it. Guests don't want to sit in this."

"Half of this is his mess!" I splutter as my mom smiles and disappears back down the hall. "He's not even a real guest!"

Jay only laughs and ducks out of the way when I throw a balled up sock at his head. Asshole.

"So as I was saying..."

"As you were saying," I roll my eyes, gesturing for him to continue.

"I think we should do something."

"What, like go to the movies?" There's nothing good out at the moment, I'm pretty sure. We spent all last weekend debating whether or not to go see the latest Keanu Reeves movie only to spend all our cash on popcorn and get kicked out halfway through because Jay's running commentary made me laugh so hard I choked.

"No man, like... something interesting."

"...bowling?"

He shoots me an unimpressed look and I raise my hands in surrender. What else could he possibly have in mind? Our town only has three things to do; movies, bowling or the mall. We've been cycling through each option all summer. It's the same thing every year and it does get old after a while, but it beats sweating to death outside and spending all day playing video games sets my dad off on the perils of computer addiction. If I ever have to hear another lecture about technology rotting my brain it'll be too soon.

"For a writer you sure are lacking imagination."

"Well what do you suggest, then?" I huff.

There's a gleam in his eye and the warning lights start flashing in my brain just a beat too late. I know that look, it's the kind that got me put in detention three weeks in a row last semester for filling Roy Jackson's football helmet with food dye after he called spread a false rumour that Mary Harring blew him in his backseat. In my defence, it was all Jay. In his defence, I didn't stop him. Principle Ikener's never looked so disappointed. Roy Jackson's face was pink for a week. Scraping gum off the bleachers has never been so satisfying.

"Okay, hear me out first, alright," he says as I groan. We both know I'm already doomed to agree, but we play the part like he has to convince me anyway. Like I said, an ageing routine.

There's a pause in which I repress a sigh and let him dramatically drum roll his fists through the air and then he says, "Europe."

The word is emphasised with jazz hands and I can only stare at him for a moment, my brain trying to compute it. Did I mishear? Did he get part way through a sentence then forget the rest? He stares at me expectantly and it's all I can do to repeat the word slowly after him. His resulting nod is reminiscent of my aunt's excitable golden retriever.

"What about Europe...?"

"We should go."

"What?"

"To Europe," he insists. "We should go."

"You want us to go to Europe."

He looks at me like I'm being deliberately stupid. "That's what I said."

"But... why?"

Summers at home are dull. Three long months of sweltering heat and so many snow cones we make ourselves sick, and weeks on end of trying to think of new things to do, but it has never been so bad that we've resorted to leaving the country before. I'm confused.

"You're always talking about how much you want to travel! And we've got time. two and a half months before school. Think about it, we could be spending that time on the beaches in Spain, or looking at fancy architecture in Italy! I can drag you 'round some museums, you can force me on a tour of places famous English writers lived and we can get sick of each other in style."

Morning light spills through the window and highlights the dustmotes in the air. The bruises on his face seem darker with his face haloed in gold. I get another whiff of cigarettes and realise the smell is staler than usual.

"I don't know," I say. "My parents-"

I get a set of pursed lips in response. His expression is strained.

"Your dad is always saying we should broaden our horizons. He'll be thrilled. Besides, think of all the cute European girls we'll meet."

"How would we even afford it?"

It's a deflection. For a pair of teenage boys, we're both pretty good with money. Weekend jobs at Blockbuster and Baskin Robbins. I still have money saved from my Bar Mitvah, mostly because I've never really wanted anything enough to really splash out. My clunky computer works just fine and I'm content with books and notepads. Jay saves like his life depends on it, and maybe it does. Money for gas and food for the infinite hours spent avoiding his own home. Money for college. Money for escaping.

He stares me down.

One, two, three days since he left the Rolling Stone on my pillow only to pick it back up this morning. I'd noted his lengthy absence yesterday, but I'd just assumed he'd gone fishing. I should have known something was off.

"Please?" There's a desperate edge to his tone that rugs at my heartstrings and it's all I can do not to demand he tell me why he's suddenly so keen on visiting Europe when he's never expressed any such desire before. Instead I just sigh.

"Okay, but you get to convince my mom."

[overwatch-imagines-hub]

The Ladies With a Medic S/O:

Anon said: “I loved "the boys with a medic SO" could we get girls with medic SO too please? You're great :)”

Well you’re great too so thank you! vwv Sorry if this is a bit awkwardly written, by the way; I really had to think about the ladies’ perspectives, and towards the end my think tank was a little drained and I kept losing my train of thought. <’D I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Read “The Boys With a Medic S/O:” here!

Tip Jar

~~~

Ana Amari

Loves having a medic s/o

She, and more importantly her teammates, get into trouble much too often

So it’s nice to have someone to call at 3 am with anything from “I burned my finger making tea, come kiss it and make it better” to “Angela’s at the base and Jack just broke a hip trying to jumping from one rooftop to another”

“No, listen, I swear it’s his hip, okay?”

“It’s definitely not his leg or getting shot in the arm, it’s the whole hip.”

“He’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Cue Soldier’s irritated hollering in the background while you snicker and force yourself out of bed

You both know she’s capable of dealing with most of the stuff she calls you about on her own, but “It’s easier with a professional around!”

AKA, every single injury of any caliber is a reason to see and/or smooch each other, so it’s fine

She loves to make cheesy and/or flirty medic jokes

Several medicinal pet names as well

You tease her about her age and health to about the same caliber as she teases Jack about the same things

However, instead of grumbling, she usually turns the teasing back or makes some flirty joke about how you’re welcome to give her a full body exam to make sure her health checks out

She also likes to walk into the med bay unannounced simply to come see you

You’ll be in the middle of a teammate’s checkup and she’ll waltz in, say she was looking for a band-aid, grab one, and then wait outside for you to finish

Ashe

Low-key grateful you’re a medic

With her line of work and mainly being surrounded by fighter robots, she appreciates having a medic around

Now, of course B.O.B. has basic medical skills and she could smooch him too, but it just wouldn’t be the same

For whatever reason, she quite likes making that tease

Anyway, she thinks you being a medic is great and, for the most part, is respectful about it

Makes the occasional medical joke and/or pickup line

Probably didn’t tell you her profession at first because she thought you were too good a person to get involved with her lifestyle

To be completely honest, she probably doesn’t often call you for medic-related things regardless

Whether or not you’re willing to doesn’t mean she wants you to get involved

Has you on call when she knows she’s going on a dangerous heist or other mission though

Doesn’t want to worry you but at the same time knows you’re skilled and trustworthy

Brigitte

Thinks it’s really cool that you’re a medic

Would love to learn some stuff from you

She basic medical skills and knowledge, but having more could never hurt

Plus she loves to learn new useful stuff

So if you’re up for it, she’d love to have you mentor her a bit

Probably treats you like any other medic on the field though

If you’re not the closest one to call, she needs someone with more skill, and/or it’s not an emergency that concerns you (AKA, she’s not the one hurt) then you won’t be the one she calls

Always lets you know when she gets hurt, though, so you can worry over her and nurse her back to health

Low-key loves when you worry over even her slightest injury

Kiss! Her! Scratch! Better!

Super respectful of your work and doesn’t like to interrupt you

However, she has accidentally hurt herself once or twice while blacksmithing, and has ended up waiting for you to finish whatever you’re doing to help her out

D.Va

Also thinks it’s really cool that you’re a medic

You’re smart and skilled and she’s gonna rant and fawn about it forever

Loves to brag about you to people

Likes to hang around you while you do work--not even bothering, just hanging off to the side and watching you--and loves to listen to you talk about it

Seriously, she could listen to you talk about your job, about the tiniest and simplest tasks, for hours

Probably picks up a thing or two from listening and watching so much

She’ll be on the field and someone will get hurt and she’ll just start spewing instructions

Afterwards it’ll take her a second to realize what she did and she’ll be like “Wait, what? Cool!”

Then chirps about it to you later

“Baaaaaabe, I talked about some of your stuff today! Perks of having a medic partner, huh?”

You’re the first person she thinks to call in most serious positions

She knows you can get pretty busy, though, so she also has a backup plan

CoughMercyCough

Mei

Doesn’t think a whole lot of it other than she appreciates another smart/nerdy mind to talk to

Y’all just talk at each each other, her about science and you about your own practices

Some things overlap, so that’s fun

Both of you picking up bits of the other person’s knowledge from talking about such things so often

Essentially nerding out about smart things together

Often calls you with medical questions when she comes up with them or finds herself in a situation where she may need the information

More often than not these questions result in a concerned you asking if she’s currently in the situation she’s describing

More often than not she says no

Roughly 30% she means it

Mercy

Appreciates the fact that she’s dating someone who understands what she’s going through most of the time

It’s nice to not have to explain everything in micro-details

Both of you being cute but also professional at work

Like you both focus on getting work done and are serious when needed

But also your desks face each other, you share each other’s work and food during lunch/break, and there’s a no PDA rule but y’all smooch and hold pinkies anyway and no one’s really mad about it because aww

Flirting in medical terms

Teasing in medical professional

The occasional medic pun

If one of you gets done with work before the other, you wait for the other to get done

You’ll wait for hours if you have to

Either piddling around or helping the other get their work done faster if you can

Going home together and just fuckin’ crashing

One of you flops on the couch while the other goes and heats up leftovers or orders food

Sitting together watching bad late-night/early-morning TV (depending on the time you get home) while ranting about your days

Angela complains about McCree a l o t

But also very lovingly talks about Fareeha and Ana, and teasingly talks about Jack

Either dragging each other to bed and holding each other up the entire time or falling asleep right there on the couch

Your days off are sparse and don’t line up very often, but when they do, it’s great

They’re either lazy days or date days and they’re always very soft and chill

Moira

Appreciates the like minds but otherwise doesn’t think much of it

When she realizes she likes you, she becomes a little iffy about letting you know about her experiments

If you’re up for it, she’ll probably ask for your input on them

Both to make said experiments a little more humane but also just to be around you more

The two of you don’t get to see each other very often but it’s always nice when you do

Moira’s not much of a PDA person but the only time she smiles (legitimately smiles, not a smirk or sneer) is when you walk into the room

It’s both sweet and terrifying to many of the other Talon members

At work, lunches and the occasional break are mainly the only times the two of you get to see each other

Stopping each other in the hall to talk until someone eventually comes and drags one of you away

Popping in each other’s offices for work things but also just to talk much longer than you’re supposed to stop and talk

Home life is very scattered

Again, neither of you get to see each other too often because Moira often stays at work much later than you can stay up and you often leave for work earlier in the morning

However, the two of you make it work

If you fall asleep on the couch waiting, you’ll wake up in bed snuggled by your girlfriend

You leave good morning notes and make Moira’s favorite coffee before leaving so she doesn’t have to rush her morning as much

Leaving notes for each other in general

Doing almost all of the chores and other at-home tasks together just to catch up and enjoy each other’s company

Days off are cleaning days, but, if you have multiple in a row, the two of you will alternate between cleaning days and chill days

Moira loves to take you out on days off, whether it be to lunch, to shop, to just walk around down, etc

Pharah

She thinks so highly of your work

Like she loves that you’re a doctor

Loves to be by your side off and on the field

She’s kind of become your designated guardian during missions at this point

You being there doesn’t distract her from her own work, but when you have to stop to help and heal teammates she makes a point to be nearby just in case someone tries to attack you

One of her casual pet names for you is Doc

She loves to talk with you about work

She herself has always been passionate about saving and protecting people, so she loves that you share those values

Asks you medical questions pretty often, both when she’s in a situation and not sure what she should do and just when the questions pop into her head

She’s had a decent amount of medical training herself but she picks up quite a bit more knowledge from you

Always pops in when she knows you have free time to make sure things are going well and you’re not overworking yourself or getting overwhelmed

Being a medic comes with its bloody business and she wants to make sure that doesn’t take too much of a toll on you

She stops by especially frequently when you get extremely busy (such as after a particularly difficult mission) or have to work overtime

Brings you snacks and drinks and makes sure you take your breaks

If she’s done with her own work, she’ll probably wait around the compound for you to get done

Always tries to get you relax and de-stress after work, whether that means going out for a cozy late night dinner, going to a funny movie, taking a hot bath, or straight-up flopping onto the couch and laying thre for several hours

Sombra

Before she actually got to know you and the two of you started dating, she probably thought you were kind of a pretentious prick

Similar to her current feelings about Moira

She has a thing against professionals in the medical, scientific, and law fields

Just authority figures in general

Don’t ask her why

Anyway

Doesn’t mind having a medic around considering the situations her teammates get into

Tries to convince you not to worry about herself, though

She’s not usually on the field anyway, and, when she is, she can handle herself

She just really doesn’t want you to be worrying about her

Upgrades all your gear, both your equipment in the med bay and what you wear on the field

Not gonna be having outdated equipment and pieces that might fritz out on her watch

Symmetra

Thinks very highly of your work

She just really appreciates what you do

Tries to make sure you don’t overwork yourself

Ironically, as much as she tries, she’s terrible at doing so for herself

When she notices you getting the slightest bit of tired, she does all in her power to make sure you’ll take a break

Beware

She’s a master negotiator and usually gets what she wants

Both of you just generally moderating each other so neither of you burn out

Sending each other messages at work checking up on each other

You’re both pretty busy but Symmetra’s schedule is usually more flexible

She has that power, being a higher up and all

She likes to pick you up and take you out of the compound during your lunches and breaks

Symmetra just waltzing in the med bay in a gorgeous suit to pick you up for lunch hoob o y

The lady’s quite health-oriented, so she tries to get you out of your hole as often as she can, especially considering some of the darker work you have to attend to

Tracer

Loooooves her smart medic s/o

She finds it super cool that you’re a medic, and is also super proud of you for doing what she considers the hardest part of the job

“All I have to do is run around and shoot things! You have to heal people! And do paperwork!”

She just

Fawns over you a lil bit

Just a little

Not a lot at all

Loves to listen to you talk about work, even though there’s quite a bit she doesn’t totally understand about it

Likes to listen to you rant about the more difficult parts of work as well; it’s good to get that stuff out there rather than tuck it away inside

She’s just a really good listener, honestly

Whenever you come home from a more difficult day at work, she’s prepared to go into comfort mode

Your favorite takeout? Ordered. A hot shower? Prepared. Fluffy pajamas? Sitting out, ready to be worn. Your favorite movies? Rented. Lena’s ears? Ready to listen.

She’s always still asleep by the time you have leave for work, but she’s always somehow awake whenever you get home, whether that be at 7 pm or 3 am

Even on missions, she’ll find out when you get home and make sure to call you and ask about your day

Widowmaker

Doesn’t think a whole lot of you being a medic, to be completely honest

As a lady of her apathetic nature, it’s a neither impressive nor boring detail

She thinks reasonably well of your profession and field, as they are the people saving lives, but that’s about it

She sometimes forgets how gruesome and dark the work can become, however, until you come home one day so emotionally drained from telling a family one of their members will never be coming home

Amelia’s just so used to the rough and gore herself that she doesn’t realize the toll it takes on others until she sees it

Although she’s not the best when it comes to emotional care and she’s a little spacey when it comes to remembering such things, she does her best to help you not become overwhelmed

She doesn’t normally visit you unprompted at work, but if she sees you in the halls or on one of your breaks or something, she’ll come chat

Zarya

She thinks very highly of people who do the more delicate and thoughtful work as opposed to someone just being out in the field

So she’s pretty impressed with you

Despite being the professional lady she is, that facade immediately cracks when the two of you start dating

She doesn’t let such a thing keep her from doing the important stuff, of course

However

She totally does steal you any chance she gets, either on your breaks or hers, to go be mushy

Smooching, giggle, holding hands, all that

If the two of you bump into each other in the hall, she’s tugging you somewhere more secluded to A) ask about your day B) smooch you a lot

If you’re at a meeting together, she’ll sit by you and hold your hand and play with your fingers under the table

Always takes you out to lunch if you both have time

Again, she’s still a very professional lady

She’s just

Also a sap now

If she’s on a mission, she makes sure to call you a couple times a day to make sure you’re doing alright and not overworking yourself

TherewasanotherthingIwasgoingtoputaboutherbeingonamissionbutIjustforgotitson e v e r m i n d

When you’re both on the same mission, she becomes your bodyguard of sorts

[izzy-b-hands]

Aten Pt. 1

More random Ahk fic. I gave him a bf (again, because I can’t help myself, if I can’t find anyone he’s gonna at least) and we get nsfw so hold on to ur hats folks. A reminder that in my canon, Ahk is 21 (I know the movie says he’s younger but gosh darn it I just don’t believe that. He does not look or act that young to me okay. I remember being as young as they claim he is, he would need to act much sillier/stupider to be that young, but I digress. Here in Lee’s fanon land, he’s 21.) 

Interspersed some themes from the opera Akhnaten, and talk about it in the fic, hence the title (the name for the sun disk deity/sort of technically an aspect of Ra but whatever that’s a lot of history to sum up right here worshipped by the pharaoh Akhnaten.)

Breaking this into parts, because this is getting longer than I anticipated lol. 

ANYWAY

fic below the cut as per usual

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

He rose at the usual hour, expecting the soft lights of his exhibit, always on thanks to Larry.

It was pitch black, except for the soft glow of the emergency lights out in the hall. As he fumbled his way through the rest of the museum, grateful for the few emergency lights. He expected the exhibit spaces would be empty, and everyone else would be as confused as he was. 

But everyone was in their usual exhibits, not a sign of life in them. Nothing woke them, not any of his shouting or poking or prodding. 

“If this a joke, then know that I do not like it!” Ahkmenrah shouted to the apparently empty museum. 

It was eerie as he walked quickly from one hall to the next, no sound but the swish of his cloak and the padding of his sandals on the tile floor. 

Finally, he heard Larry’s voice, calling out for someone, anyone to answer.

“Where have you been?” he scolded as he ran to the main hall, where Larry was stood near the front desk, looking as puzzled as could be. 

“I slept through my alarm, my bad,” Larry replied. “Is this uhh...a prank or did I piss everyone off, or...” 

“I don’t know. I’ve tried waking everyone, at every exhibit I’ve gone by, and nothing has worked. If this is a prank, they are very dedicated to it,” Ahkmenrah replied. 

Without warning, Larry screamed, as loud as he could.

Ahkmenrah stared at him, wincing at the sound. “What on earth was that for?” 

Larry shrugged. “Thought it might rouse somebody. But I don’t think anyone’s awake. Which is weird, because then how are you...” 

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong,” he replied. 

They were of one mind then, down the halls and back to Ahkmenrah’s exhibit to check on the tablet. 

“Ah,” Ahkmenrah sighed. “Look. One of the panels is wedged, someone must have tried to turn it. You think it being this high up would mean no one would try and touch it.” 

He carefully tried to moved the panel back, but it was stuck tight. “I’ll need tools to move it without damaging it. The restoration expert’s tools are what i’ll need, if you can get them.” 

Larry winced. “He’s at a set of conferences, for the next two weeks. Took his things with him too. I have that memo somewhere; he said in it just to leave things in need of repair in his office.” 

“With all due respect to him, I’d rather repair this on my own once he’s back, and you can borrow his tools for me at night,” Ahkmenrah said as gently as he could. He knew that the restorer meant well, but he still would rather not have him touch the tablet if he could help it. 

“So...that one being stuck must have changed the settings or whatever on this, right?” 

Ahkmenrah nodded. “Apparently. With it moved, the magic only awakens me, not everyone else.” 

They stood there awkwardly for a moment as Ahkmenrah set the tablet back in its place. 

“Good night, I suppose,” he finally said, and waited for Larry to go.

“Oh. I mean...okay. If you want me to go, I can. But just because everyone else is...asleep, we could say, doesn’t mean you have to stay in here alone. Unless you want to be alone, of course, then I’ll...go sit at the front desk and just...I don’t know, honestly,” Larry said with a shrug. “If you’d want to hang out, come help me keep an eye on things, I’d certainly welcome the company though.” 

“That would be nice,” Ahkmenrah admitted. He’d figured Larry might not want him tagging around after him like a puppy dog, so it was a pleasant surprise to hear otherwise. 

“C’mon then! We’ll talk, hang out, I’ve got snacks and your other clothes in my locker, if you want them,” Larry said, leading the way out of the exhibit. 

With the lights still off, it was eerie walking about, the museum feeling almost too bit. Larry seemed to feel the same, if the nervous chewing of his lip was anything to go by.

“So. Must have been scary, waking up in here all alone like this,” Larry said as they walked to the employee lounge. “Not that you couldn’t handle being alone in here, I mean, I wasn’t implying-” 

“Actually, that was my worst nightmare come true,” Ahkmenrah interrupted. “I was so glad to hear your voice, to not be alone in here anymore. If I had no other option but to be alone...I suppose I’d have simply stayed in my exhibit area.” 

“Well, I promise I will be on time every day for the next two weeks, so no more waking up alone,” Larry replied with a smile. “After you change, should we go put some music on the PA system? Too quiet in here without something on, or people in here.” 

“I’d like that. You have something in mind?” 

“An opera. I figure if there’s anyone who’ll listen to it with me, it’ll be you,” Larry said.

“Opera? I didn’t expect you to be that sort of man,” Ahkmenrah said. 

Larry shrugged. “Not my normal thing, but I like this one. About a pharaoh, actually, by Philip-” 

“Glass,” Ahkmenrah finished. “I know the opera, and I do like it. You go put it on, I’ll join you in a moment.” 

He changed quickly as Larry went to the main desk. It was turning out better than expected, spending time with just Larry. Who knew how else he might surprise him. 

He went to the main desk, and found the conversation flowed easily now while the opera played, echoing through the halls. About the opera (both of them wished to see it performed live) to the museum, to the city itself. 

“I know you’d love to get out and see more of it,” Larry said. “I want to make that happen more, but the others-” 

“I understand,” Ahkmenrah stopped him with a raise of his hand. “Not all of them can go out and pass on the streets in modern clothes, and they get understandably jealous about it. Any night you can offer me is a gift; I treasure them all.” 

Larry nodded. “Y’know though, I could bring someone to meet you, Ahk. About your age, a regular here, stays so late I’ve had to ask him to go so he doesn’t see all of you wake up! But he’s a great kid, studying to work in Egyptology. He claims he only comes to your exhibit every other week for that research but-” 

Larry laughed. “You’d love him. He asks about you all the time. ‘What do you think he was like, what did he look like, surely Ahkmenrah must have been wonderful.’ I have to bite my tongue not to tell him he could just meet you and see. But now...maybe I could.” 

“You think he could keep it a secret? About me...” Ahkmenrah asked. 

“I do,” Larry replied. “Here, let me show you him.” 

He pulled out his phone, and showed a picture to Ahkmenrah. “There’s me, of course, your sarcophagus in the background, and that’s Tristan.” 

His breath caught in his throat. He was cute, reddish-blondish hair and a sweet smile, and soft brown eyes anyone could get lost in. And for a moment, lost he was. 

“Ahk? You good?” Larry’s chuckle brought him back.

“Yes, of course, um-” he stuttered. “He looks to be a very-” 

“Cute?” 

“I...I mean I’ve never said-” 

“I know,” Larry said, and smiled. “But you just stopped breathing for a good minute, and you’re blushing red as a tomato. Kinda gave yourself away, buddy. And don’t worry, half the time he can’t stop talking about how beautiful he presumes you were. Especially after his last break up, with some guy named Jeremy. He was in here every day for a week straight, in your exhibit, crying or trying not to cry. Said being near you and your exhibit made him feel better.” 

His heart was beating entirely too fast to be reasonable, and he scolded himself. “The poor thing. Was it recent?” 

“Nah. Good year back now. Why? Are you wanting this first meeting to be a-” 

“Date? That would be entirely too forward of me to ask for that,” Ahk said, then bit his tongue. “I mean, unless he’d...I don’t know, I-” 

“Awww,” Larry said softly. “Tell you what. I’ll see if he can come with me tomorrow night. Let him in on this, that it has to stay a secret, or he can’t come. Not that anyone would believe him if he told anyone but, still. And you two can meet, and if sparks fly...well, there’s the couch in the lounge...” 

“Larry!” he said sharply, but his mind lingered at the thought. Would it be much too much on a first meeting? Probably, but he couldn’t help but think of it.

“I’m just saying,” Larry laughed. “Whatever happens, you two have that space to sit and talk or...anything else you can think up.” 

He could only nod, as he thought of Tristan’s face, and the glimpse of Tristan’s hands, lovely hands, that had been in the picture Larry had shown him. 

Blessedly, Larry let the conversation drift to the snacks he’d brought with him for the night, and they ate and talked of other unimportant things for the rest of the night. 

“Time to pack it in,” Larry said as he cleaned the desk. “You want me to walk you back?” 

“I’ll be alright. I’ll go change and head in. Thank you for tonight Larry, for everything.” 

He left quickly then, as he thought of him again, and did so all the way through changing and settling back into his sarcophagus. Trying to memorize the cute face in the picture, so it was the last thing on his mind before the morning sun crested. 

****

The next night, he was up and out of his sarcophagus before Larry would arrive. Normally, he’d wait, but he couldn’t tonight. He had a good impression to make, after all. 

Even with his careful dressing and primping before he went to the main desk, it was still a short wait until he finally heard Larry’s voice, and a new voice, coming down the hall. 

“I can keep a secret,” the new voice said, deep but not too deep. Like a ray of afternoon sunshine, Ahk thought. Strong enough to warm one, but soft enough to fall asleep under. “I just...man, if this is real. Wow. Should I bow, or kneel when I see him?” 

“Just act normal,” Larry laughed. “Yes, he’s royalty, but he’s very...chill. And excited to meet you too.” 

Larry smiled as they approached the desk. “And there he is! Ahk, Tristan. Tristan, Ahk.” 

He left the desk to approach them, and immediately Tristan fell to one knee. 

“Oh no, you don’t have to,” Ahk said, and rushed over to pull him back up. “I mean, that is sweet of you. But it’s alright. Here.” 

He took off his crown, and handed it to Larry before ruffling a hand through his curls. “Better? The crown is...imposing. And a bit heavy.” 

Tristan was bright red, and suddenly grabbed his hand and kissed it. “You’re still a pharaoh though.” 

“True, but not in this time. I’m just...me,” he replied, even as his heart beat at the contact of Tristan’s lips to his skin. 

“I’m gonna go about things,” Larry said. “You two head on to the lounge. I’ll put this away for you, okay Ahk?” 

He nodded, but his eyes never left Tristan’s.

“...okay then,” Larry said. “You kids have fun.” 

As Larry walked away, Ahk led Tristan to the lounge.

“You need not walk behind me,” he said as they went, noticing Tristan apparently working to stay just behind him. 

“But you’re-” 

“Ahk. A new friend, who’d love to have you walk beside him,” he interrupted softly, and gestured for Tristan to come forward. 

He could have screeched with joy as Tristan trotted up to be beside him. It was wonderful and sweet and made even better when they reached the couch and, thanks to how small it was, ended up as close as could be.

They were silent for a moment, then Tristan giggled. 

“Gosh. You’re him! You’re more beautiful than I expected.” 

Immediately, Tristan blushed again, and it was Ahk’s turn to giggle. 

“Larry showed me a picture of you, last night. But you’re even more beautiful in person.” 

“Oh, gosh I’m nothing compared to you though,” Tristan stuttered.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Ahk replied, and tucked a stray piece of Tristan’s hair behind his ear. It wasn’t horribly long, just a bit near the ears, and that those pieces kept popping forward was utterly adorable. “You’re handsome. Even your name is beautiful.” 

“I’ve always hated it,” Tristan sighed. “It literally means ‘sad’, or at least one translation of it does.” 

“That may be, but you shine brighter than the meaning of the name. We could give you a nickname, if you’d want something happier.” 

 “That would be...so cool!” Tristan said. “I mean, my mom calls me Stan, but I don’t like that either.” 

Ahk bit back a frown. This man was certainly not a ‘Stan.’ “You remind me of the sunlight. The whole museum seems brighter with you in it. I could call you Aten.” 

He didn’t think Tristan could blush any deeper, but he did. “But that’s...a deity, I mean at least he’s associated with the sun and Ra, and I am not-” 

“A god? No, but if dying and living again has taught me anything, it is that none of us are. But we may bear the similarities of them, as you bear the brightness and warmth of the sun. If you would rather I not call you that-” 

“No, you can, I mean...it makes me feel special. And I’m nothing special, but it’s...it’s nice to feel special,” Tristan, his Aten, interrupted gently. 

This was too forward, Ahk knew it was, but Aten seemed to feel the same. And there was no harm in addressing the elephant in the room. 

“I want to get to know you better. But, we both seem rather distracted by the...shall we say physical side of things.” 

Aten, and though Tristan was a beautiful name, he did seem more an Aten the more Ahk used it, even in his head, nodded. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I got here. I thought the kiss on the hand would calm me down, because I mean, c’mon, we’re just meeting and I am not normally that sort of guy, but this has been just...magnetic and I want to get to know you too, but if you feel the same and it would be easier to talk if we get things out of our system, and-” 

Ahk softly grabbed Aten’s face in his hands. “Could you just kiss me?” 

And there was the afternoon sun again, in Aten’s lips and hands and hips as he pulled him close and back with him onto the couch. He heard Larry’s footsteps and the closing of the lounge door, but paid it no mind. 

It was frenzied for all of a moment, before Aten stopped and hissed. “Your clothes...I can’t imagine trying to restore them, I should be careful.” 

“Hold on,” Ahk said, and carefully moved from under him. Without a second thought, he pulled his sweatshirt and sweats from Larry’s locker, and changed. 

It was only after he was done changing, his usual garb safely folded and set on the table in the lounge that he realized he had accidentally stepped way over the line of forward, though Aten’s face was a happy one. 

“Should I have just left them off?” he asked with a smile as he returned to his spot beneath Aten. 

“I...I’ve just never seen you...sweats, it’s different, not bad just...” Aten’s head dropped to Ahk’s shoulder, and he pulled him close again, running his hands over Aten’s back. 

“Not very regal, but comfortable,” he said. “And on the nights Larry lets me out to explore, I have to blend in, so...these.” 

Aten seemed stuck, his head lifted again, but those gorgeous brown eyes simply glued to his. 

“Come. Kiss me again. We’ll talk later tonight, or tomorrow, if tonight proves too busy,” he smiled, and traced Aten’s lips with one of his fingers before pulling him gently down by the chin for another kiss. 

Logically, he knew the night would have to end, but he didn’t want it to. It was too good, all of this. Aten warm in his arms, stripping him of his sweatshirt before pulling off his own shirt, their hips grinding as they kissed. He could not say all what he would do just to have Aten’s hands stay on him as they were now, moving to every bit of bare skin they could reach, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, but he knew it was a great deal. 

An alarm beeped on Aten’s watch, and he broke their kiss to look at it. “Fuck. We have half an hour left. Larry said the sun-” 

“I know,” Ahk replied. “A half hour is plenty of time to end this the way I think we’d both like it to.” 

It wasn’t enough time to do everything he might have been hoping for, but it was enough time to keep kissing Aten, to have him leave marks on his neck that he prayed would not fade by the time he awoke the next night, even after his body changed for the morning. Enough time to moan loudly enough at the increased pace of it all, the friction of their hard cocks against each other, kept apart only by the fabric of Ahk’s sweatpants and Aten’s boxer briefs (he’d barely been able to focus enough to undo the button and zipper of Aten’s jeans, but he was so glad he had.) Enough time to leave a mark of his own, a gentle nip at Aten’s neck that made him whimper and whine so loudly he knew Larry must have heard it. But he didn’t care, had only one thing on his mind. 

Just before the second alarm on Aten’s watch beeped, he let himself go, moaning, his cum hitting his stomach and Aten’s as the waistband on his sweatpants had shifted. Aten followed a moment later, kissing him so hard as he came that he saw stars. 

As they lay there, still wrapped in each other, there was a knock on the door.

“Um. I hate to break up the...well. But we’ve got three minutes, Ahk, so-” 

Aten kissed him one last time, then pulled himself up and off the couch. “Come on. I’ll help clean you up before we dress you, let me get-” 

“Leave it,” Ahk said softly. “It won’t matter anyways, after the sun rises. I want it on me for now. A reminder.” 

Aten kissed him again, but Larry’s insistent knocking interrupted it. 

“Tomorrow night?” Ahk asked softly as he changed. 

“Definitely,” Aten replied with a grin. “Maybe we can even talk tomorrow.” 

“Of course.” 

“And maybe, keep the door shut again...I mean, in case we need a break, from talking, or...that sounds so bad, probably, but...” 

Ahk smiled, and dashed from the door to him to kiss him deeply again. “Not bad at all. We can do both. Till tomorrow night.” 

He had to run to his exhibit, and was barely in his sarcophagus when the heavy feeling of death came over him again. 

But it had been worth it, so worth it. He couldn’t wait for the next night. 

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 

Cover image credit goes to the amazing saintcalum!

it’s starting to get interesting!!!! this bit is quite a bit longer than the first which is fun - it’s about 4k words but that’s getting up there for me. hope you enjoy it!!! as always pls tell me what you think this is my baby and I love her

Monday morning is rough.

Aspen usually gets to work for nine, which means she has time to grab breakfast with her roommates before she lets the subway drag her to work. On her first morning as a personal assistant, she’s aiming to get to the coffee shop by eight, because she doesn’t trust herself or lines. She’s gonna put on some classy business makeup today, too, just do her eyebrows and put on mascara, not to mention her stress doublechecking her - well, Mr. Hood’s planner. This all means she’s trying to leave the house at the time she usually gets out of bed, which is very unfair.

She thinks about pretending to forget Calum’s coffee order all the way there. Honestly, she’d be better off in a lab somewhere, and the sooner he gets tired of her the sooner she’s elbow-deep in PCR and collagen synthesis. Still, she’s a try-hard at heart, and she mourns her honest nature the whole time she’s standing in line. Decaf, one cream.

Even with her comfortable margin of time, it’s almost eight-thirty when she gets to the front of the building. Her new business flats are already threatening to give her blisters, which sucks, but she straightens her back as a sleek car pulls up and her boss gets out of the backseat. Of course he doesn’t drive himself to work. Aspen smiles at the old man chauffeuring as Mr. Hood steps out, billion-dollar-briefcase in hand.

“Good morning!” She says, instead of ���sweet ride my dude” or worse, her first instinct, to ask him why he’s having her bring him coffee when there’s almost undoubtedly better beans at his mansion.

She suspects it’s a test.

See, she came prepared today; she Googled her boss and her and Mel and Paige made fun of the articles that called him a “human sized lever pushing the industry forwards”, or worse, “Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor”. Jokes aside, though, she paid attention and she thinks she’s gonna be able to figure this out properly. He’s smart, no matter what Forbes or Business Insider says. He shows up to all sorts of galas with a pretty flavour of the month, which keeps both the Daily Gotham (“the idiot newspaper for criminals” her journalist roommate Paige calls it) and the New York Times very well entertained. When Aspen said she got a weird vibe, Paige said that he might be hiding something with this public image. Paige was probably joking (Aspen’s had all kinds of crackpot theories), but the more Aspen ruminates on it the more suspicious she feels.

She thinks back to the questions he asked in that interview. He probably doesn't trust her either.

So she hands him his coffee. “There’s a little- I dunno if you like pastries but these are my favourites. If you don’t want it I’ll eat it.”

Calum takes a sip as he walks into the lobby. He’s taller, and Aspen didn’t think much of that until she had to keep up with him. “I’m not really one for sweets.” He says, barely looking at her. By that time they've reached the elevators and she's almost surprised he doesn't have her press the button for him.

“Alright, that's cool. Snacks for later.” She says as the door dings open and they step in.

Aspen reaches out for the paper bag of pastry when she realizes Mr. Hood is looking at her, really looking, for the first time all morning. He doesn't move to hand it over. “Sorry, did I- you're not allergic or anything-”

“It's not that, no, you're very thoughtful. You're just very- people aren't usually very informal with me like that.” He says, and not like it's a good thing. Aspen’s stomach drops, and not just because this elevator goes up real high. She's pretty sure the whole city can see the blush on her cheeks.

“I didn't mean to overstep- I'm sorry.” She says. He has a ghost of a smile on his lips at that. “I'm sorry, sir.” She tries again, with a careful kind of laugh, but he seems to smile properly at that and she feels a little warmer.

“Don’t worry about it too much. It’s your first day. I’ll play nice.” He says, and if Aspen didn’t know better she would have said he winked before pressing the paper bag into her hand and turning to the doors.

She’s still trying to process that as the elevator dings again for the top floor and he steps out. No matter how warm the places where their skin met feel, she has to hurry to trail after him, which she does not like. Stupid long-legged CEOs, stupid business flats. Maybe this is another test, to see if she's content with falling behind or if she leans in to the cardio. Aspen is starting to think maybe she hates being a personal assistant, and it's only been five minutes.

Mr. Hood starts talking as they head through the reception area. “This is how most days are will go; once I arrive, you'll bring me my coffee and we'll go over my appointments and meetings for the day, lunch plans, etcetera. I may need you to accompany me to some of them, just to take notes. Your computer should be connected to my email, I'll need you to look through that in a second.” He opens the door of his office for her and follows her in, taking a seat at his desk and looking at her expectantly.

Well. No pressure, or anything.

“Alright, so here’s the agenda for the day, here's your copy,” She says, pulling a neatly folded piece of paper out of her bag. “First meeting is at ten with the-”

“It is 2019.”

What? Aspen almost panics. “What?”

“It's 2019, we have smartphones, you don't need to-” Calum gestures at the sheet, looking- not angry, not amused, just- unreadable.

“I know that. Sir.” Says Aspen, not like a defensive child at all. “It's just nice sometimes to have a hard copy. Maybe you'll like it.”

She gets a faintly amused vibe. Mr. Hood is definitely finding this a little funny. Asshole.

“Alright, then, go on.”

Aspen takes a deep breath. “SO, ten o’clock meeting with Julia Fedeski and the team from Hood Automotive, eleven thirty demo from Hood Tech that could be pushed to after lunch if the meeting goes long, then you have lunch with - it just says a question mark on your sheet, in the book there were like three names scribbled out.”

“That's fine.” Mr. Hood is definitely smiling a little now. Aspen really fuckin’ wished she knew why.

“Alright, then after lunch at one you're supposed to have a meeting with the sales rep - I wish I could be more specific but all it says is “the sales rep”. Um, and then at two thirty you have a phone interview with WGBS. Finally, at five it says you have to leave for a fitting for the Gotham Museum fundraiser and I can't let you be late to that. It's very clear. And that's what your day looks like!”

“Sir.” Mr. Hood reminds her, letting an honest smile show.

“Sir!” Aspen covers as best she can. “I'm sorry, I- I'm a scientist by trade, we're an irreverent bunch. I'll get it.”

“I know you will.” He seems cheerful as he takes another sip of his coffee. “Why don’t you check for messages and come back in, say, half an hour to bring me up to speed?”

“Absolutely, sir,” says Aspen, and she is out of that office as fast as politely possible.

Calum Hood is still terrifying, but at least that time Aspen didn't feel like she was about to spontaneously combust.

Half an hour gives her time to get a cup of tea before she heads back in to give the seventh richest person in the world an update. She doesn't burst into flames that time, either, and he doesn't have to remind her to address him all formal-like this time, either.

...maybe this could work.

By time Aspen emerges, glowing with happiness because she didn't fuck that exchange up, Liam and Janice are in. Janice gives her a really kind smile. Liam looks at her and his shoulders sag.

Aspen had hoped that Liam would have something to say to her today. An apology. She would have taken any excuse. She didn't want one of her best and most handsome work friends to be angry at her like this! It looks like that's not going to happen, though, which is- it's a shame.

“Good morning Janice, good morning Mr. Payne.” She chirps anyway.

Janice seems surprised to see her cheerful, but she says hello anyways. Liam grunts, but at least he doesn't try to grab her again.

Aspen suspects she's going to be counting her blessings fairly often this week.

She heads into her office and gets to… work, she thinks? She doesn't know what she's supposed to be doing until Mr. Hood needs her, so she pokes through file cabinets and tries not to look up through the glass to see what Liam's doing.

She makes a reservation for lunch.

She answers the phone and manages to direct them to Hood Tech.

She calls Mr. Hood fifteen minutes before his meeting to remind him and ask if she needs to take notes (she doesn't).

She watches him leave his office and head to the elevators. He doesn't wave.

Janice answers a phone call.

Liam coughs.

GOD, she's going to be here forever.

Aspen decides she hates being a personal assistant. Offices are terrible. Worst of all, she’s still over-analyzing the little exchange she had with her boss in the elevator, probably because her genius brain has nothing else to do. She’s really trying not to be silly about this but god, she fuckin’ yearns to be in a lab. No one expects a bunch of nerds to look poised and collected while they wait for something to happen! Aspen wishes she was back in the basement. Mouska, pretty Mouska who worked next door, would always let Aspen come around and watch her dissect turtle brains or whatever. Even when there was nothing to do, there was something to do. Here, all she can do us Google “what to do in an office when you are bored” and pray Liam can't see her browser history. One of the suggestions is “quit”. God, she wishes.

Things look up around eleven, when Calum gets back and has her draft an email for him. It takes her a nerve-wracking fifteen minutes to write one paragraph, but he approves it and then they finally get to head down to the levels of Hood Tech’s labs for the demo.

To say Aspen is psyched would be an understatement. She even grabs her safety glasses from the desk (of course she’s keeping them around) on her way to meet Mr. Hood at the elevators. Just in case. He meets her with eyebrows raised. “You don’t have to come along.” he says, but he doesn’t sound opposed to it so she presses on.

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d really like to. Do you know how jealous Ash- Dr. Irwin is going to be when he hears about this?” She’s got a clipboard in her hand to make her look professional, and it seems to work because he smiles at her and turns to the elevator.

Hood Tech is so badass. Aspen remembers when they came out with the remote hacking device that helped Gotham City PD take down Firefly a few months before she moved to the city. Obviously with Gotham’s problems with corruption in the government, it makes her a little nervous, but god, she’s really into the science behind it. She can’t wait to see what they’re planning to show Mr. Hood.

She practically vibrates all the way down to the 19th floor, where everything is black and chrome when they step out. Aspen is a little envious that these guys get the flashy decor while her basement lab is a symphony in beige, but she has to admit she loves the effect. Someone is waiting by the elevators to walk them there, a middle-aged man in a lab coat and khakis. He doesn’t say much as they head through the labs, at least not to her. Mr. Hood talks to him in low tones. Usually being ignored would drive Aspen mad, but she takes this opportunity to try to peer into any lab with an open door and glean something about the research. Most of the doors are closed, but she sees a shooting range, shiny lab benches, and what looks like an fMRI machine. She’s really digging it.

They’re lead into a room with more men in lab coats standing around, and a chair in the middle of the room. One chair. As they step towards it, both Calum and the guy in the lab coat hesitate. “Oh, don’t worry, I can stand. I’m wearing sensible footwear and everything.” She jokes, wiggling her business flats. “I’m Aspen, by the way, nice to meet you all.” She waves cheerfully. She’s been told it’s disarming.

She gets one awkward wave back, so she counts it as a success. Calum sits down. Aspen stands behind his chair and tries to prepare herself for the marvels she’s undoubtedly about to see. Hood Tech does not disappoint. They’re shown a robot the size of her thumbnail that holds a camera and microphone and hovers, and as soon as it gets a portable power source it’ll be a breakthrough in surveillance. Next, the team brings out a voice synthesizer and has Calum speak into it, and soon the entire room of scientists has taken a turn speaking in his voice. Aspen’s clipboard is dangling at her side; she knows they’ve saved the best for last, and she’s so anxious to see what it is. The scientists seem just as excited as she is; she can catch the bright looks they give each other while Mr. Hood looks over the voice synthesizer.

He can sense it too. “...And?” Calum says, setting the device aside.  

Dr. Fox, the head of the team, grins. “And the Hive.”

Someone opens a box, and, yeah, it’s a swarm of drones that fly out to hover around Calum’s chair. Aspen, who’s standing right behind him, is also surrounded, but one of the robots around her beeps at her reassuringly. She thinks she likes it. No, she knows she likes it. “Autonomous swarm!” She exclaims, grinning.

Some of the researchers look surprised. Good, Aspen thinks. Let that be the last time they underestimate her.

Mr. Hood looks much less impressed, both with her and with the robots. “They certainly look good. What are the implications?”

“Well, as your, um, companion mentioned, it’s an autonomous swarm system that has many possible applications. The Navy has been testing similar systems for defence as well as offence, but we think that it could, for a start, act as security in the building while we improve its range.” Dr. Fox says, looking confident. “It’s just a start, mind you. I’d like to show you something more.

“The swarm can explore on its own, but it can also cluster around any object, moving or not. The nature of the swarm also has some… interesting features.” The good doctor pulls out a remote from his lab coat and presses a button.

Instantly, the whirring of the swarm’s motors changes to something sinister, and they start to move faster, tighter. They haven’t touched her yet, but suddenly they’re scary. Less like something from Star Wars, more like something from a nightmare. Aspen flinches, even though she knows it’s stupid.

Calum Hood isn’t immune to this, either. Aspen can hear it in his voice when he says, “Nicely done.” He’s uneasy. Even some of the scientists outside of the Hive look nervous.

Dr. Fox must press another button, because the swarm softens, retreats back into the box. “I’d like to discuss it more with you inside my office, Mr. Hood.”

Calum stands up and brushes off his suit. He doesn’t look shaken, but that doesn’t mean anything. “Excellent. Could someone show Aspen back to-”

“I can wait.” Aspen says brightly, brushing her hair back. She’s going to take a look at those drones if it kills her.

Her boss doesn’t look like he expected anything else. “Suit yourself.”

“I will!” She says as Dr. Fox shows him into the office.

As soon as the door closes, she makes a beeline for the box of robots, smiling at the scientists to show she means no harm. There are three of them now, in various states of apprehension. “You guys do great work here, I’m a huge fan. How’d you do that- with the- the aggressive Hive, or whatever?”

Aspen had thought that would be a nice icebreaker, but the scientist she’s direction her charm at just seems more nervous when she brings that up. “It was actually, um, some of Dr. Crane’s research, before he-”

“Ooh. Say no more.” That had been a scandal and a half. Well, scandal was the wrong word for it. Rather, it was a tragedy and a shame. Dr. Jonathan Crane had been working for Hood Enterprises as a researching psychologist when it came out that he had been performing unethical experiments on animals and on his own colleagues after hours. Very MKUltra. He had been fired and was now awaiting trial. This had all happened about a month or two before Aspen had gotten her job - she suspects it had a small part by scaring away some competition.

The man, dressed in a lab coat like every other schmuck in here, scratches the back of his neck and nods awkwardly. “Yeah, it was- not great for the project, I’ll say that much. But, uh, it means results, so we’ll keep getting funding. So. I’m Dr. Kaziman, by the way. Call me Nari.” He extends his hand to shake.

Aspen smiles and shakes. “Nice to meet you! I’m still Aspen.”

That usually gets a laugh, and it does now.

It turns out these guys have a lot more going on that what they’ve shown Calum, but some of it’s not ready, or it’s mostly just experimental. Once she explains her scientific background, they only take a little pressing to show her what they’re personally proud of. One of the engineers shows her one of his self-folding origami models - he hopes it could be useful for space travel, or some sort of biomedical shit, but right now he’s just trying to figure out how to make a little folded piano.  The main programmer lets her look at the code for the Hive, which she adores but absolutely cannot understand. It’s not long until Mr. Hood re-emerges from the office, but by the time he does Aspen’s feeling just a little bit better.

He doesn’t say much of anything, just nods at her to follow as he gives a stiff wave to Dr. Fox. Aspen follows with a much more cheerful “goodbye!” Mr. Hood doesn’t say anything until they reach the elevator, and even on the way up he’s silent until Aspen decides to speak up.

“Thanks for letting me tag along. I hope I didn’t get in your way or anything.” She says, with her very best trustworthy grin.

He returns the smile, thankfully enough. “Not at all. You really enjoyed that.”

It is so not a question. “Well, yeah, cutting-edge technology... it’s so cool, what those guys are doing, sir. You can’t expect me not to get excited.”

Aspen thinks she hears a chuckle. “Autonomous swarm.” He repeats, running a hand through his hair.

“Autonomous swarm! And the voice synthesizer, and- like, it’s not my field and all, but I loved it.” She shrugs, pleased. “Oh, also your reservation at the Cactus Club with Mr. Lord is in half an hour.”

The elevator dings for their floor. “Thank you, Aspen.” Says Mr. Hood, stony-faced again, and he leaves as soon as the door is open. It’s abrupt enough to give her pause before she exits the elevator. It sounds like a dismissal.

Well, alright.

Maybe he just doesn't like Mr. Lord?

Aspen doesn't really get a lunch break that day. Mr. Hood gets her to make an appointment with the Mayor and also draft an email, and being on hold all that time decimates her chances at sneaking down and seeing her friends. She's back to miserable, and she sees Liam walk past her to the elevators with a smirk.

Things stagnate again.

It’s 4:30 when she calls Mr. Hood in his office to remind him of his fitting, and it says a lot about what she’s doing that that’s the most exciting thing that happens after her non-existent lunch. Mr. Hood says he’s a bit busy but he’ll do his best, and she says something vaguely respectful how it said it was very important in the book and not to let him be late. She’s still got to prove herself, after all.

At 4:45 she’s anxious to go and makes a few phone calls, just to look like she’s working a little while longer. Maybe she likes having a little control over this, too. She’s been following Mr. Hood all day, and it’s about time he had to stick to her schedule, and oh, it says at 5:26 she has to get home and immediately lie facedown on the couch for three hours. That’s non-negotiable.

She generously gives him until 5:01 to come out of his office. He doesn’t, so she knocks on the door and is already pushing it open when he says “come in”. “This appointment was underlined four times, sir.” She says, by way of explanation.

“You do good work, Ms. McMichael.” He says, all resigned, as he stands up to gather his coat. “I was wondering why Alfred was outside.”

Aspen is proud of that. “Yeah, well, I do what I can. Do you want me to carry anything for you?”

Calum seems like he has to suppress a laugh. “Eager to head home?”

Yes. “No, sir, just trying to do my job.” She says, smiling, because they both know it’s a lie.

Mr. Hood gathers some papers into a briefcase and tugs his suit jacket on. Aspen, unbidden, heads over to the coathanger and brings his coat over, helping him get it over his broad shoulders. “Thank you,” he says, quiet, and before she steps away he catches her shoulder and gives it a squeeze, just for a second. “You’ve done so well today.” He says, as he lets her go. “You should be proud.”

Aspen smiles. It’s nice to hear her terrifying boss say she did well. Of course, that doesn’t explain why the hair on the back of her neck is standing up, but she’ll deal with that later. “Thank you. Sir.” She adds, almost entirely on her own.

Calum Hood doesn’t look so scary when he’s smiling like that. “Thank you. And go home! Get some rest. Busy days ahead.”

Yes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.” She smiles brightly as he leaves his office. As soon as she hears the elevator ding she catches her breath, runs a hand through her hair.

Well.

Aspen doesn’t know if she likes that Mr. Hood didn’t go out himself when he noticed the car - he waited for her to get him, instead. He’s probably a little spoiled. Plus everything is a test, she’s pretty sure. Even- that look he gave her as he left, the one she’d call tender if she didn’t know better, that was probably a test too. It’s done now, though, and she waves goodbye to Liam and Janice as she heads out.

Aspen’s first day was… not uneventful. But fuck if it couldn’t have been a lot worse. She expected to royally fuck up, get screamed at, to be sent back to the lab in disgrace. To be completely honest, she’s not sure if she’s pleased about that; sure, seeing Hood Tech was nice and all, but she sort of missed wearing a lab coat. Plus, Mr. Hood… he’s impossible for her to get a read on.

Unfortunately for her, she’s tenacious in nature, which means she wants to see how this all plays out. The pay is good, too, especially for the amount of work she does.

Whatever.

She’s going to eat her body weight in pizza when she gets home.

[spunky-89]

This is a special birthday one-shot for @bbparker! Happy Birthday!!! Sorry it’s late in the day. I wanted to make sure it was perfect for you :)

I chose the prompts ( They all blended so seamlessly that I had to use them all :D ) “Did you just miss  skip out on your own birthday party?” “Wasn’t much of one to be honest” and “Just blow out the candles already you dork.” and  “What did you wish for?” “You.” 

Word Count: 2k+

You had been feeling pretty bummed out. Another year, another birthday, another big show for your twin, the favored child. It wasn’t even halfway through the party when you decided to bail. It wasn’t worth your time and there were plenty of places you’d rather be than at a party with people who didn’t even notice you existed. You took to the streets, no real destination in mind, just enjoying the bustling life of New York City. You were still in your party outfit which was not exactly practical to walk around the city in, but here you were. Your house was too far from the lavish hotel the party was at so going home to veg out with snacks and Netflix was out of the question. For now at least.

As you were meandering, you notice a familiar red-suited figure jumping from building to building. You smile as you watch him. You hadn’t told him it was your birthday, nor that your family cared more about your twin than they did you. With Peter, you pretended that none of that other life existed. You were just (Y/N/N), a teenager with a superhero boyfriend, not (Y/N) (L/N), the unwanted child.

You were sure he hadn’t seen you as he flipped by, which you were thankful for. You currently were uninterested in having to explain why you were dressed up and walking around the city.

You made it maybe a block before your phone started vibrating in your hand. You looked down and smiled at the contact picture. It was you and Peter while you were curled up in his room. He was holding you from behind with his chin on your shoulder, making a funny face at the camera.

“Hello?”

“Why are you walking around Manhattan all dressed up?” He asked as soon as you picked up.

“Hi (Y/N/N) how are you.” You mocked his voice, “Oh I’m good honey, what’s up?”

“Haha very funny. Seriously though,” He pushed, “I didn’t miss a date or anything right?”

“What? No, no. I’m just… I don’t even know. It’s all good though. Don’t sweat it.” You try to placate, feeling bad for making him worry.

“I will sweat it if I want to.” He said. You could hear rustling on his end, which made you wonder what he was doing while talking to you.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about saving the citizens of New York?”

“I am worried about the citizens of New York, you just happen to be the citizen of New York I am currently concerned about.” He said.

“Don’t use my words against me.” you pouted.

Next thing you know Peter popped up next to you, dressed in his civilian clothes with his backpack on his back.

You jump in surprise as he shows up. He laughs and hangs up the call and takes your hand in his.

“So are you gonna tell me why you're dressed up and walking through the city?”

“I just ditched a birthday party,” you said blankly.

“Oh, who’s birthday?” He asked, trying to make light conversation.

You wanted to lie to avoid having to explain, but it was Peter. He was so sweet and kind and he had no idea how much that little comment stung. Of course you know it shouldn’t. You didn’t tell him about your birthday because it has always been a sore subject. But hearing him ask that sent the pang through you because it was normal for the people closest to you to forget it was your birthday.

“Mine.” You said shortly. When he stopped walking in shock you continued, letting go of his hand and hurrying his pace. Some part of you hoped you could get far enough away to avoid questions. You knew it was mood-point but… You heard his steps running to catch up with you and pull you to a stop.

“What do you mean it was yours?” He seemed really put off.

You just shrugged and scuffed your shoes on the concrete a bit as you stared at the ground, avoiding his kicked puppy look.

“Did you just skip out on your own birthday party?”

“Wasn’t much of one to be honest” you mumbled.

“What do you mean it wasn’t- you know what. I don’t care. Come on.” He said taking your hand in his again and walking with purpose towards… somewhere.

Eventually, you realized he was leading you to Stark Avengers Tower. You hesitate and try to pull him to a stop. He does and looks back at you with a raised eyebrow and cocked head. He really was like a puppy, you thought.

“Uh, I don’t- I mean am I- its just-”

“Don’t worry about it, they’re all gone on a mission right now anyway. Just trust me.” He smiles. You hesitate but nod. You feel like you’re committing a crime as Peter leads you into the Tower and past the front desk with a smile and a wave to the lady sitting behind it. You soon get to the elevator and he presses a hand to the scanner and it opens for you.

“Good afternoon Mr. Parker, Ms. (Y/L/N).” An automated female voice says. You look shocked at your boyfriend.

“How does it know who I am?” Your voice squeaks out.

He laughs and smiles at your complete awe and weirdness about all things Avengers.

“I asked Mr. Stark to make sure you were in the system in case of emergencies. I wanted to make sure you get somewhere secure if someone ever found out your connection to me or if another attack on the city occurred.” He said.

“You did that for me?”

“Of course,” He smiled and kissed your forehead.

Soon the elevator, which you hadn’t even realized was moving, came to a stop and the doors opened. In front of you was a massive wall of windows and a living room big enough to fit a small mansion in it.

“Holy…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy right.” He said as he walked into the room and took a right turn. You were too awestruck to notice he was no longer next to you. You walked around the room in a daze, taking in the details of the space.

“Babe! Come here real quick!” Peter hollered from somewhere behind you. You turned to see him poking his head out of a hallway. You headed in his direction and followed him into a kitchen. It was massive and looked like a crazy hybrid of an industrial kitchen but also extremely elegant. Which was not all that surprising when you remembered you were in Tony Stark’s tower.

Peter was pulling things out of cabinets and the fridge while looking at a big tablet thing of some kind.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Well if your birthday party sucked so much you ditched it, I’m gonna make up for it and we’re gonna make a cake with whatever we find in this kitchen and then we’ll do whatever you want to after. I don’t have a gift cause I didn’t know it was your birthday but I’ll make it up to you I promise.” He said smiling at you.

“You don’t have to do this Pete, I’m fine really.” You said.

“It’s not fine. It’s your birthday and you shouldn’t even have to make your own cake but I also don’t trust myself to not to burn everything so I need supervision.”

You laughed and joined him in the making of a cake.

It was hours later, the two of you and every inch of the kitchen were covered in all kinds of ingredients and icing. But you were laughing and having fun for the first time in years on your birthday. You had a cake that was iced and if you squinted it kinda looked like it said ‘Happy Birthday (Y/N)’ but the letters were questionable at best. Your nice party outfit had been completely ruined with sticky batter and icing but it was very worth it in your eyes. The two of you were laughing, music playing in the background, as you were trying to clean up. Well you were, Peter was trying to distract you. He just kept hugging you from behind and trying to get you to dance and then kissing you if his other tactics weren’t working.

“Peter!” You laughed as he grabbed you from behind again and pulled you away from the counter you were cleaning.

“It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be cleaning.” He whined.

“Well someone needs to clean it before the people who actually live here come back and see this place in disarray.” You stated.

“Nope. I’ve tried playing nice but you’ve forced my hand.” He said as he picked you up effortlessly and threw you over his shoulder.

“Peter Benjamin Parker put me down!” You yelled and laughed at the same time.

“Nope,”

He ran out of the kitchen with you and into the living room.

“Where are you going?” you were still laughing. That was one of your favorite things about Peter, he could make you laugh no matter what.

After an elevator trip up a few floors and him running down multiple halls, you ended up in a bedroom. He plopped you on the bed and then flopped on top of you. The two of you laughed a little more before settling down. You laid there for a while, running your fingers through his hair as he laid on top of you.

“So I didn’t want to ask earlier but uh…”

“Why did I ditch my own party?” you asked for him.

“Yeah,”

“Well, I never really told you about my family and all cause honestly I like to pretend they don’t exist. But I have a twin, and they’ve always been more loved by our parents. So birthdays kinda suck for me as they get all the attention and I’m lucky if I get a mention and a fifth of the gifts. So this year, I didn’t feel like sticking around the (sibling’s name)’s show.” You explained, not looking at him but just continuing to run your fingers through his hair.

“Well, I promise you will never have a shitty birthday again as long as I’m around.” He said, leaning up, bracing his arms on either side of your head.

You smiled up at him and as you were going to kiss him, you licked a bit of icing that was left on his cheek.

“We should clean up if we’re going to lounge around.” You said with a giggle.

“You shower in here and I’ll grab some clothes to change into then I’ll use one of the guest showers.” He said pecking your nose.

Once you were both showered and you were dressed in one of Peter’s old t-shirts and a pair of boxers the two of you were curled up on the couch in the main room watching Netflix. You ordered take-out for dinner and spent the night with your favorite person. It was the best birthday you’d ever had. At one point Peter got up and got your cake and after a suspicious amount of time came out with candles burning and singing ‘Happy Birthday’ really off key. You giggled as he set the cake on the coffee table and finished the song with an excessively drawn-out note.

“Our cake looks like a five-year-old made it,” you said after he finished.

“Just blow out the candles already you dork,” Peter said with a shake of his head.

You smiled and did as told blowing out the candles.

“What did you wish for?” He asked

“You.” You smiled.

“You already have me.”

“And I hope I never lose you”

He picked you up off the floor and gave you a kiss that was sweeter than any cake.

“I love you so much.” He said staring at you in awe.

“I love you too.”

“Happy birthday (Y/N).”

“It’s the happiest birthday I’ve ever had, so thank you.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he said, giving you one more lasting kiss before the two of you gorged on the cake you slaved over and fell asleep cuddled up on the couch with the television playing through the night.

[suspendrs]

phan 20 :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

it’s mid afternoon when dan emerges from his bedroom for the first time, cracking the door open first to listen and make sure the coast is clear before he steps out. phil is usually pretty good at ignoring him when he wants to be ignored, but sometimes he mistakes dan’s ritual trip to the fridge as invitation to speak to him, and dan’s not sure he could forgive it today.

nothing’s wrong, not really, except that dan’s brain seems to be allergic to serotonin and he hasn’t smiled in days and all he wants to do is sleep and play old pokémon games he’s played a thousand times and, most of all, ignore the one person he knows could make him feel better. phil’s used to it, they both are, but dan happens to know how sad it makes phil when dan is sad, and instead of having to see it with his own stupid eyes, he’d really rather just hide from it and wait for the episode to end so that he can make phil happy again.

he creeps down the hallway like a ghost, slippers shuffling quietly on the carpet, and pauses again to listen. he can hear phil’s voice somewhere in the distance; he’s probably filming, or maybe doing a live show. dan doesn’t even know what time it is, let alone what day of the week, so really, it could be either.

as he approaches the end of the hallway, he can hear phil’s voice more clearly. it’s his normal speaking voice, deeper and more casual than the one he uses when he’s filming. he’s on the phone, then, which means he’s not as busy as dan hoped he would be, but he still pauses just outside the lounge to listen anyway.

“i just don’t know what to do,” phil says, his voice quiet, sad. dan’s heart sinks. “he hasn’t talked to me in days.”

dan closes his eyes, pressing himself up against the wall and holding his breath. no matter how hard he listens, there’s no way he can hear the person on the other end of the line, but he does hear phil’s frustrated exhale.

“no, i don’t think he’s upset with me,” phil says. “he’s just… sad. it happens sometimes. he likes to be left alone when he’s like this but i hate it, i just want to make him feel better, but i don’t know what to do.”

dan’s heart sinks even lower with the confirmation that phil is definitely talking about him. he doesn’t want to listen anymore, because it’s only making him feel worse, but he’s got to go through the lounge to get to the kitchen and he can’t possibly go now.

“no,” phil says, voice shaking. dan’s hands are shaking. “because he’s depressed, mum, it’s just how it is sometimes.”

a wave of guilt washes over dan’s entire body and turns him around without his brains permission, instinct taking over and telling him to retreat back to his bedroom before this gets any worse, before he hears anything else that phil would rather die than say in front of him. his depression is a sensitive topic, and they hardly ever discuss it, but dan feels guilty every single day that phil has to deal with dan’s broken brain just as much as dan does himself.

he gets his awkward limbs all tangled up as he turns to go, his frantic energy sending him stumbling across the floor. his slipper gets folded under itself and he trips, knocking his elbow against the wall and making quite a bit of noise while he’s at it.

“oh,” says phil’s voice from the next room, and then some shuffling like he’s getting up. “i think he’s up. i’ve gotta go, mum, i’ll text you later, yeah?”

dan could run. he could just sprint back to his bedroom and lock the door and convince phil later that he heard a ghost, but he knows that phil only pretends to believe those stories and it would probably only make him feel worse than he already does. instead, dan turns in a few awkward circles and then freezes, staring down at his feet, until phil peeks around the corner into the hallway.

“hi,” phil says, careful, hesitant. “what on earth are you doing?”

“came to get a snack,” dan says, staring at the rim of phil’s glasses instead of his eyes. “tripped over my fucking slipper.”

“bad slipper,” phil says scoldingly, pointing a finger at dan’s foot. dan barely cracks a smile. “how are you feeling?” phil asks, trying desperately to meet dan’s eye.

“uh,” dan says, determinedly avoiding his gaze. “a bit better.”

“yeah?” phil says. oh no, dan thinks, he’s given him false hope. he really needs to stop lying, especially to phil. “do you want me to make you something to eat? we could watch an anime, or catch up on riverdale, or something?” he asks excitedly.

“no, that’s okay,” dan says, ashamed when phil’s shoulders sag. “actually, i’m not very hungry. i’m gonna go back to bed,” he mumbles, turning away and shuffling back the way he came.

“but you haven’t eaten since yesterday,” phil says, following him down the hall. dan tenses, and phil eases off, but doesn’t give up. “want me to just make you some pasta?” he asks. “i’ll bring it to you. or maybe just a cereal? i could run out and get you something, a coffee, a pizza, whatever you want,” he says desperately.

“really, it’s okay,” dan says. “i’ll be up for dinner in a few hours, okay?”

“okay,” phil whispers, dejected. dan wants to cry, thinks he’ll lock himself in his room and do just that, but phil stops him once more before he can. “hey, dan?”

“yeah?” dan says, turning back to look up at him from his darkened doorway.

“i love you,” phil says, when dan finally meets his eyes. “i love you, like, loads, okay?”

dan pauses, dropping his eyes to smile at phil’s feet. “i love you too,” he says, meeting phil’s eyes one more time before he disappears into the dark.

he doesn’t end up getting up for dinner later that night, but phil brings him a plate of pasta anyway, leaves it on his desk and disappears without a word.

it hurts, all of it does, and it’s dark and cold and lonely inside of dan’s head but, at the very least, he knows phil is waiting for him just on the other side of the tunnel with a warm hug and a million smiles, and that’s the thing that dan tends to cling to to remind himself that it’s all worth it, phil is worth it, and he’s going to be alright.

send me a number and a ship!

[taejinpurple-blog]

ARTISTIC BEAUTY OF LOVE- CHAPTER 4

Fluffy Romantic Story about two guys who became friends and blossomed into something more.

*Mature Scenes later on.*

Trigger Warning: Speaks about sexual abuse in later chapters.

I did my best with editing. Sorry in advance if there are any mistakes. But I really tried to make sure there were not many. Please enjoy

Previous Chapter: https://hopeless-taejinstan.tumblr.com/post/172349423050/artistic-beauty-of-love-chapter-3

Two months had passed since school started and Jin started his job as guardian of a hopeless college freshman named Taehyung. He stared at the test paper that had tons of red marks on it. He looked at the person across from him.

“What’s your grade in art?”

“I got a perfect grade A+.” Tae smiled proudly and Jin sighed.

“Okay, what’s your average in everything else?”

“Um …Writing D, Math D-, History D+ and freshman seminar B+.” He said proudly and Jin gently bopped him on the head with a rolled-up paper magazine. “Ow!”

“How do you expect to pass the semester with mainly Ds this early in the semester?”

“I don’t know …” he shrugged.

“God.” Jin slapped his forehead. “When’s your next test?”

“Today.”

Jin’s eyes widened. “Today? You have a test today?”

Tae nodded as Jin remembered yesterday. Tae came home, ate a snack, listened to music with Namjoon and Yoongi, danced around with Hoseok, practice soccer with Ken and Sandeul, took a nap, ate dinner and drew until whatever time he went to bed.

“You didn’t study at all yesterday!”

“I had the intention to but I got a bit …side tracked.”

“What subject?”

“Math.”

“Come on, we’re going to the library.”

“Huh? But I have art right now.”

“You can afford to miss a class, let’s go.” He grabbed Tae’s wrist before he could say anything else.

 ~~~~*~~~~

 They sat at a table in the back of the library. Tae handed Jin his textbook and notebook. Jin opened the notebook and felt exhausted suddenly.

“Where are your notes?”

“I get so bored in class and before I know it, I’m drawing.”

“Did your mother pull her hair out a lot while you were in high school?”

Tae chuckled. “Actually, she said I was a very pleasant child.”

“I’ll have to talk to her about that …”

Miyeon walked into the library and spotted Jin and Tae. She sat down at a table to study for her biology test. If only she could get a good look at that person’s face. If that person was Jin’s girlfriend she would feel so down. Her friends told her to just move on but there was something about him that made her heart flutter.

Jin ran his hand over his face, this was the third time explaining the equation to Tae and he still didn’t get it. He started to wonder how he even got through high school. He looked away for a moment and saw Miyeon sitting at a table alone. A lump formed in his throat, she was so ladylike.

Tae looked up from the paper and saw Jin spaced out. He followed Jin’s eyes and saw the beautiful young woman.

“Is she an ex-girlfriend?” he asked snapping Jin from his thoughts. He cleared his throat trying to hide his embarrassment that he got caught staring. He readjusted his seat.

“No.”

“Do you like her then?”

“Something like that …I never had a conversation with her.”

“Why not? She doesn’t like you or something?”

“I’m just really nervous around her. I really never spoke with girls before so …” he shrugged. “I don’t know how to talk to them.”

Tae nodded his head. “What’s her name?”

“Miyeon.”

“Her last name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know her age?”

“She’s the same age as me.”

Tae nodded and stood up.

“Taehyung?”

His face paled when Tae walked over to her table.

Miyeon looked up and saw Tae giving her a big smile. He ran his hand through his hair and her eyes widened when she realized he was a guy.

“Hi Miyeon Noona, my name is Taehyung and I’m a freshman here.”

“Oh hello.” She gave him a small bow. “Welcome.”

“Thank you, I was there with Jin Hyung and he was staring at you. I think he has a crush on you.” Miyeon’s eyes widened. Taehyung couldn’t finish his sentence because Jin ran over to him and covered his mouth.

“Yah babo, don’t go around meddling in other people’s love lives!” He snapped and Taehyung removed his hand from his mouth.

“But I thought you liked her. You just said you were too nervous to talk to her that why you never did.”

Miyeon looked at them as everything began making sense to her about Jin’s previous actions. She giggled making Jin and Taehyung look at her.

“That’s so cute,” Miyeon said. Jin’s ears and cheeks turned a deep red.

“Miyeon Noona, are you busy right now?”

“No, I was just going over my notes.”

“Hyung, you should sit with her and get to know her now that the hard part is over.”

“Taehyung, you can’t just go and make suggestions like that.”

“I would like that,” Miyeon said and Jin looked at her in shock. Taehyung grabbed Jin’s book and set them on the table.

“But what about-”

“Don’t worry, I think I can pass the test with flying colors.”

Jin knew he was going to fail. “On my days off from work, I’m gonna start tutoring you. You need to get your grades up before you find yourself on academic probation.”

“Yes, yes, got it.” Taehyung waved and gathered his stuff. He looked back at Jin and smiled when he saw them having a nice conversation before leaving.

“Is that your little brother?”

“No, his grandfather owns the house I’m staying at and before I knew it I became like his guardian kinda …it’s exhausting.” He sighed deeply. Miyeon giggled.

“It’s cute that you help him out though, he seems so innocent and a little naïve.”

“A little naïve? I’m honestly afraid that someone may offer him candy and he’ll get in the car with them.” The thought made him shiver.

“So Jin, tell me about yourself.” Miyeon placed her hand over his. He cleared his dry throat trying to calm down. It was either now or never.

 ~~~~*~~~~

 That night Tae sat in his room listening to music and reading a manga. He wondered how Jin and Miyeon did after he left. He hoped they hit it off well. There was a knock on his door, he lowered the music.

“Come in.” He watched Jin walk in with his hands behind his back and tilted his head. “What’s up Hyung?”

Jin walked over to him and handed him a cell phone.

“You don’t have a cell, do you? I thought you could use one in case of an emergency, I put you on my plan so you unlimited everything, enjoy.”

“Really? Are you sure I can have it?”

“Yeah, it’s the least I can do. You really helped me out with Miyeon.” He scratched the back of his neck as Tae’s eyes widened.

“Are you telling that …”

“We’re a couple as of today.”

Tae jumped up and hugged him. “I’m so happy for you Hyung!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jin pushed him away feeling his cheeks heat up. “Anyway, thank you for helping me. What were you doing before I came in?”

“St-St-Studying …”

Jin’s eyes went to the manga book on the bed and saw all his school books piled up on his computer desk all over the place.

Jin glared at the younger male who laughed sheepishly.

“You said you don’t like sleeping much at night anyway, so let’s study.” Jin smiled as Taehyung grunted.

A few hours passed, and Tae rubbed his eyes. All he saw were numbers, he hated math. They both were lying on the floor since it was comfortable. He stared at the problem and rubbed his head in frustration. He felt like Jin made it harder than the professor. He looked towards him to say something but saw the older male was sleeping. He was lying on his stomach with his face nested on top of his arms.

Tae smiled, he truly was a beautiful person inside and out. Tae sat up and hugged his knees, he couldn’t believe how comfortable he felt around Jin. Honestly, he thought he would never get close to anyone ever again. He just hoped his relationship with Miyeon flourished, he wanted Jin to always be happy.

Tae laid on his stomach smiling at Jin.

“Hyung, when you and Miyeon get married can I be your best man?”

Jin buried his head deeper into his arms.

“Taehyung babo.” He said in his sleep and Taehyung covered his mouth, so he didn’t laugh out. He grabbed his sketchpad and began drawing him.

Next Chapter: https://hopeless-taejinstan.tumblr.com/post/172521580885/artistic-beauty-of-love-chapter-5

[katedoesfics]

StrangerVille | Chapter 6

Twenty-four hours ago, it was just another ordinary night, and Jayson was on an ordinary date, and to any outsider, he lived an ordinary life, just as he always had, and up until now, he thought he would live and die an ordinary man and nothing more.

Tonight, however, he was crouching behind some thorny bushes with a guy he never in a million years thought he’d be friends with - a guy who couldn’t look more conspicuous in a black ski mask - and planning their way to break into a heavily guarded secret lab.

“What have I gotten myself into?” Jayson muttered under his breath, refusing to look at Erwin as he fidgeted with his black gloves.

“Hey,” Erwin snapped. “You wanted my help, right? I told you to wear gloves! We can’t be leaving our fingerprints everywhere. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right and not get our asses thrown in jail!”

“Ladies do love a bad boy.”

Erwin rolled his eyes. “Is that what Siobhan said on your hot date?” He made a crude gesture with his hips and Jayson slapped the back of his head. Erwin rubbed the back of his head, then pointed through the bushes to a hole in the fence.

“That’s our in. I had a friend cut the fence between shifts. But they’ll be coming up this way soon, so we need to hurry. Once they realize it’s been cut, security will swarm this place and we’ll be done for.”

They hurried through the hole in the fence, then kept to the wall of the building, avoiding the sweeping lights that scanned the premises for potential intruders. They kept in the shadows, away from the cameras as they hurried around and into the busted door in the back of the building.

Except for a few emergency lights, the lab was dim. The air was warm and stuffy, dust already settling on the untouched counters and furniture. Jayson guessed they were in a kitchen of sorts. Chairs and tables were tipped over and scattered throughout the room, and they picked their way carefully across and through the door on the other side.

They made their way down the hall. Most of the doors to other rooms were blown in, and as they passed, they found bathrooms and closets. At the end, the hall opened up into a much larger room where several chambers stood in neat rows, their glasses blown in and shattered. More tables, desks, and chairs were tipped over or broken completely, and books and pages were scattered all across the room.

“This place is creepy,” Erwin said. “Way creepier than I thought.”

Jayson looked around them, then made his way to a desk. Pages were scattered across the wood top and her perused through them. Among the pages were various journal entries, data and formulas, even photographs. He picked up the overturned chair to look at the pages more closely.

He found a list of all the names of people with keycards and specific levels of clearance. He pocketed the page along with some images that seemed noteworthy. Some contained specific lab members working on various experiments. A couple pictures seemed to be of a strange plant in chambers somewhere deep in the lab. Jayson recognized the same plant in a picture that seemed to be taken outside of the lab.

He studied the image for a moment more; something about it seemed familiar. Erwin peered over his shoulder, then jammed a finger into the picture.

“I’ve seen a couple of those plants,” he said. “There’s a bunch near the trailer park.”

Jayson folded the picture and pocketed with the other bits of evidence he gathered. Erwin was right; he had seen the plants near the trailer park, too. Could that explain the way the people there were acting?

With nothing more at the desk to look at, Jayson and Erwin continued to wander the first floor of the lab. They came across a large, steel door that was securely locked. A panel to the right indicated that it could only be opened by a keycard.

“We’re gonna need that keycard,” Erwin said. “Do you know anyone with the right access?”

“I know a couple of the military guys,” Jayson said. “Casual drinking buddies.”

“Do you think they’d give you a card?”

“Unlikely,” Jayson said. “But, I can at least talk to them. See what kind of info I can get from them.” He shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Erwin nodded. “Maybe if we find something real good, you can use it as blackmail.”

Jayson hesitated. “Sure. I’ll ruin someone’s life after I’ve exhausted all my other options.”

“What do you care if you’re ruining their life when innocent people are being fucked over?”

“We don’t know for sure what’s going on yet,” Jayson pointed out. “No sense jumping to conclusions until we have all the facts.”

Erwin sighed. “Fine. Not like there’s anything I can do about it, anyway.” He turned and walked away from the sealed door. “See? You’re already proving to be more useful than I am.”

They continued to make their way through the lab, checking every room they could get into. Most of the rooms had various equipment that lay broken or abandoned. Jayson snapped a few pictures with his phone, hoping at the very least one of the scientists could identify them and explain what they were used for.

It started to seem like they wouldn’t find much else in the lab - not without going deeper, and they couldn’t do that without the keycard - but Erwin’s wary voice pulled Jayson to him, and he peered over Erwin’s shoulder at some photographs in his hands.

Ted Roswell, StrangerVille Mayor, standing outside of the newly constructed lab some years ago. He was a younger man in the photo, and he was grinning, shaking the hand of someone who could have only been the lead scientist at the lab and the head of the military group tasked with guarding the lab from curious onlookers.

Erwin flipped through the images he had picked up. There were a few more images of Ted in the lab, in places that seemed to be beyond the sealed door. Jayson studied the images carefully, looking for any clues in the background of the photos, but found nothing more than the smiling mayor.

Behind these images, they found various newspaper clippings. Jayson examined them, reading them out loud.

“The military arrives in StrangerVille! Residents rejoice as a new base opens near the crater. The City Council welcomes the opportunity of new jobs for the struggling town.”

“New Era for Strangerville! A high-tech super-science facility is being constructed in the crater. While residents are eager to modernize the town, the amount of secrecy surrounding the project has some people on edge.”

“A local resident claims that after he found his lost cat outside the crater, it became unreasonably afraid of his houseplants and wouldn’t stop hidding until they were all removed from his property.”

“After the incident, there have been reports of bizarre plants growing around town. No one has been able to figure out why they are spreading so quickly. Efforts to eradicate them have been fruitless; for each sprout removed, three grow back it its place.”

Behind the clippings were more photographs, and Erwin flipped to these, revealing a lab in ruins. It looked just about as it did now, with a few noteworthy exceptions. For one, and the most obvious, was the sealed door. In the images, it was clearly destroyed. Someone had come in - perhaps shortly after the lab was condemned - and fixed the door, making it functional again.

“Just to keep out annoying conspiracy theorists,” Jayson said.

“Or keep something else locked in,” Erwin said.

Jayson bit his lip. Erwin flipped to the final picture. It was dark and blurry, but they could easily make out the same plants they saw in other images. Only this one appeared to be much bigger. Huge. And… alive?

Jayson took the photo out of Erwin’s hand and peered at it, then glanced at the sealed door. Perhaps they were keeping something locked in after all.

Erwin looked up at Jayson nervously. “What the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know,” Jayson said. “But we need to get that keycard and find out.”

“Are you crazy?” Erwin hissed. “Whatever that thing is, its down there, and it’ll fucking make a midnight snack out of us!”

“Roswell’s involved in this,” Jayson said. “He must have created this… thing. This experiment. And it went terribly wrong. And either he won’t destroy it… or he can’t. So instead they’re covering it up. But how long do you think they can keep this up? How long until this thing destroys the entire town?”

“Even more reason to keep that damn door closed,” Erwin muttered.

“We need to confirm that there is something down there that they’re trying to hide,” Jayson said. “Once we have proof of that, we can expose Roswell and put a stop to all of this.”

“Assuming it doesn’t eat us.”

“Are you really backing out now?”

“This is suicide,” Erwin hissed. “We’d literally be walking into our own graves.”

“That’s why you got a bodyguard, right?”

Erwin rolled his eyes, but a shout from outside the lab brought them out of their argument. They moved quickly through the lab, checking the perimeter before stepping through the broken door and darting between the security lights and crawling through the hole in the fence once more. They crept low in the bushes until they were down the hill and out of sight, then darted through the dark streets until they reached the center of town.

At the bar, a few of the military personnel must have been alerted to a disturbance at the lab, and they hurried out quickly. Erwin instinctively stepped behind Jayson in an attempt to keep out of sight, and Jayson watched as Kenny brought up the rear in a disinterested manner. He caught Jayson’s gaze for a moment, his eyes narrowing on him, before he turned his back on them and slid into one of the vehicles as it took off down the street toward the lab.

With the soldiers gone, Erwin stepped out from behind Jayson, and Jayson looked down on him with a disapproving shake of his head.

“Hey,” Erwin barked. “That’s why I hired you as my bodyguard!”